Thursday, September 28, 2006


I have a MySpace account that I forgot about. I registered almost a year ago because all eight of my sisters have one and I guess I tried to make a vague stab of keeping in touch. But it sucks as a blog forum, so I let it go by the wayside.

The other day, I checked my email and it was from a friend of mine in NY that I have known since preschool. She wanted me to add her to my MySpace "List of Friends." I hadn't talked to her in over a year, so I was anxious to see how she was doing. After much trial and error, I pulled up my page and discovered that I had put up this picture as a representation of myself/my view of life:

I had also neglected to fill out any of my information, so to all the world I was unmarried, an alcoholic, and never wanted to have children. I also had 30 messages in my Inbox. Two were from concerned friends. Ten were solicitations of some sort. And the rest were from men who wanted help me drink my beer (from right where it was in the picture) and engage in various deviant acts of sexual congress immediately following.

I was more than a little amused, as were my concerned friends when they discovered that I was not a meth addict, and horrible tragedy had not actually befallen me.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

"You Like My Boooooody?"

Okay. I wrote my post for today, but that was before I found out the Howard K. Stern, Attorney at Law, is the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby.

There isn't much that surprises me in the world of celebrities. I mean someone tries to commit suicide, someone od's, someone crucifies oneself for the seventy-thousandth time (incidentally, how does one hammer in that last nail?)'s all been done to death and the corpses pummeled, stabbed, and burned for good measure.

But Anna Nicole Smith fascinates, repulses, and surprises me in ways I can't even begin to explain. I thought most people felt the same way. And I felt sure her pansy-assed, sycophantic, yet ethnically understated lawyer did too. In fact, I would have sworn he thought of her as one more Vapid Gentile Bovine for the Jew to suffer through once again for humiliating, degrading sustenance (read television exposure and ungodly sums of money).

So Howard, old boy. Schtuping the meshugeh shiksa? You kiss your mother with the same mouth?
When driving, it is customary for someone pulling out of a driveway to give the right-of-way to the vehicle on the road. This would not seem to be the case in The Orient.

I was driving along at a respectably sedate pace and just about to pass the county tax office, when I noticed a car getting ready to exit said tax office.

In the span of about half a second, I thought, "Surely they won't pull out in front of me," saw the driver was an older woman of Asiatic descent, slammed preemptively on my brakes just as she made her death-defying move in her ancient little Toyota Camry. Now I admit fully that in half a second, I stereotyped that woman and assumed she was going to do something boneheaded because she was 1.) female 2.) Asian and 3.) old. It probably saved her life.

Isn't it Ironic?

Monday, September 25, 2006

War or Crime?

Man. Drop a couple of pounds and just see what happens in the sack. I've seen my bedroom from about 6 new angles. That's all I'm going to say about that.

So the diet is going well. I haven't been quite as strict as I ought to have been, but except for a nibble here or there, I've stuck to it. And I feel much better.


I was watching Newt Gingrich on Bill O'Reilly tonight and he said something very interesting about what separated the political right from the political left in the prosecution of terrorism. The Right sees terrorism as a declaration of war, and the Left sees it as a crime. Let me know what you think. I promise I won't jump all over you. I'm genuinely curious.

This is really interesting to me because I've been unable to understand the Left's point of view on the issue of terrorism. I do know from my family having been in the Middle East, that if one crazy mullah decides that Muslims must fight against you; his followers (and please notice I do not say all Muslims) will fight you either to the death or until the mullah says to stop. That's the way religious fundamentalists of all stripes are. That's the way many Catholics would be if the Pope said, "KILL." But bear in mind that even the most odious, sanctimonious, distorted Christian has not, in this fight, hung burnt corpses from bridges, or beheaded innocent civilians while chanting "Praise JAYsus!" In fact, the most odious, sanctimonious, distorted Christians would probably be the Phelps family. And they're against the war. And homos.

But I digress. Obviously, from anyone who has read me for more than 5 minutes, you would know that I consider terrorism and the threat of terrorism an act of war, whether it's by pirates, religious fundamentalists, or little green men. The only thing that ought to keep us from aggressively defending ourselves would be assurances backed with indisputable evidence by the leaders of the attacking group that their acts of war are an aberration and they will prosecute the perpetrators themselves in order to protect their good name. Anything less will inevitably lead to war.

Muslim leaders attempt to muddy the waters by saying on one hand, most Muslims aren't terrorists and abhor terrorism and we are racists and Muslim-haters for even thinking such a thing. On the other hand, they insist that investigation of and protective action against suspected terrorists ends up recruiting more terrorists. If they insisted upon the former statement, and left off the latter, I would be marginally more sympathetic. But I'm not buying the idea that action against suspected terrorists leads to Muslims joining the terrorist cause. And you really can't have it both ways.

I read a comment somewhere regarding terrorist recruitment being caused by investigating suspected terrorists and it was so appropriate I have to repeat it. I can't remember who wrote it though, so I won't be able to give them credit. But they stated that if you were falsely accused of a terrible crime, would that make you more likely to commit that crime? Say you were accused of pedophilia and taken to jail and interrogated for hours on end and even held for weeks in custody. Upon your release, would that then make you more likely to rape children? Would it make your family and friends more likely to rape children? So I'm not convinced that fanatical Muslim/Arab nationalist fence-sitters will join hands in peace if we pretend that no Muslim has any ill-intention towards Western society and we turn a blind eye to their murderous schemes. It would be playing right into their hands, and even now they are capitalizing on our reluctance to be referred to as racists, even though it would be the most ludicrous of hypocrisies.

Call me crazy, but I very much doubt that fanatical Muslim terrorist lunatics would like anything better than to plan their jihad for the Caliphate in perfect peace, so they call us racists for even thinking of such a thing while they make bombs to slaughter the infidels.

We're so intolerant of being called intolerant that we are going to tolerate the worst intolerance of all. Against ourselves. Wrap your mind around that while you sleep at night.


In other news, a True Martyr was laid to rest. They buried Sister Leonella Sgorbati who died after being shot in the back (and stomach and chest just to make sure) by the brave Defenders of Allah. She was walking home from her work at a nursing school in Mogadishu, Somalia when she was attacked. She died forgiving her murderers.

(H/T: Michelle Malkin, Catholic Online)

Wednesday, September 20, 2006


By ALa of Blonde Sagacity.

Were you born before the end of the first Gulf War?


Childhood Nickname?


Historical Person you have the biggest crush on?

Oscar Wilde

Favorite type of candy?

Twizzlers and dark chocolate

Favorite foreign country?


Fish or Chicken?


Do you have your own perfume line?

Hell no. I barely wear deodorant.

Have you ever written a children's book?

Yes. It's called Queen of the Pond. I need an illustrator.

Have you ever been in a movie based on a book?

What is this crap? Celebrity Jeopardy?

Ever posed nude for a photo?

Not to my recollection, but define nude and define pose.

Guiltiest Pleasure?

I'm actually going to have to go with blogging. Or The Waltons.

Your best non-guilty pleasure then?


What are you allergic to?

Soybeans, something in some cleaning agent but only in the summer, pollen, dust.

Worst pick-up line you've ever heard?

The one directed to me was, "Do you have a little Chinese in you?" "Want one?"

The second, not directed to me was, "How can I take advantage of you if I can't get you drunk?"

Were you bar-mitzvahed?

No. First Communionized

Have you ever cried during a TV interview?

Actually, I have been interviewed. But I've never cried.

If they made a movie of your life, who would play you?

It would really have to be Winona Ryder. She's just loony enough to pull it off.

Pet Peeve

People who use cliches and screw them up.
High waisted pants on fat people.
Low waisted pants on fat people.
Fat People
Referring to dogs and cats as one's children
Skinny Celebrities
Fat Celebrities

If you weren't doing what you do, what job would you like to have?

Researcher for travel agencies. Or a column writer.

Place you will never be found?

I never say never, but I hope very much that I would never be found in a sewage treatment plant.

Why did you participate in this tagging?

Because no one says no to the ALa

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Diet Update

It's going better than I expected. I don't have a scale, but all of my clothes fit better. Pretty soon I'll be out of range of Ted Levine's Buffalo Bill character in Silence of the Lambs.

I honestly didn't expect much. And I was starving to death the first three days. But after that, it was so much easier. Yesterday, I was looking for something to wear and I pulled out this pair of pants that had ended up in the back of my closet. I could still wear them pre-diet, but they were uncomfortable and I would have to take them off the second I got home from work. Yesterday, they fit beautifully and I wore them the whole day without feeling miserable.

I haven't started exercising specifically yet, but I ran around the park with the kids yesterday. It's good to have so much more energy. Now if I can just transfer that energy to the laundry pile stacked to the ceiling in my living room....


Jethro is so funny with the new Pilot.

Last Saturday, we decided to take a trip down to the Texas City dyke. We are so impulsive sometimes. We packed up Gwennie, Emma, and the camping gear to do a little night fishing. We bought some bait, set up the tent, unpacked the chairs and fishing gear, lit the kerosene lantern (actually we lit the lantern first) and started fishing. Didn't catch a thing. It was too windy. But it was good practice. Our tent is easy to set up, the girls enjoyed it thoroughly and gave us no trouble - they even went to sleep! We were going to stay all night, but someone had their bass turned up and the resultant pounding made sleep impossible.

So while the girls were napping in the tent and the fish were ignoring our bait, Jethro and I decided to get a little action in the new Pilot. It was ridiculously easy and totally hot. It made me seriously wonder what the teen pregnancy rate must be in Texas City. It was the most pleasant night, although we did end up leaving about 3:00 am.

The next day, we cleaned out the car. And man alive did it stink. From the bait. Losers. Anyway, Jethro was none too pleased to have his new car smelling like rotting whore, so he had the car detailed and came back with a little sachet of potpourri attatched to to the steering column. No he's straight. I swear.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Pope Speaks; Muslims Slaughter

Since the Pope resides in palatial splendor in the Vatican, it would be difficult for Somalis to carry out the fatwa issued to "hunt down and kill" him. So the brave Defenders of Allah settle for a 73 year old nun/humanitarian whom they ambushed and shot in the back (and stomach and chest just to be on the safe side). Surely their courage knows no limits.

I watched CNN try to spin the Muslim reaction to the Pope's speech. I guess it's true that if he'd just kept his mouth shut like a good little dhimmi, the Muslims hordes wouldn't be doing what they do best. But at some point, someone must ask the theological questions. We are dealing with a religion afterall, in spite of CAIR's (Council on American-Islamic Relations) demand that Islam and terrorism not be mentioned in the same sentence. I mean, I'd love to comply, but terrorists have this ugly little habit of visiting mosques, reading the Koran, and screaming "Allah Akbar" before they hack the heads off schoolgirls, murder babies in Beslan, and hijack planes and fly them into buildings full of unarmed civilians.

CAIR has it's own dirty little secrets as well.

The point of the Pope's speech was to ask whether a rational God would demand violence in His name. Being a raging academic, he delved into the history books for quotes and came up with quote from a 14th century Byzantine Emperor who was under attack from the Religion of Peace. It wasn't Pope Benedict's quote (not that it matters), but naturally the frothing hordes wish to slaughter anyone who dares to suggest that Islam might not be peaceful and tolerant. I mean it's only common sense.

If someone were to call me violent and evil and imply that my religion is spread by the sword, my immediate instinct would be to slit their throat and slaughter their children. And their animals. No question. People just need to respect the fact that I'm a murderous avenger of my religion and I should not have to peacefully tolerate anyone who calls my God evil and imply that he demands satisfaction through violence. I will behead them and prove them wrong.

All sarcasm aside, what really gets to me is the refusal to hold radical Muslims to the same standards as the rest of the world. I can just hear the internal dialogue of the news reporters: "Well, they live in squalor and they don't know any better. We should make allowances since we are so rich."

I agree with the fact that they are bestial primates but just because they still wipe their asses with their hands and turn to camels for love, doesn't mean they can't be held accountable for their actions. The last thing they need is to have their temper tantrums justified.

***CORRECTION*** The Catholic nun, Sister Leonella Sgorbati, slaughtered by the Peaceful Defenders of Allah was 65, not 73.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

No Sex Today

Well, I guess no one wants to discuss Jack Kerouac. Can't say as I blame.

How about transcendentalism? I wouldn't necessarily classify myself as a transcendentalist, but I can certainly see the appeal. It doesn't demand absolute devotion, with Emerson claiming that it wouldn't even be possible. I can certainly go along with that. As long as it doesn't veer off into socialism, it is a relaxing philosophy, if not a virile one.

But I don't suppose anyone (me included) can relax enough to put down their respective swords long enough to give it a whirl. Then again, current events don't exactly make it easy.

Why don't they teach this stuff in school? It's as much a part of American history as anything else. If I asked the average high school graduate if he or she was a transcendentalist, they would look at me as if I had been licking frogs.

I wonder if there really are any true transcendentalists today. All I can find are pontificating idiots who want to solve everyone else's problems. Or hippies who want to reap the benefits without having to put in the actual time to the actual thought processes necessary, but don't believe in the fundamentals anyway.

Spirituality will never die. For whatever reason, we are hardwired to believe in the Supernatural. Transcendentalism seems like a very good way of combatting our human instinct to beat crap out of each other over issues of doctrine. It's uniquely American in it's simplicity and efficiency. I think that's why I am so attracted to it on so many levels.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Diet is going well. I cheated a little bit on accident this morning. The girls had left one of their breakfast bars in the kitchen and I ate a bite of it before I remembered. It tasted fantastic.

But I made up for it with some athletic masturbation. Satisfied, Jack?

Change of subject.

Does anyone besides me think On The Road by Jack Kerouac was gay? And I don't mean in the homosexual way, although it is that too.

This supposedly defining novel of the Beat Generation would embarrass me a little if I were the author. It swings from innocently joyful to jaded and cynical. I suppose that was part of it's charm. At least it isn't Naked Lunch, which always struck me as being written for the sole purpose of instigating the obscenity trial. Perhaps I'm worn out with beatniks and hippies. They haven't had a new idea in 40 years yet they're still held to be this paragon of intellectual/academic non-conformity.

Kerouac, for all his faults, realized this before anyone else and removed himself. And he really does have the coolest name in all of literature.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Exercise in Futility?

So I decided to start the South Beach diet. After much research, I decided that it was the most challenging, and apparently there is nothing I like better than to set unrealistic expectations for myself. It bills itself as neither low fat nor low carb, when in reality it is both low fat and low carb. They can't pull one over on me. But nutritionally speaking, they're probably spot on.

I started yesterday, and I did ok. I didn't cheat too badly except for about 4:00pm when I became ravenously hungry and ate around 12 packets of dried seaweed. I don't want to hear about it. They were delicious. I don't think I strayed too far from the diet and they did say to eat until you were full, although I don't know if they really meant 12-packets-of-dried-seaweed full.

I had a huge breakfast this morning. I'm not usually a breakfast eater, but the diet insists that you eat breakfast, so I did. I had the generic brand of egg substitute with onions and green and red peppers, part skim mozzarella cheese, and salt and ground white pepper. And a glass of V-8.

I am so full that I think I'll hold off on lunch until around 3:00pm when I get the worst food cravings. I will eat a snack of dried seaweed until then, if I'm hungry.

I expect this diet to accomplish two things, the first being a healthy amount of thigh loss and the second being a rehab of sorts for our addiction to eating out.

Part of the problem is that the basis of mine and Jethro's relationship has been food. He used to take me out for dinner or lunch when I was too broke to afford it, and we fell in love over plates of spring rolls and bowls of Pho. Then we would get drunk and make out.

But where Jethro merely gained some pleasant little love handles which are invisible when clothed and don't look that bad when he's not, I have gained mounds of pasty white rolls of fat that are hidden only by vast expanses of fat lady clothes.

Jethro claims he wouldn't miss the food-part of our relationship if I lost weight and got hot. But I think he would more than he knows. However, I don't really enjoy being fat, so we'll just have to see what happens.

What would really suck is if I didn't lose weight and Jethro was stuck eating diet food and boning a fat wife.

I'll keep the blog updated with any progress/cheating. I don't have a scale, so I won't be able to weigh in, but I will let you know if my pants fall down in public. The late afternoon is always my downfall, so maybe I'll just blog through the cravings.

I must say it would be nice to be hot through my 30s.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Eddie Rowenhorst

In conjunction with the project 2,996, I would like to honor the memory of Edward V. Rowenhorst. He was known as Eddie to his friends and family.

Eddie was a young man of 32 when he was murdered at the Pentagon on September 11, 2001. He had two little daughters, Ashley and Kaitlyn, ages 7 and 3 when the tragedy took place. He also had a young wife, Traci, and a mother and father, Florence and Everett, who waited tirelessly outside the Pentagon for word of his fate. They did not receive confirmation of that fate until September 17.

Eddie was a civilian who worked for the Pentagon for 11 years. In the weeks following that horrible day, he was awarded the Defense of Freedom medal. It is a new medal that was created to honor the civilians who worked for the military and who were killed or injured in that capacity.

By all accounts Eddie was much loved and respected. You have only to see his page to see that. He had a strong sense of family and who wouldn't with two beautiful daughters. He was a wonderful dad who would take his oldest daughter to work with him sometimes. It's such a special thing for a little girl and her daddy that I am sure makes his loss that much harder.

But it is a wonderful thing for which to be remembered. At the age of 32, he'd had his job with the Army for 11 years - since he was 21. It is obvious that he took his work quite seriously and had a beautiful family to show for it.

It's an example for us. He lived his life for the simple joys and that is how he will be known.

May he rest in peace, and may God bless his friends and family and give them strength on this most tragic anniversary.

Remember September 11, 2001 Guestbook

Defense of Freedom Medal

9/11 Truth

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Paris Hilton Reflux

I guess I'm sufficiently recovered to resume posting. But if you want to hear how drunk and obnoxious everyone was, go to Bad Beth and Beyond and listen for yourself. Jack is the asshole who wants something put on him "real tight." I'm the last asshole to figure out what he's talking about.


New Topic

There is a website that I count among my guiltiest pleasures. is a compilation of wacky translations from the Asian languages into English. Some of my favorites:

I can't imagine what they're selling, but they have a melting snowman as their logo.

This is a shopping bag.

I actually envy them these signs. They would make our zoo trips so much more fun.

'Nuff Said.

Wait. Don't Stop. Oh Santa!

This has to be my favorite. If you can't read it, it says:

Showing the vaginal area

Is it just me, or do you get the feeling that the Brits are fucking with them?

The first time I saw this stationary, I about died. Because seriously. Who doesn't think of Cowgirls and Napalm at the same time?

So now that you have the general idea (if you hadn't before), you will be able to appreciate this gal's ridicule of Paris Hilton. Check out her other work if you have time. She's deadly with a paintbrush and woe to the celebrity who displays his fat head.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Saturday Night Special

I woke up Sunday morning with a smashing headache. The room swirled into focus and I thought, "Did I really let Jack's Ladyfriend pull a soggy cocktail napkin out of my bra with her teeth?"

I rolled over and threw up a bit, then started pondering the previous evening, each memory crashing into the other until Jack called and it was embarrassingly confirmed.

The evening started pleasantly. We met Tinyhands (who has a secret and everyone should dogpile him until he tells it) and Beth (probably the sweetest Jersey Girl you'll ever meet) at a restaurant called Lupe Tortillas which seems to be the standard meeting place for bloggers.

While we were waiting for Jack and his Ladyfriend to show up, Beth and I (or at least I) took the liberty of a margarita or two. Possibly three. I don't know.

I think Jack must really enjoy his air of mystery because I looked up suddenly, and there was a figure in a black hood with a zipper mouth standing before us holding a sheaf of confidentiality agreements. He unzipped the mouth a little to inform us that we all had to sign them and take a blood oath that we would display no photographs of his image. Being a tranquil, yet curious drunk, I figured I would oblige. He removed the hood, and I was glad I did. I cringe when I think how close I came to being courtesy bound to desecrate my beautiful blog with that mug. Ladies, I don't know what you've been imagining, but gone was the golden-mulleted, muscle-bound star of my cop fantasies to be replaced with something resembling this with slightly fewer feathers. Secretly though, I couldn't help but think he could probably give some wicked beak.

Jack sat down and introduced the Ladyfriend, a blog lurker who gives lie to the notion that lurkers are fat, hairy, bearded slobs who have mastered the art of naked, one-handed net surfing. She knew about everyone's blogs, was very pretty - way out of Jack's league - and she was an actual writer. So henceforth, she will be referred to as AW.

Then he asked us how we liked his "ninja" mask. He seemed so proud of it that I didn't have the heart to tell him what it really was. And the only reason I know is because I've seen Pulp Fiction, like, 500 times.

We talked for awhile in the restaurant, then hit another bar in Rice Village. I drank some more and had what I think was a fairly good conversation with AW about her literary career. I came to the conclusion that I'm a blogger not a writer. But I'm very anxious to read her work when it comes out.

Jack, after singing a dirge to Jay with his lighter lit and tears in his eyes, suggested we go to a Karaoke bar. This is always a good idea, so we went.

The rest of the evening is a blur that tastes a lot like cranberry juice and vodka. But during that time I recall having my breasts fondled by AW and liking it, having another girl dedicate her performance of "I Touch Myself" to me (at least I think it was me), lamenting the crowsfeet at the corners of my eyes in the bathroom with Beth, drinking a shot with the kids at the next table, and mooning Jack and Tinyhands while they sang "Stand By Your Man."

We finally left and were making out/saying good-bye in the parking lot when:


I hit the deck on the second pop. I suppose it could have been a car backfiring, but I knew it wasn't. Sometimes I have a certain drunken clarity. Plus, I am a shameless coward. No one was hurt, thankfully, but Jack said he saw the muzzle flash from across the freeway. We finished our goodbyes and I must admit I clung a little tighter to Beth than I might have. It's a shame our visitor ended up with her knees in the dirt for a reason such as that, but hopefully all's well that ends well. And it ended well, I think.

Tinyhands: You are a sneak. Time to 'fess up, boy. And don't think you got away with squeezing my butt no matter how much you think I liked it.

Beth - I'm sorry we didn't get to hang out more. But hopefully you were more pleasantly occupied. And despite the gunshots, I think there will be a next time.

Jack - You are the best sport in the entire world. Thanks for letting me sharpen my claws on you just a little bit. And I sincerely hope you got to see a little more than my blog fat.

AW - You little minx. Don't be a stranger, m'kay?

Jethro - Thanks for staying sober and carting our asses around all night. I hope my brilliant conversation plus the head made it worth it. And don't worry about him, folks. I gave him head for all of us.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

How to Wildly Amuse Your Asian, Mel Brooks Fan of a Husband

While it's in repose, grab his male appendage, do your best imitation of Madeline Khan from Blazing Saddles, and say, "Oh, it's twue! It's twue!"