I was saddened to hear of the passing of Monkees singer Davy Jones, who was struck down by a heart attack at the age of 66 today. Now, I wasn't around when "The Monkees" TV show initially aired. But, with the advent of MTV, they began to show the episodes all over again, thus inciting a new wave of "Monkee-Mania." And now onto the real nature of this post.
Taking notice of the latest trends in today's pop culture, I am reminded of the past couple of decades that society is repeating everything that occured in the past. For example, when I was a child, the King and Queen of Pop were Michael Jackson and Madonna. Today, it's Justin Bieber and Lady Gaga. And now let's do a Now and Then according to decade of our Pop Culture kings and queens.
1950s: Elvis Presley. Buddy Holly. Little Richard. Frankie Avalon. Fabian.
(Footnote: Rock n Roll was "Men Only" territory at the time.)
1960s: The Beatles. The Rolling Stones. The Monkees. Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. The Mamas and the Papas. Connie Francis. Dusty Springfield. The Beach Boys. Aretha Franklin.
(Footnote: Although "The Monkees" were never considered a real group, they sure as heck pulled it of as if they were real.)
1970s: The Jacksons. The Osmonds. The DiFranco Family. The Carpenters. The Bee Gees. ABBA. Leif Garrett. David and Shaun Cassidy. Donna Summers. Diana Ross. Olivia Newton-John.
(Footnote: This is when the term "Divas" came into play and in great abundance)
1980s: Michael Jackson. Madonna. Def Leppard. Wham! The Eurythmics. Debbie Gibson. Tiffany. Whitney Houston. New Edition. New Kids on the Block. Bon Jovi. Poison.
(Footnote: NKOTB and New Edition was just the beginning of what will occur in the 90s)
1990s: Nirvana. Pearl Jam. Garbage. Soundgarden. Backstreet Boys. Britney Spears. Chritina Aguilera. Brandy. Monica. Aaliyah. JayZ. Destiny's Child. Snoop Dog. Puff Daddy.
(Footnote 1: I know, I left out 'Nsync. Reason? I never did truly like them. Footnote 2: I knew Diddy as Puff Daddy before he changed it to P-Diddy and then, eventually, Diddy Dirty Money)
2000s: Lenny Kravitz. Blink 182. Craig David. Maroon 5. Ronan Keating. Kylie Minogue. Bon Jovi. Def Leppard. NKOTBSB. Katy Perry. Lady Gaga.
(Footnote: Notice a pattern here. Yeah, people from Pop Culture's past are becoming popular yet again)
Now, I have analyzed the trends, musically. I will, further down the road, be examining and analyzing as far as toys and clothing. Check back for more on "Pop Culture Repeats Itself" in later posts.
Davy Jones, you were part of my childhood growing up and you will always be dearly missed by those that adored and loved you.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Ode To Le Freak. Part 2: What?! You Bitch!!
Now, in addition to her over neediness and overbearing Tweeting, LC was also very petty and insulting towards me. Now, in the looks department, I am not a bad looking woman. As a matter of fact, I think I look even better now than I did when I was younger. It just took a lot of life lessons, a gastric by-pass and a few bumps in the road to get me started on my way to hotness.
So anyways, I was being followed by the tour manager of a band Stee and I were big fans of. And he also followed Stee as well. LC wanted him to follow her as well and, in her usual fashion, tweeted to him over and over to follow her and mentioned me in one of those tweets. I just went "yeah, yeah, yeah, she's cool." He and Stee both knew that I did not appreciate her involving me in this. So, his response back to her was "Sorry, it's nothing personal."
In my eyes, he was being nice. In LC's, that was her time to strike. And the person she attacked first was me. She then replied, "Oh, I guess you only follow the pretty ones." Can we say "OUCH!" all together here, people? In addition, uncalled for and petty. When I saw that tweet, I knew she meant me. It made me angry, don't get me wrong, but I chose to overlook it because I was being nice at the time. In truth, I wanted to say to her, "What?! You bitch?!" But I knew I was better than that, still do.
So LC, here is another message for you to chew on: What you said I knew was directed right at me. And you were my "friend" at the time. I let it go because sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me. I am a much better person than you are. I do not do petty and piddly shit like use my ailment to get people to talk to me on Twitter. I do not befriend people and then go behind their backs talking shit about them. If I knew you were talking smack that wasn't true about me, I'd have unfollowed and blocked you LONG before you ruined my vacation. I am a really good person with a really good heart, sense of humor and I make friends quite easily by being myself. Unlike you, I don't flood celebrities' timelines with pleas to follow you because of your bad heart. It's their choice to follow me. If they follow me, good. If not, it's all good. I won't beg and plead and send incessant tweets saying I have terminal cancer and will die if you don't follow me.
And now I conclude with the following: Grow up! It's only Twitter. So Dwight Yoakam isn't following you. No big deal! Take a break from Twitter and find something to do with your time other than waste it begging and pleading celebrities to follow you because you are ill. Why not try jigsaw puzzles? They are a great way to pass the time in between Tweets. Find a nice, complicated one, preferably one containing 5,000 pieces and it's a Van Gogh.
Moving on...
So anyways, I was being followed by the tour manager of a band Stee and I were big fans of. And he also followed Stee as well. LC wanted him to follow her as well and, in her usual fashion, tweeted to him over and over to follow her and mentioned me in one of those tweets. I just went "yeah, yeah, yeah, she's cool." He and Stee both knew that I did not appreciate her involving me in this. So, his response back to her was "Sorry, it's nothing personal."
In my eyes, he was being nice. In LC's, that was her time to strike. And the person she attacked first was me. She then replied, "Oh, I guess you only follow the pretty ones." Can we say "OUCH!" all together here, people? In addition, uncalled for and petty. When I saw that tweet, I knew she meant me. It made me angry, don't get me wrong, but I chose to overlook it because I was being nice at the time. In truth, I wanted to say to her, "What?! You bitch?!" But I knew I was better than that, still do.
So LC, here is another message for you to chew on: What you said I knew was directed right at me. And you were my "friend" at the time. I let it go because sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me. I am a much better person than you are. I do not do petty and piddly shit like use my ailment to get people to talk to me on Twitter. I do not befriend people and then go behind their backs talking shit about them. If I knew you were talking smack that wasn't true about me, I'd have unfollowed and blocked you LONG before you ruined my vacation. I am a really good person with a really good heart, sense of humor and I make friends quite easily by being myself. Unlike you, I don't flood celebrities' timelines with pleas to follow you because of your bad heart. It's their choice to follow me. If they follow me, good. If not, it's all good. I won't beg and plead and send incessant tweets saying I have terminal cancer and will die if you don't follow me.
And now I conclude with the following: Grow up! It's only Twitter. So Dwight Yoakam isn't following you. No big deal! Take a break from Twitter and find something to do with your time other than waste it begging and pleading celebrities to follow you because you are ill. Why not try jigsaw puzzles? They are a great way to pass the time in between Tweets. Find a nice, complicated one, preferably one containing 5,000 pieces and it's a Van Gogh.
Moving on...
Monday, February 27, 2012
The (Twitter) Grudge: Ode To Le Freak
I joined Twitter two years ago as a way of connecting to the world. As if Facebook wasn't enough, now I've added Twitter to my Social Network resume, right? I found myself making all kinds of connections and friends in the Def Leppard world as well as the Paranormal. But, prior to my foray into the Paranormal, it was mainly Def Leppard. So I befriended this person on Twitter, whom I will call LC. She had posted that she had a heart condition and was living on modest means. So, I gave her some sympathetic advice and she thanked me and started following me. Here is where it gets...hmm...scary...WAIT...downright crazy! There we go!
Now, she followed me around as well as my good friend, Stee, whom I met on Twitter. It was okay after a while, but then we both took notice that LC was becoming quite overbearing. Strike that! EXTREMELY overbearing and EXTREMELY EXTREMELY needy. She would send direct messages in abundance and Tweet in EXTRA abundance. She would almost always used her heart ailment as a way of gaining followers and sympathy from both regular people as well as celebrities who are on Twitter. If you ask me, I think she is using and abusing that card.
I turned a blind eye to this for a while, but then the shit hit the fan. It all occured when I went away to California for a 5 day weekend. This was my very first trip to Disneyland and I was extremely excited to be going there. On my first day, I was on my way into the Magic Kingdom and I hear my Twitter alert go off. It was LC, wanting to know what I was doing and where I was going. I ignored it because I was too interested in seeing "Captain EO" to answer. As I was about to enter, Twitter alert goes off again. Her again, wanting to know why I wasn't answering. Ignored it, carried on with the ride and then onto the Matterhorn. On the Matterhorn, Twitter alert and LC again. Again, ignoring it. Go on the Haunted Mansion and having lunch at the Royal Street Cafe. Twitter Alert!
Imagine eating your Jambalaya and having to CHOKE on it due to aggravation! Needless to say, I was becoming increasingly AGGRAVATED! Here I was supposed to be relaxing and already I wanted to kick Goofy in the nuts! Stee finally came to my rescue in a Twitter mention asking LC to kind of give me a break because I was on vacation. I thanked her for that and hoped that the incessant messages would stop. Wishful thinking!
The evening went splendidly and I ended it with a pizza from Naples. I did want to see the fireworks, but it was incredibly windy so they cancelled them. So, I turned in early and watched some "Storytime with Belle," which can put one out instantaneously. So, I'm fast asleep, dreaming about my Prince Charming and then just as I was about to kiss him...ah haha...hmm...TWITTER ALERT FROM LC!! And it came at the Witching Hour! 3 o'clock in the morning!
Oh, yeah! Ohhh, yeah! I was about to ride off into my Happily Ever After and she wakes me up! And what did she wake me up for? "How is your vacation?" I was going to say, "AWFUL! You're ruining it for me! Cut the crap already I'm trying to sleep!!" However, I did not want to come across as a heartless bitch. So what did I do? Same as before. Ignored it. The next day, I sent a Tweet to Stee to tell her. She was utterly gobsmacked. Then I later discovered that LC had unfollowed me. Four hours later, she followed me again and sent me a message. I couldn't answer because I was on the Finding Nemo ride. Two hours later, she unfollowed me. 3 am later that night, she followed me and sent me a Tweet.
The next to last day at Disneyland, my vacation already in tatters, I finally had it up to Space Mountain with her antics and had to block her. So I salvaged the rest of my vacation and made the most of it. Then I went home and thought the whole LC matter was over and done with. Again, Wishful Thinking! She managed to change her account and followed me once again. To this, I immediately blocked her because she ruined one too many vacations for me. Then she made Stee wonder why and that was when Stee finally called her out on it and made no apologies for it. Glad she did.
And all was now quiet on the Western Front. Until a few days ago when I was reading my email and saw a message from Stee. LC was back and, in her wake, caused a celebrity to block Stee from following her. This has happened with Stee once before with LC and, to know this is happening again, really angers me. And I am one who only gets angry if anyone or anything hurts my friends or my family.
Now I have a message for LC, if she has the sand to read this: Enough is Enough! You have gone on long enough using your heart ailment as both a crutch and a card! You have spread vicious lies about my friend and, more than likely, about me as well. I know your game and I cannot believe you are still playing it after all this time. When are you going to let go of this fucking grudge you have with my friend?! She has been blocked by celebrities who follow her because of your lies about her! I am here to tell you now that your fucking bullshit ends today. The buck stops here! Your lies about my friend stop TODAY! And if you start up again, I will chew you up and spit you out like you were a piece of gum! BET THAT!
Now, she followed me around as well as my good friend, Stee, whom I met on Twitter. It was okay after a while, but then we both took notice that LC was becoming quite overbearing. Strike that! EXTREMELY overbearing and EXTREMELY EXTREMELY needy. She would send direct messages in abundance and Tweet in EXTRA abundance. She would almost always used her heart ailment as a way of gaining followers and sympathy from both regular people as well as celebrities who are on Twitter. If you ask me, I think she is using and abusing that card.
I turned a blind eye to this for a while, but then the shit hit the fan. It all occured when I went away to California for a 5 day weekend. This was my very first trip to Disneyland and I was extremely excited to be going there. On my first day, I was on my way into the Magic Kingdom and I hear my Twitter alert go off. It was LC, wanting to know what I was doing and where I was going. I ignored it because I was too interested in seeing "Captain EO" to answer. As I was about to enter, Twitter alert goes off again. Her again, wanting to know why I wasn't answering. Ignored it, carried on with the ride and then onto the Matterhorn. On the Matterhorn, Twitter alert and LC again. Again, ignoring it. Go on the Haunted Mansion and having lunch at the Royal Street Cafe. Twitter Alert!
Imagine eating your Jambalaya and having to CHOKE on it due to aggravation! Needless to say, I was becoming increasingly AGGRAVATED! Here I was supposed to be relaxing and already I wanted to kick Goofy in the nuts! Stee finally came to my rescue in a Twitter mention asking LC to kind of give me a break because I was on vacation. I thanked her for that and hoped that the incessant messages would stop. Wishful thinking!
The evening went splendidly and I ended it with a pizza from Naples. I did want to see the fireworks, but it was incredibly windy so they cancelled them. So, I turned in early and watched some "Storytime with Belle," which can put one out instantaneously. So, I'm fast asleep, dreaming about my Prince Charming and then just as I was about to kiss him...ah haha...hmm...TWITTER ALERT FROM LC!! And it came at the Witching Hour! 3 o'clock in the morning!
Oh, yeah! Ohhh, yeah! I was about to ride off into my Happily Ever After and she wakes me up! And what did she wake me up for? "How is your vacation?" I was going to say, "AWFUL! You're ruining it for me! Cut the crap already I'm trying to sleep!!" However, I did not want to come across as a heartless bitch. So what did I do? Same as before. Ignored it. The next day, I sent a Tweet to Stee to tell her. She was utterly gobsmacked. Then I later discovered that LC had unfollowed me. Four hours later, she followed me again and sent me a message. I couldn't answer because I was on the Finding Nemo ride. Two hours later, she unfollowed me. 3 am later that night, she followed me and sent me a Tweet.
The next to last day at Disneyland, my vacation already in tatters, I finally had it up to Space Mountain with her antics and had to block her. So I salvaged the rest of my vacation and made the most of it. Then I went home and thought the whole LC matter was over and done with. Again, Wishful Thinking! She managed to change her account and followed me once again. To this, I immediately blocked her because she ruined one too many vacations for me. Then she made Stee wonder why and that was when Stee finally called her out on it and made no apologies for it. Glad she did.
And all was now quiet on the Western Front. Until a few days ago when I was reading my email and saw a message from Stee. LC was back and, in her wake, caused a celebrity to block Stee from following her. This has happened with Stee once before with LC and, to know this is happening again, really angers me. And I am one who only gets angry if anyone or anything hurts my friends or my family.
Now I have a message for LC, if she has the sand to read this: Enough is Enough! You have gone on long enough using your heart ailment as both a crutch and a card! You have spread vicious lies about my friend and, more than likely, about me as well. I know your game and I cannot believe you are still playing it after all this time. When are you going to let go of this fucking grudge you have with my friend?! She has been blocked by celebrities who follow her because of your lies about her! I am here to tell you now that your fucking bullshit ends today. The buck stops here! Your lies about my friend stop TODAY! And if you start up again, I will chew you up and spit you out like you were a piece of gum! BET THAT!
Saturday, February 25, 2012
My Sense Of Humor!
Let's talk about the number one part of my personality: My sense of humor. I have a brand of humor that has been fashioned over the years to my specifications. I have been honing my brand since I was a teenager and would entertain my friends at lunch and after school. It has gotten better now that I am an adult and don't have to look over both shoulders to see if the teacher is around.
I find humor in the littlest of things that grace my path in life. And that's a shit load of things. I can look at particular signs, read them wrong and I'd laugh at it. One day, I read a sign that said "Pop n Spray" when I thought it said "Poop n Spray." There is truth in advertising for ya! Another time, going to lunch I looked up at a marquee sign and saw "Charlotte's Web" spelled out "Charlottees Webb." First off, the person who put this up obviously was the first out at their school's spelling be. Second, it sounds like a ghetto version of said storybook.
I find humor in people just opening their mouths and speaking. There are occasions when people say something and they sound completely sincere. However, to me, they don't sound sincere at all. They just sound, as George Carlin so eloquently put it, stupid, full of shit and fucking nuts. George applied all three to Dan Quayle so I am applying it to all of the GOP candidates this election season. And I am not leaving Palin out of this equation too! And some guys that tried to hit on me while I am working!
I find humor in food, too. Yes, there can be humor found there. Here's the story! I went to the grocery store and when I am in the grocery store I shop around even though I am only in to pick up one item. So, I go down the International food aisle. Lo and behold, a vast MECCA of humor to be found. I pick up this bottle of seasoning and I noticed it had a funny name. Then again, not exactly funny, but more like "What the fuck?!" It was "COCK-FLAVORED SEASONING." I had to rub my eyes because I thought they were out of focus. But I turned back and it was still on the label. THUD! I was on the floor I was lauging so hard. What would that taste like, you ask? To this I say "YOU try it! I'm not touching it! Nor would I want that on my burger either.
Another humorous food find. I had the chance to go to London and this was my first time going so I was extremely excited. My hotel is situated near a small food shop (aka Convenience Store to us Yanks) and, one night, after I had finished shopping in Knightsbridge I was walking back and I looked in the window. There was a line of Pringles sitting on the ledge. So I took notice of the different flavors. Prawn Cocktail, Texas BBQ, Sour cream and onions, Bacon, it went on. But what was particularly funny when I took notice of the cans is that underneath them was the label "Suitable for Vegetarians." So I took a look at the flavor "Bacon" and back down at "Suitable for Vegetarians." Something's not right here. Re-read the story and you will catch my drift eventually.
In conclusion, I find humor in just about anything and I twist it around, season it up and serve it to you straight. Hehe...straight.
I find humor in the littlest of things that grace my path in life. And that's a shit load of things. I can look at particular signs, read them wrong and I'd laugh at it. One day, I read a sign that said "Pop n Spray" when I thought it said "Poop n Spray." There is truth in advertising for ya! Another time, going to lunch I looked up at a marquee sign and saw "Charlotte's Web" spelled out "Charlottees Webb." First off, the person who put this up obviously was the first out at their school's spelling be. Second, it sounds like a ghetto version of said storybook.
I find humor in people just opening their mouths and speaking. There are occasions when people say something and they sound completely sincere. However, to me, they don't sound sincere at all. They just sound, as George Carlin so eloquently put it, stupid, full of shit and fucking nuts. George applied all three to Dan Quayle so I am applying it to all of the GOP candidates this election season. And I am not leaving Palin out of this equation too! And some guys that tried to hit on me while I am working!
I find humor in food, too. Yes, there can be humor found there. Here's the story! I went to the grocery store and when I am in the grocery store I shop around even though I am only in to pick up one item. So, I go down the International food aisle. Lo and behold, a vast MECCA of humor to be found. I pick up this bottle of seasoning and I noticed it had a funny name. Then again, not exactly funny, but more like "What the fuck?!" It was "COCK-FLAVORED SEASONING." I had to rub my eyes because I thought they were out of focus. But I turned back and it was still on the label. THUD! I was on the floor I was lauging so hard. What would that taste like, you ask? To this I say "YOU try it! I'm not touching it! Nor would I want that on my burger either.
Another humorous food find. I had the chance to go to London and this was my first time going so I was extremely excited. My hotel is situated near a small food shop (aka Convenience Store to us Yanks) and, one night, after I had finished shopping in Knightsbridge I was walking back and I looked in the window. There was a line of Pringles sitting on the ledge. So I took notice of the different flavors. Prawn Cocktail, Texas BBQ, Sour cream and onions, Bacon, it went on. But what was particularly funny when I took notice of the cans is that underneath them was the label "Suitable for Vegetarians." So I took a look at the flavor "Bacon" and back down at "Suitable for Vegetarians." Something's not right here. Re-read the story and you will catch my drift eventually.
In conclusion, I find humor in just about anything and I twist it around, season it up and serve it to you straight. Hehe...straight.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Whorebots and Passion Parties
As you all know, I am on Twitter almost every single day. Now, it's not like I don't get excited when I have new followers, but there are certain types of followers that I get that are quite ridiculous, but also quite hysterical as well. However, there is one follower, if you want to call them that, that seems to drive me insane.
That follower is called a "Whorebot." What is a Whorebot, you ask? It's this follower with an outrageously sexy-sounding name which you think you've never heard before. And in their profile picture it shows either a really voluptuous woman or two blonde babes tongue kissing each other. And it's always the same picture, but under a different name. In addition, they all have the same profile description. Here are what some of them say:
"I hope to fuck on the moon next summer."
"I love to fuck."
"We love to fuck and we don't fucking care."
"I use cucumbers as a dildo."
Alright, that last one was a bit out there, but you get what I'm talking about, right? Well, it seems whenever I mention anything of a sexual nature that I get followed by these mystery women who love to fuck apparently. And I go about the normal means because I know these people don't exist: I report them as spam and block them. Then, just minutes, hours and even days later I get followed by a different name, same profile picture. Block! Block! Block! Block! BLOCK!
To any Whorebots who are "reading" this post, I have one request: STOP FOLLOWING ME! I am not interested in your obsession about wanting to fuck on the moon or on Uranus by next summer. If you think about it, any pornographic film that wishes to actually be made on any planet or any moon has to have a film budget as big as the movie "Avatar." In addition, it's going to be damn near impossible to have an orgasm in space. Because in space NOBODY can hear you scream, "Oh, yeah, baby, HARDER!" And how the fuck are you going to breathe outside your space suit, Valeria VonSpewCunt XXX?! Isn't it scientifically known that if you were in Outer Space without oxygen every molecule in your body would explode?! Oh wait, you're a bot, you don't read!
Moving on...
Another follower I am getting, which I don't mind getting followed by, are the representatives of these companies that host Passion Parties. Now, some of you are right now giggling at this. Some of you are wondering what Passion Parties are. Let me explain what they are to you.
They are kind of like a Tupperware party, but the things that are being sold are things that are not keeping last night's Meatloaf fresh. As a matter of fact, it's keeping things fresh in a very different kind of department. It's keeping your relationship with your significant other fresh in the Intimacy Department. What is being demonstrated at these parties are the following items:
1) Dildoes
2) Vibrators
3) His and Her Lubricants
4) Pocket Pussies (Yes, Men have Passion Parties too!)
5) Lotions
I had the chance to go to one of these Passion Parties hosted by my cousin. Now this was my very first one so I was all nervous because I didn't want anybody to know what turned me on in THAT area. So when the time came to "handle the merchandise," I was holding back a shit load of giggling because what was being passed around was something other than Tupperware. And I love how they don't call it a "Vibrator!" They refer to them as "Massagers." I'm serious! They hand me this pink VIBRATOR and I am trying to work the speeds on it. I press the wrong button and it starts twirling and lighting up. I start cracking up laughing and I pass it on to the next person in line. Then they began to demonstrate something called "Bullets." I had never seen them before and when I found out what they did and where they went, I immediately passed on "trying it out." The last thing they passed around was a purple gel Dildo, which didn't look like much fun. Then again, it's just limp and flopping around. Kinda like the real thing.
So, what is my verdict on Passion Parties? Sex is natural. We all do it. Why not try and spark it up a little? So I say it's a go. Enough said!
And if you ask me if I actually bought anything at this party, I have this to say: What I bought is between me and my host. None of your business.
That follower is called a "Whorebot." What is a Whorebot, you ask? It's this follower with an outrageously sexy-sounding name which you think you've never heard before. And in their profile picture it shows either a really voluptuous woman or two blonde babes tongue kissing each other. And it's always the same picture, but under a different name. In addition, they all have the same profile description. Here are what some of them say:
"I hope to fuck on the moon next summer."
"I love to fuck."
"We love to fuck and we don't fucking care."
"I use cucumbers as a dildo."
Alright, that last one was a bit out there, but you get what I'm talking about, right? Well, it seems whenever I mention anything of a sexual nature that I get followed by these mystery women who love to fuck apparently. And I go about the normal means because I know these people don't exist: I report them as spam and block them. Then, just minutes, hours and even days later I get followed by a different name, same profile picture. Block! Block! Block! Block! BLOCK!
To any Whorebots who are "reading" this post, I have one request: STOP FOLLOWING ME! I am not interested in your obsession about wanting to fuck on the moon or on Uranus by next summer. If you think about it, any pornographic film that wishes to actually be made on any planet or any moon has to have a film budget as big as the movie "Avatar." In addition, it's going to be damn near impossible to have an orgasm in space. Because in space NOBODY can hear you scream, "Oh, yeah, baby, HARDER!" And how the fuck are you going to breathe outside your space suit, Valeria VonSpewCunt XXX?! Isn't it scientifically known that if you were in Outer Space without oxygen every molecule in your body would explode?! Oh wait, you're a bot, you don't read!
Moving on...
Another follower I am getting, which I don't mind getting followed by, are the representatives of these companies that host Passion Parties. Now, some of you are right now giggling at this. Some of you are wondering what Passion Parties are. Let me explain what they are to you.
They are kind of like a Tupperware party, but the things that are being sold are things that are not keeping last night's Meatloaf fresh. As a matter of fact, it's keeping things fresh in a very different kind of department. It's keeping your relationship with your significant other fresh in the Intimacy Department. What is being demonstrated at these parties are the following items:
1) Dildoes
2) Vibrators
3) His and Her Lubricants
4) Pocket Pussies (Yes, Men have Passion Parties too!)
5) Lotions
I had the chance to go to one of these Passion Parties hosted by my cousin. Now this was my very first one so I was all nervous because I didn't want anybody to know what turned me on in THAT area. So when the time came to "handle the merchandise," I was holding back a shit load of giggling because what was being passed around was something other than Tupperware. And I love how they don't call it a "Vibrator!" They refer to them as "Massagers." I'm serious! They hand me this pink VIBRATOR and I am trying to work the speeds on it. I press the wrong button and it starts twirling and lighting up. I start cracking up laughing and I pass it on to the next person in line. Then they began to demonstrate something called "Bullets." I had never seen them before and when I found out what they did and where they went, I immediately passed on "trying it out." The last thing they passed around was a purple gel Dildo, which didn't look like much fun. Then again, it's just limp and flopping around. Kinda like the real thing.
So, what is my verdict on Passion Parties? Sex is natural. We all do it. Why not try and spark it up a little? So I say it's a go. Enough said!
And if you ask me if I actually bought anything at this party, I have this to say: What I bought is between me and my host. None of your business.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
You Are Out Of My League!
There are men in this world who act like they are God's gift to women. Some act like they can get the girl, but feels she is either not their type or out of their league. Then there are those who are a combination of both. They think they are God's gift to women AND proceed to go after those women who are not their type AND are way out of their league. Where I work, I get approached by these fruitcakes who feel like I am just their type and in their league. To this I just want to say, "Dude, you're delusional! Leave me alone!"
Here are a few of these guys that I have encountered over the years.
1) "Out of My League" Religiously: I have known this guy for years and always thought he was a nice guy. That is until he became my friend on Facebook and began to ask me out. I kept refusing. It wasn't until he began to say he wanted to get with me that I had to tell him that I wasn't ready. This all on the heels of a bad break up, too. The end result was him being blocked from ever following me on both Facebook and Twitter. Reason: He was out of my league, religiously. This guy is from a community where their kind are not allowed to date outside their community AT ALL. Even if I did express interest, I would have lost my job because this community has the ability to make such an action necessary. Yeah, they are THAT strict. Inquire, if you must.
2) "Out of My League" Socially: This Emmy-Award winner has been trying for over a year to get me to go out with him. As usual, I refused. However, unlike the last guy, he does it in person rather than through the Social Networks I frequent. And he does it frequently. He keeps asking me to go see a play with him. I say no. He wants me to go to a movie with him. I say no again. He nearly runs out in front of my car while I am driving it and gives me "The Stalker" look. I brushed it off, but that very day I bought a can of Pepper Spray. I have no interest in him. Why? He's out of my league, socially. I don't know him. I don't know who he hangs around with. Therefore, he has no chance with me.
3) "Out of My League" PERIOD!: This guy, who has since been banned, has tried numerous times to ask me out and has even gone as far as to proposing marriage to me. I do not want anything to do with this guy for a reason. He is unemployed. He spends most of the day drunk. He just hangs out on a street corner. I got flashes of my future had I stooped down to his level: Working while he mooches off of me and not paying any attention to the kids. I lied and told him I was involved with someone, which I am obviously not. He's out of my league, PERIOD! Enough said!
I do not know why these idiot men think they have any kind of chance with me! I like to say they are under delusions of grandeur, but that's just being cruel to be kind. I just want to flat out tell these three they have no chance in hell with me and to leave me the hell alone.
I know what you're thinking. You're all probably thinking that my standards are set a little high. But, come on, I have to for the following reasons. Have some tea and sympathy for me.
Here are a few of these guys that I have encountered over the years.
1) "Out of My League" Religiously: I have known this guy for years and always thought he was a nice guy. That is until he became my friend on Facebook and began to ask me out. I kept refusing. It wasn't until he began to say he wanted to get with me that I had to tell him that I wasn't ready. This all on the heels of a bad break up, too. The end result was him being blocked from ever following me on both Facebook and Twitter. Reason: He was out of my league, religiously. This guy is from a community where their kind are not allowed to date outside their community AT ALL. Even if I did express interest, I would have lost my job because this community has the ability to make such an action necessary. Yeah, they are THAT strict. Inquire, if you must.
2) "Out of My League" Socially: This Emmy-Award winner has been trying for over a year to get me to go out with him. As usual, I refused. However, unlike the last guy, he does it in person rather than through the Social Networks I frequent. And he does it frequently. He keeps asking me to go see a play with him. I say no. He wants me to go to a movie with him. I say no again. He nearly runs out in front of my car while I am driving it and gives me "The Stalker" look. I brushed it off, but that very day I bought a can of Pepper Spray. I have no interest in him. Why? He's out of my league, socially. I don't know him. I don't know who he hangs around with. Therefore, he has no chance with me.
3) "Out of My League" PERIOD!: This guy, who has since been banned, has tried numerous times to ask me out and has even gone as far as to proposing marriage to me. I do not want anything to do with this guy for a reason. He is unemployed. He spends most of the day drunk. He just hangs out on a street corner. I got flashes of my future had I stooped down to his level: Working while he mooches off of me and not paying any attention to the kids. I lied and told him I was involved with someone, which I am obviously not. He's out of my league, PERIOD! Enough said!
I do not know why these idiot men think they have any kind of chance with me! I like to say they are under delusions of grandeur, but that's just being cruel to be kind. I just want to flat out tell these three they have no chance in hell with me and to leave me the hell alone.
I know what you're thinking. You're all probably thinking that my standards are set a little high. But, come on, I have to for the following reasons. Have some tea and sympathy for me.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Back To The Gym
As many of you know, I have struggled for years with my weight and health. I used to think getting fit was never for me. However, in recent months, I found myself, for once in my life, sticking to something. I mean, REALLY sticking to something. That somthing was going back to the gym and getting toned up and fit. Something I never thought I would ever do.
In addition, I stopped drinking soda (on my 8th day, thank you!) and also gave up on candy (with the exception of lollipops). I have replaced the soda with SmartWater and Trenta Unsweetened Green Teas from Starbucks. Why lollipops? I do, every now and then, need a wee bit of sugar and because it's the right size as well.
Anyways, I have gone to various gyms over the years and have felt very uncomfortable in them. I would get very uncomfortable and very self-conscious about people looking at me. However, I came to this particular gym because I knew people that went there. And there is a "Muscle Maker Grill" right next door as well. So, I said to myself, "At last! A place I can be myself at! No one is going to judge me at this place! Where the hell has this place been?!"
So, I go in my first time and the first thing I do is put in my buds (Thanks, Billy Tolley!), crank the DJ Inferno mixes that I downloaded onto my iPod (Thanks again, Billy!) and do some killer Cardio work out (Thank you, Tread Mill!). After over an hour on the tread mill, I go and get my stuff from the locker. Then I see the Aquatic Center and that prompted me to purchase a bathing suit, which is something I never wear and I live near the beach to begin with. A pool! Yay! Now I don't have to worry if the paparazzi is going to be around to take pictures of my ass.
This Friday morning, I have got a very important appointment with a personal trainer. I know what you're probably saying, "You're doing it on your own. Why need a personal trainer?" First off, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Second, I need the discipline and motivation. Third, I am a very rigid person now so I need someone to be rigid along with me, exercise wise.
And now, as I go down the path of fitness, I look forward to a slimmer, more healthier me. Gone are the days of being over 300 lbs and unhappy. No mas to the eating to cope. Adieu fried chicken and soda. Now onto greener pastures.
In addition, I stopped drinking soda (on my 8th day, thank you!) and also gave up on candy (with the exception of lollipops). I have replaced the soda with SmartWater and Trenta Unsweetened Green Teas from Starbucks. Why lollipops? I do, every now and then, need a wee bit of sugar and because it's the right size as well.
Anyways, I have gone to various gyms over the years and have felt very uncomfortable in them. I would get very uncomfortable and very self-conscious about people looking at me. However, I came to this particular gym because I knew people that went there. And there is a "Muscle Maker Grill" right next door as well. So, I said to myself, "At last! A place I can be myself at! No one is going to judge me at this place! Where the hell has this place been?!"
So, I go in my first time and the first thing I do is put in my buds (Thanks, Billy Tolley!), crank the DJ Inferno mixes that I downloaded onto my iPod (Thanks again, Billy!) and do some killer Cardio work out (Thank you, Tread Mill!). After over an hour on the tread mill, I go and get my stuff from the locker. Then I see the Aquatic Center and that prompted me to purchase a bathing suit, which is something I never wear and I live near the beach to begin with. A pool! Yay! Now I don't have to worry if the paparazzi is going to be around to take pictures of my ass.
This Friday morning, I have got a very important appointment with a personal trainer. I know what you're probably saying, "You're doing it on your own. Why need a personal trainer?" First off, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Second, I need the discipline and motivation. Third, I am a very rigid person now so I need someone to be rigid along with me, exercise wise.
And now, as I go down the path of fitness, I look forward to a slimmer, more healthier me. Gone are the days of being over 300 lbs and unhappy. No mas to the eating to cope. Adieu fried chicken and soda. Now onto greener pastures.
Going Out on a Date: Velma's Rules
Okay, so I haven't necessarily been going out on dates a lot. As a matter of fact, my last date ended with a predictable outcome: He stood me up. Painful, yes. Learning experience, absolutely. However, since then, I have devised a list of rules of when I actually land that first date. Here's how it breaks down.
1) Let's arrange a time and place that benefits both of us. And if a situation should arise, let's rearrange it. Don't be a dick and stand me up, please. Be a man and own up to the fact you forgot Bowling Night out with your homies fell on the night we were supposed to go out. Then again, why not invite me along? I Love Bowling, too!
2) Make sure that the place we pick is a place we both like. I do not want to sit at Chez Oui Oui because I like it and you don't. Don't sit there making the "I So Want to Spit This Out" face in front of me while I am enjoying my Duck A L'Orange, okay? I mean, seriously! Did you order the Foie Gras to impress me or were you just curious? JUST SPIT IT OUT! Now let's go to TGI Friday's, stupid!
3) Dress comfortably for both our benefit. I do enjoy fine dining and dressing in our best. However, that is just if it's a wedding reception or very special occasion. For a night out, casual is totally acceptable. Jeans, nice shirt, nice blouse, etc. Don't show up for a night out to a haunted location wearing a penguin suit, please? You look like a waiter with an EMF Detector! Go change!
4) Do not feign having a good time and I won't do the same to you. If you think the date is going south, just say so and I will be more than accomodating and I expect it from you too.
5) Lastly, that good night kiss? I do not mind that your breath stinks. Just kiss me already! Garlic breath or no garlic breath! And if we have been dating long enough and the time and moment is right, who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky. ;-)
Enough said! So what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?! Time for our date! LET'S GO!
1) Let's arrange a time and place that benefits both of us. And if a situation should arise, let's rearrange it. Don't be a dick and stand me up, please. Be a man and own up to the fact you forgot Bowling Night out with your homies fell on the night we were supposed to go out. Then again, why not invite me along? I Love Bowling, too!
2) Make sure that the place we pick is a place we both like. I do not want to sit at Chez Oui Oui because I like it and you don't. Don't sit there making the "I So Want to Spit This Out" face in front of me while I am enjoying my Duck A L'Orange, okay? I mean, seriously! Did you order the Foie Gras to impress me or were you just curious? JUST SPIT IT OUT! Now let's go to TGI Friday's, stupid!
3) Dress comfortably for both our benefit. I do enjoy fine dining and dressing in our best. However, that is just if it's a wedding reception or very special occasion. For a night out, casual is totally acceptable. Jeans, nice shirt, nice blouse, etc. Don't show up for a night out to a haunted location wearing a penguin suit, please? You look like a waiter with an EMF Detector! Go change!
4) Do not feign having a good time and I won't do the same to you. If you think the date is going south, just say so and I will be more than accomodating and I expect it from you too.
5) Lastly, that good night kiss? I do not mind that your breath stinks. Just kiss me already! Garlic breath or no garlic breath! And if we have been dating long enough and the time and moment is right, who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky. ;-)
Enough said! So what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?! Time for our date! LET'S GO!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Quittin' Cola Cold
I have been drinking soda for the longest time, eversince my early teens or even further back than that. Now, you can imagine all the various products I've tried over the years. Pepsi, Crystal Pepsi, Sprite, 7 Up, Pepsi Java, Tab, Dr. Pepper, the list goes on. But, in my adult years, I found myself consuming Diet Coke and Caffeine Free Diet Coke by the case. I would leave for work with Diet Coke in hand almost every day.
It wasn't until recent information provided to me by great and kind friends that I finally realized that I am consuming vast amounts of chemicals and stuff that is bad for my body. So, this morning as I woke up wanting my customary can of chemicals, I told myself, "Don't even think about going in that garage! Do you want to live longer?" The answer was clear.
Today, as I drove to work, I stopped at the only convenience store I do trust to serve good food AND to have the calorie count listed on their website: Wawa's. So I pick up a breakfast sandwich and a bottle of Glaceau SmartWater. My head and body were tempted to turn to the left where the Coca Cola products were, but my body turned towards the Honest Tea Honey Green Tea. My hands reached out, grabbed one and hurried to pay for my breakfast. I hopped into my Velma-mobile and sped the rest of the way to work without even thinking about it. Yay me!
So, to my GAC family out there, before you grab that extraordinarily tempting ice cold can of Coca Cola or Pepsi or whatever your poison may be, look on the side of the can and read the ingredients. Then, Google each ingredient and then promptly throw the can away without even opening it. Enough said.
It has been three hours and sixteen minutes and I am already experiencing the Cold Turkey effect. Nausea, irritability, chills, etc. However, my goal remains clear: I am going into my garage tonight, taking all the cans of Coca Cola and Diet Coke that I see before me, open them up and dump them down the toilet. My resolve is very strong. I have never been this sure and strong since I dumped my ex-boyfriend.
For now, I am just going to have to live with the Cold Turkey effects a la Rodney Dangerfield in "Easy Money." You will see what I mean here.
It wasn't until recent information provided to me by great and kind friends that I finally realized that I am consuming vast amounts of chemicals and stuff that is bad for my body. So, this morning as I woke up wanting my customary can of chemicals, I told myself, "Don't even think about going in that garage! Do you want to live longer?" The answer was clear.
Today, as I drove to work, I stopped at the only convenience store I do trust to serve good food AND to have the calorie count listed on their website: Wawa's. So I pick up a breakfast sandwich and a bottle of Glaceau SmartWater. My head and body were tempted to turn to the left where the Coca Cola products were, but my body turned towards the Honest Tea Honey Green Tea. My hands reached out, grabbed one and hurried to pay for my breakfast. I hopped into my Velma-mobile and sped the rest of the way to work without even thinking about it. Yay me!
So, to my GAC family out there, before you grab that extraordinarily tempting ice cold can of Coca Cola or Pepsi or whatever your poison may be, look on the side of the can and read the ingredients. Then, Google each ingredient and then promptly throw the can away without even opening it. Enough said.
It has been three hours and sixteen minutes and I am already experiencing the Cold Turkey effect. Nausea, irritability, chills, etc. However, my goal remains clear: I am going into my garage tonight, taking all the cans of Coca Cola and Diet Coke that I see before me, open them up and dump them down the toilet. My resolve is very strong. I have never been this sure and strong since I dumped my ex-boyfriend.
For now, I am just going to have to live with the Cold Turkey effects a la Rodney Dangerfield in "Easy Money." You will see what I mean here.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
It's All About Angles
Tonight I was saddened to hear of the passing of Whitney Houston. At just 48 years old, she had it all: Talent, Heart and Beauty. I was shocked when I saw it via Twitter from Zak Bagans. I just could not believe it! I turned on the news and saw that it was all true. Now, in between watching CNN and checking Tweets, I noticed that one of my followers sent a message to him. What I saw offended me.
This person suggested to him to do an episode around Whitney Houston hauntings. Excuse me?! She just died and you're making a suggestion like that NOW?! I was not about to sit idly by and I sent her a message asking her "Don't you think you're saying that a bit too soon?" The answer I got back did not settle things for me, "No. It's an idea birthed out of something sad. Death is a natural part of life." THAT automatically deserved a block and so I ended the conversation with "If you think that idea is a good idea, you need your head examined. #Blocked."
I thank god for my GAC Family for supporting me in following suit of unfollowing and blocking her. What she said was stupid, way out of line and way, way too soon. Whitney Houston just died. Her body is not even in the ground and you have the gall to suggest that?! That's tasteless and not classy.
Now onto the subject of angles. People may agree with me in my thinking that she said it way too soon and was out of line. Some might think that yeah, maybe it is a good idea and that I was out of line. Others might say that I am overreacting entirely. Like I said, it's all about angles. Think about it.
Now, in memory of Whitney, here is a song I used to play over and over again as a child in the 80s. Enjoy!
This person suggested to him to do an episode around Whitney Houston hauntings. Excuse me?! She just died and you're making a suggestion like that NOW?! I was not about to sit idly by and I sent her a message asking her "Don't you think you're saying that a bit too soon?" The answer I got back did not settle things for me, "No. It's an idea birthed out of something sad. Death is a natural part of life." THAT automatically deserved a block and so I ended the conversation with "If you think that idea is a good idea, you need your head examined. #Blocked."
I thank god for my GAC Family for supporting me in following suit of unfollowing and blocking her. What she said was stupid, way out of line and way, way too soon. Whitney Houston just died. Her body is not even in the ground and you have the gall to suggest that?! That's tasteless and not classy.
Now onto the subject of angles. People may agree with me in my thinking that she said it way too soon and was out of line. Some might think that yeah, maybe it is a good idea and that I was out of line. Others might say that I am overreacting entirely. Like I said, it's all about angles. Think about it.
Now, in memory of Whitney, here is a song I used to play over and over again as a child in the 80s. Enjoy!
Friday, February 10, 2012
Please Read A Book!
As many of you know, I work in a library. As a matter of fact, I've always known I would become a librarian, eversince I was a little girl and my mom took me to the library for my first book. What was the very first book I ever read? "Pippi Longstocking" by Astrid Lindgren. I remember picking it up and not ever putting it down. I enjoyed the thrill of her adventures with Tommy and Annika and how she had no parents telling her what to do. I loved it! When it came time to return the book, I was sad but I was soon consoled with my next read: "Sarah Plain and Tall" by Patricia McLachlan. Ahh!
As I got older, my love for reading grew more and more. I found myself reading books by Ruth Minsky Sender (The Cage and To Life), which got me interested in what happened to some of my relatives in The Holocaust. This got me into reading Non-Fiction books in addition to Fiction books as well. Thus, I became a huge fan of American and World History and began reading history books.
If reading were an addiction, I'd surely would not want to go to rehab to stop it.
However, with today's youth, I am starting to hang my head in disappointment. They would rather be on the Internet playing violent games, bullying other teens and looking at R-rated materials. There are days when I am in the Teen Area of the library and they are sitting there like mindless ZOMBIES playing these war games and chatting with friends on Facebook. To this, I just want to go over to the Power Strip and yank it clean out of the wall! Then I would toss a random book at them and scream "PLEASE READ A BOOK!"
Please, do me a favor? Let me keep my job, however long I might be at it, and take a book out! I mean, something that will let you exercise your imagination. Something that will take you off Facebook, Twitter, whatever social network you frequent or abuse. Take out a book and read for a good two hours and stretch out your imagination. The computer WILL be there when you get back. So you missed tending your crops on "Frontierville" you can always grow more.
To those of you readers who are parents, I highly and strongly encourage you to take your children to your local public library, sign them up for a library card and start them on the right path to reading. Start them off with one of the first books you've ever read yourself when you were their age. It's an amazing experience and it's something you will always remember even when they're all grown up.
And now, I present to you a video of my former Supervisor reading a book called "El Leon y El Raton" for our Libros Y Mas committee. Enjoy!
As I got older, my love for reading grew more and more. I found myself reading books by Ruth Minsky Sender (The Cage and To Life), which got me interested in what happened to some of my relatives in The Holocaust. This got me into reading Non-Fiction books in addition to Fiction books as well. Thus, I became a huge fan of American and World History and began reading history books.
If reading were an addiction, I'd surely would not want to go to rehab to stop it.
However, with today's youth, I am starting to hang my head in disappointment. They would rather be on the Internet playing violent games, bullying other teens and looking at R-rated materials. There are days when I am in the Teen Area of the library and they are sitting there like mindless ZOMBIES playing these war games and chatting with friends on Facebook. To this, I just want to go over to the Power Strip and yank it clean out of the wall! Then I would toss a random book at them and scream "PLEASE READ A BOOK!"
Please, do me a favor? Let me keep my job, however long I might be at it, and take a book out! I mean, something that will let you exercise your imagination. Something that will take you off Facebook, Twitter, whatever social network you frequent or abuse. Take out a book and read for a good two hours and stretch out your imagination. The computer WILL be there when you get back. So you missed tending your crops on "Frontierville" you can always grow more.
To those of you readers who are parents, I highly and strongly encourage you to take your children to your local public library, sign them up for a library card and start them on the right path to reading. Start them off with one of the first books you've ever read yourself when you were their age. It's an amazing experience and it's something you will always remember even when they're all grown up.
And now, I present to you a video of my former Supervisor reading a book called "El Leon y El Raton" for our Libros Y Mas committee. Enjoy!
Please Be Serious! It Saves Me The Aggravation!
In recent news, I read that a woman living in Long Island was suing the State of New York for $900 Trillion dollars for emotional distress and other issues in regards to having her kids taken away from her three years ago. This prompted me to ask that perennial question: WHAT THE FUCK?! What on earth is this woman thinking?! $900 Trillion dollars?! Think about that number, people! $900 TRILLION DOLLARS! That's enough to sink this country further into the hole than it already is!
Let's be serious about this for a few minutes here! Let's look at this case. This woman had her children taken from her. Reason? She was mentally unfit to care for them and, therefore, had to be taken away. Strike one! She then claimed that the State violated her family's civil rights. Uhm, think not, psycho! Strike two! Lastly, I highly, HIGHLY doubt your emotional "distress" is worth $900 Trillion dollars! Where the fuck did you come up with that amount?! Did you breeze by the "National Debt" marquee and look up and deduce that amount?! If anything, my emotional trauma is worth only 10 cents, not $900 Trillion! I also highly and extremely doubt you will see even that much in a settlement that you may or may not get.
To this, I say as I said in the title above: Please Be Serious! It Saves Me The Aggravation!
This woman has clearly decided to further block up our already clogged legal system with her claim of her family's civil rights being violated and, therefore, emotional trauma was caused. To this I say to you, O Mighty Clogger, GET OVER IT! What you did was your own fault! You refused help for whatever it was that was ailing you and it cost you your kids. They did was they thought was best for the children. Drop your suit and accept the fact that the State was acting in their best judgment.
Oh, and as far as $900 trillion goes, GET SERIOUS!! $400,000, understandable. $900 trillion, you're WAY out there!
Let's be serious about this for a few minutes here! Let's look at this case. This woman had her children taken from her. Reason? She was mentally unfit to care for them and, therefore, had to be taken away. Strike one! She then claimed that the State violated her family's civil rights. Uhm, think not, psycho! Strike two! Lastly, I highly, HIGHLY doubt your emotional "distress" is worth $900 Trillion dollars! Where the fuck did you come up with that amount?! Did you breeze by the "National Debt" marquee and look up and deduce that amount?! If anything, my emotional trauma is worth only 10 cents, not $900 Trillion! I also highly and extremely doubt you will see even that much in a settlement that you may or may not get.
To this, I say as I said in the title above: Please Be Serious! It Saves Me The Aggravation!
This woman has clearly decided to further block up our already clogged legal system with her claim of her family's civil rights being violated and, therefore, emotional trauma was caused. To this I say to you, O Mighty Clogger, GET OVER IT! What you did was your own fault! You refused help for whatever it was that was ailing you and it cost you your kids. They did was they thought was best for the children. Drop your suit and accept the fact that the State was acting in their best judgment.
Oh, and as far as $900 trillion goes, GET SERIOUS!! $400,000, understandable. $900 trillion, you're WAY out there!
My Life With Karma
I was taught a very valuable lesson in regards to life: You do unto others as you would have done unto yourself. In other words, treat others as you expect to be treated. This lesson has served me well every single day. I treat people just like I expect to be treated myself. I respect every single person regardless of their race, religion, sexual orientation, etc.
Whenever I think on the subject of Karma, I look back on my past and I learn from the people in it. For example, I looked back on my high school years and thought on the guys who I thought liked me, but in truth were just teasing me while pretending to like me. There was one boy, Jeff, who was a star on the football team. Blonde hair, blue eyes, everything a girl would want and melt over. He would wolf whistle at me and smile at me, treat me like a gem. But, one day, he showed his true colors with two words: Ugly girl. OUCH!
You can imagine how utterly "destroyed" I was by those words and how my self-esteem dropped like an atomic bomb on my heart and soul. As a matter of fact, I entertained thoughts of suicide, thinking everybody was better off without me around them. I thank god I never fulfilled such thoughts and am around today, stronger than ever with a much higher self-esteem at my side.
Now, today, I look back on those years and wish I had the wit and wisdom that I have now. But, then again, thinking about it, I don't. I have to learn to walk before I can run. I guess learning to take those two words more as a gentle blow than a sucker punch was a slow process. Live and learn, right? God knows I've learned!
To those who read this, I impart on you the following words: Treat Me Right, I Treat You Right. Treat Me Wrong, You Know What Part Of You Goes First. In other words, read the first paragraph above repeatedly until you've learned your lesson.
Sounds like Mr. Miyagi in "Karate Kid 2" when he showed Daniel-San inside the Miyagi Family Dojo and showed him the rules for Karate.
Whenever I think on the subject of Karma, I look back on my past and I learn from the people in it. For example, I looked back on my high school years and thought on the guys who I thought liked me, but in truth were just teasing me while pretending to like me. There was one boy, Jeff, who was a star on the football team. Blonde hair, blue eyes, everything a girl would want and melt over. He would wolf whistle at me and smile at me, treat me like a gem. But, one day, he showed his true colors with two words: Ugly girl. OUCH!
You can imagine how utterly "destroyed" I was by those words and how my self-esteem dropped like an atomic bomb on my heart and soul. As a matter of fact, I entertained thoughts of suicide, thinking everybody was better off without me around them. I thank god I never fulfilled such thoughts and am around today, stronger than ever with a much higher self-esteem at my side.
Now, today, I look back on those years and wish I had the wit and wisdom that I have now. But, then again, thinking about it, I don't. I have to learn to walk before I can run. I guess learning to take those two words more as a gentle blow than a sucker punch was a slow process. Live and learn, right? God knows I've learned!
To those who read this, I impart on you the following words: Treat Me Right, I Treat You Right. Treat Me Wrong, You Know What Part Of You Goes First. In other words, read the first paragraph above repeatedly until you've learned your lesson.
Sounds like Mr. Miyagi in "Karate Kid 2" when he showed Daniel-San inside the Miyagi Family Dojo and showed him the rules for Karate.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Old School Jersey Girl: The Last of a Dying Breed (Part Two)
As I mentioned earlier, I am of Italian-American descent with a mix of Greek, Polish and Russian Jewish. So, therefore, I can Eat, Drink, Forget, Drink More and Nag, but I sure can cook. I am very proud of my heritage. How proud? I got it tattooed on my ankle.
I enjoyed being raised in an Italian-American household and in New Jersey, which is even better. What makes it the best is that I grew up in Bayonne, which is a small town about 10 to 15 minutes outside of New York City. It gets even more better. My house, 43 East 51st Street, is situated at the very beginning of the 14A exit of the New Jersey Turnpike.
I honestly loved those early formative years of my growing life. I loved going down to Wildwood Crest to the Pyramid Motel with my grandparents. I loved how they left me over night in the hotel room with my mom in order to go up to Atlantic City to gamble whatever little money they had. I still treasure that picture of me and my grandfather in the surf at the beach and how he would try to get me to ride the Haunted Castle with the fake red blood river. Thank god that's long gone.
Although I didn't appreciate it then, I appreciate now whatever disciplinary method they initiated at the time. But, in this case, it all depended on who was dealing out the punishment. For example, if I got out of line with my grandmother, I got a wooden spoon swiftly dealt across my ass cheeks. If it were my grandfather, a sturdy leather belt passed down to him from his father. If it was my mother, it was a high-heeled shoe flying across the room at 88 mph. Thus sending me "Back to the Future" efficiently. Yeah, there were days when she'd hit me with her shoe that I remember fond memories of being in the womb. If it were my uncle, it was a bong. Ohh, now here's a story! But that's for the next blog.
This is what an Old School Jersey Girl is composed of. She's tough, but tough enough not to land on the Six O'Clock news for killing her kid because he wouldn't eat the last two pieces of broccoli on his plate. She's determined and can do anything she sets her mind to. She never takes any bullshit no matter who it comes from. Lastly, she never has to pump gas. I, myself, am a rare breed. I grew up in a gas station and my grandfather taught me how to pump gas at the age of 4. So whenever I am in a state where I had to pump my own gas, I never freak out and squirm. I just flip it, open it up, charge my card, pump it, CLICK AND GO! Simple!
I think guys are intimidated by someone like me because of the following reasons. To this, I just say "Hey, I'm only human, but I grew up in New Jersey so, therefore, I'm radioactive." Fair enough?
I enjoyed being raised in an Italian-American household and in New Jersey, which is even better. What makes it the best is that I grew up in Bayonne, which is a small town about 10 to 15 minutes outside of New York City. It gets even more better. My house, 43 East 51st Street, is situated at the very beginning of the 14A exit of the New Jersey Turnpike.
I honestly loved those early formative years of my growing life. I loved going down to Wildwood Crest to the Pyramid Motel with my grandparents. I loved how they left me over night in the hotel room with my mom in order to go up to Atlantic City to gamble whatever little money they had. I still treasure that picture of me and my grandfather in the surf at the beach and how he would try to get me to ride the Haunted Castle with the fake red blood river. Thank god that's long gone.
Although I didn't appreciate it then, I appreciate now whatever disciplinary method they initiated at the time. But, in this case, it all depended on who was dealing out the punishment. For example, if I got out of line with my grandmother, I got a wooden spoon swiftly dealt across my ass cheeks. If it were my grandfather, a sturdy leather belt passed down to him from his father. If it was my mother, it was a high-heeled shoe flying across the room at 88 mph. Thus sending me "Back to the Future" efficiently. Yeah, there were days when she'd hit me with her shoe that I remember fond memories of being in the womb. If it were my uncle, it was a bong. Ohh, now here's a story! But that's for the next blog.
This is what an Old School Jersey Girl is composed of. She's tough, but tough enough not to land on the Six O'Clock news for killing her kid because he wouldn't eat the last two pieces of broccoli on his plate. She's determined and can do anything she sets her mind to. She never takes any bullshit no matter who it comes from. Lastly, she never has to pump gas. I, myself, am a rare breed. I grew up in a gas station and my grandfather taught me how to pump gas at the age of 4. So whenever I am in a state where I had to pump my own gas, I never freak out and squirm. I just flip it, open it up, charge my card, pump it, CLICK AND GO! Simple!
I think guys are intimidated by someone like me because of the following reasons. To this, I just say "Hey, I'm only human, but I grew up in New Jersey so, therefore, I'm radioactive." Fair enough?
Friday, February 3, 2012
Old School Jersey Girl: The Last of a Dying Breed (Part One)
I was born and bred in New Jersey, as most of you already know. But, I am not that kind of Jersey Girl. When I mean by "that kind," I mean THAT kind. I am not like what you see on shows like "Jersey Shore and "Jerseylicious" Nope, not like that at all! I don't wear mini-dresses that show off my cooch when I fall down drunk. I am not a fan of spray tans. I don't put on pounds and pounds of make up. I also do not get into random, catty, drunken fist fights.
My appearance is normal. I wear a dress to special occasions and when I fall down drunk I keep my cooch as heavily covered as possible. I did, at one point, enjoy tanning beds until I was forewarned to discontinue going. I got a "Free Session" for a spray tan, but I saw the results beforehand and was, quite frankly, horrified. This girl, god bless her, had a gorgeous body. But she was a green wig away from resembling an Oompa Loompa. I wear make up in moderation, bare minimum being just lipstick. When I get drunk, I sing. I don't turn to some random chick and accuse her of sleeping with my man. Nor do I have the urge to stick my tongue in her mouth nor dry hump her. Yeah, I caught an episode of "Jersey Shore."
To me, "Jersey Shore" is like a horrible car wreck on the highway: You don't want to look as you're passing through, but you're tempted to do so. Shows like this make people like me who ARE from New Jersey want to vomit. It also makes me want to throw stones at the MTV and other networks for degrading my home state with this TRASH. This isn't real at all about us Jersey Girls!
Someone needs to deliver a message to these networks and tell them to stop coming up with shows that just further degrade, humiliate and mortify the good citizens of New Jersey, especially to those of Italian-American descent. Did you ever notice that? Most of these crackpots are either of Italian or Hispanic descent! Snooki, believe it or not, is not Italian BY BIRTH! She may be Italian BY NAME, but not biologically! MTV, can you please do me a favor, in addition to discontinuing degrading my state, can you stop dragging down my heritage as well?! Think you can do that, huh?! I can understand appealing to young people, but this has gone way too far.
My appearance is normal. I wear a dress to special occasions and when I fall down drunk I keep my cooch as heavily covered as possible. I did, at one point, enjoy tanning beds until I was forewarned to discontinue going. I got a "Free Session" for a spray tan, but I saw the results beforehand and was, quite frankly, horrified. This girl, god bless her, had a gorgeous body. But she was a green wig away from resembling an Oompa Loompa. I wear make up in moderation, bare minimum being just lipstick. When I get drunk, I sing. I don't turn to some random chick and accuse her of sleeping with my man. Nor do I have the urge to stick my tongue in her mouth nor dry hump her. Yeah, I caught an episode of "Jersey Shore."
To me, "Jersey Shore" is like a horrible car wreck on the highway: You don't want to look as you're passing through, but you're tempted to do so. Shows like this make people like me who ARE from New Jersey want to vomit. It also makes me want to throw stones at the MTV and other networks for degrading my home state with this TRASH. This isn't real at all about us Jersey Girls!
Someone needs to deliver a message to these networks and tell them to stop coming up with shows that just further degrade, humiliate and mortify the good citizens of New Jersey, especially to those of Italian-American descent. Did you ever notice that? Most of these crackpots are either of Italian or Hispanic descent! Snooki, believe it or not, is not Italian BY BIRTH! She may be Italian BY NAME, but not biologically! MTV, can you please do me a favor, in addition to discontinuing degrading my state, can you stop dragging down my heritage as well?! Think you can do that, huh?! I can understand appealing to young people, but this has gone way too far.
Sunflower Seeds: The Spitting Truth
I am trying like a mad woman to curtail my candy-eating ways. I’ve cut down quite significantly on my intake of sugars and I’m proud of this. However, the hunt for some healthier snacks has been…how can I put it? Oh, yeah! It’s been a real bitch! I tried to get into the Special K bars, but they lost their appeal after a week. I tried the Clif Bar with no such luck. Olives went straight to my ass. But then, whilst perusing the shelves at BJ’s Wholesale that I found my answer: David Sunflower Seeds.
YES! YES YES YES YES YES!!! DAVID SUNFLOWER SEEDS!
David Sunflower Seeds: The Official Snack of Baseball and Softball!
Not that this was a new discovery for me, but I can recall sometime in my childhood my grandparents, in between cigarettes, eating this during baseball games in front of the television. We’re Mets fans, if you wish to inquire. They would get a really big bag of Sunflower seeds, chomp on them and spit them into the half full ashtray in front of me. Now I found this to be extremely gross for a reason. Imagine two tobacco-addicted people spewing out remnants of sunflower seeds intermingled with ‘backey juice into a perfect crystal cigarette holder. Thanks for the tea and sympathy on that lovely visual, gross as it will forever be. This visual is the exact reason why I will never put a cigarette anywhere near my mouth. That and the hole in my grandfather’s throat from when they took out his voice box. But I digress…
For nutritional purposes, I looked up as to why these were the go to snacks for baseball and softball. First off, it’s a great substitute from the original chewing of Tobacco or “Chaw,” which I feel the MLB should ban outright from players using it. Second, it looks so much better when properly disposed of. Would you prefer to look at Jackson Pollock-esque speckles of ecru and black or something that looks like a piece of dog shit sitting on the ground? Your choice? Thirdly, Sunflower Seeds provide WAY more vitamins and nutrients than tobacco ever could. Here’s the comparison:
SUNFLOWER SEEDS: Vitamin E, Magnesium, Fiber, Protein, Folic Acid, Iron, Copper, Zinc and Phosphorus.
CHEWING TOBACCO: Vitamin K
You see that? Sunflower Seeds have many more health benefits than chewing tobacco. Take a look! Nine versus One! You can say that the bout between the two is a clean cut TKO by Sunflower Seeds. To those of you out there who smoke, put the Marlboros down and get yourself a bag of Sunflower Seeds. They taste a lot better and your boyfriend or girlfriend won’t ever mind kissing you afterwards. I would much rather kiss a man who had Ranch-flavored lips rather than the tobacco fields of Antebellum Virginia.
In the recent weeks, I have found myself stocking up on Sunflower Seeds by the pound. If you’re in BJ’S Wholesale, they sell them in large buckets. And think about this: If you’re having any anger management issues, these are a blessing. Anytime you find yourself getting pissed off with something or someone, grab yourself a handful of Sunflower Seeds and deposit directly into your mouth.
“Why you motherfu…CHEW CHEW CHEW! SPIT SPIT SPIT! Yeah, you’re right! This sculpture doesn’t go with the rest of the room. Let’s move it.”
Trust me, it works! I eat Sunflower Seeds when I get angry and minutes later I forget what I was angry about. And the spitting part is the fun part. Sometimes when I get mad, I want to spit nails. I find that Sunflower Seeds are much less lethal, easy to clean up and much easier to get off AND out of the wall.
Sunflower Seeds also make great confetti at weddings, bar/bat mitzvahs and New Year’s Eve. They are beneficial to the earth and the environment and also help to feed the birds and a starving blushing bride. At my wedding, I am substituting rice for Sunflower Seeds. Hey! I’ve been primped, prepped, primed and had to sign a pre-nup. I am entitled to a snack after the nuptials, god damn it! And the pigeons are hungry too!
So think about it. Next time you’re in line at the market and you find yourself tempted to reach for that Milky Way bar, stop and look up. The Sunflower Seeds as well as the Peanuts and Pumpkin Seeds are hovering right over them. Then again, they are also sitting next to the condoms and KY Jelly, which is why I think most people are deterred to the candy bars at the checkout line. Conspiracy theory in the works here! We are eating unhealthy due in part to the healthy stuff sitting next to stuff you don’t want on or near it. So your best bet is to go into the Chips and Salsa aisle and grab it there. That’s your safest bet, especially if you’re allergic to laytex or synthetic lubricant.
So, to this I say what the David Sunflower Seeds say right on the bag: Eat, Spit and Be Merry!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Dying Young
Today at work, I was reading the news and what I read broke my heart.
As a teenager, I was in love with the Backstreet Boys. When I mean in love, I mean IN LOVE! My first celebrity crush. Although I had it bad for Kevin Richardson, I had a bit of a stirring for all of them. But, I found the following: Brian was way out of my league. Howie was as well. AJ beat my ass in the tattoo department. Nick was too cute for me. Kevin got married. Oh well.
So, I moved on and grew up.
But today, I read that Nick Carter's sister, Leslie, had been found dead. The cause not yet known. I sat there staring at the report with my mouth open and my heart breaking for Nick and his family.
And it got me to thinking about things from the past. Back to those days before the dark side of fame took hold and claimed Nick and members of his family. Back before the tabloids made a circus act out of them. The way they were one unit, happy and smiling on their waterfront property. They were one big, happy family.
Tonight, as I write this, I hope that Nick, his mom, dad, brother and sisters do that once more in memory of their angel, their Leslie. I wish for them to put all their differences, problems and troubles to the side at this time and to be that family I once saw: A United Front. I know they can do this. I pray for them to be as one rather than separate entities.
Leslie, you will be missed and you will always, ALWAYS be loved by not just your family, husband and baby, but by all of us Backstreet Boys fans, including me. Now, I dedicate this song to you, sweet Leslie.
As a teenager, I was in love with the Backstreet Boys. When I mean in love, I mean IN LOVE! My first celebrity crush. Although I had it bad for Kevin Richardson, I had a bit of a stirring for all of them. But, I found the following: Brian was way out of my league. Howie was as well. AJ beat my ass in the tattoo department. Nick was too cute for me. Kevin got married. Oh well.
So, I moved on and grew up.
But today, I read that Nick Carter's sister, Leslie, had been found dead. The cause not yet known. I sat there staring at the report with my mouth open and my heart breaking for Nick and his family.
And it got me to thinking about things from the past. Back to those days before the dark side of fame took hold and claimed Nick and members of his family. Back before the tabloids made a circus act out of them. The way they were one unit, happy and smiling on their waterfront property. They were one big, happy family.
Tonight, as I write this, I hope that Nick, his mom, dad, brother and sisters do that once more in memory of their angel, their Leslie. I wish for them to put all their differences, problems and troubles to the side at this time and to be that family I once saw: A United Front. I know they can do this. I pray for them to be as one rather than separate entities.
Leslie, you will be missed and you will always, ALWAYS be loved by not just your family, husband and baby, but by all of us Backstreet Boys fans, including me. Now, I dedicate this song to you, sweet Leslie.
RIP Leslie Carter
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