Boink Buddies

I heard a story from a friend who heard it from a friend who heard it from another friend- and I know you get the drift here. Anyway, my friend told me about this friend of ours, (we used to work with her), a woman, who if I had to estimate, is somewhere in her 60's. Said woman is cute, short and tiny with a cute little figure, but if I'm telling the truth, she looks her age. Not that looking her age is a bad thing, just an important detail to the context of the story. As I stated, said woman had a nice figure, but has no surgically enhanced details, you know, like huge, fake boobs or has had any work done on her face. Nothing that would be considered super sexy. She is your average looking sixty year-old woman. She is a widow-lost her husband many years ago and lives alone, as her children have all grown and married and has two beautiful grandchildren.

My friend told me that said woman is banging a hot, forty year-old body builder, and has been regularly for about ten years. They meet once a week, strictly for sex and then go home at the completion of the sex act. There is no pre or post-coital dinner's, it's strictly business. The body builder has a serious girl friend who he lives with, but still manages to sneak in his weekly sexual trysts with this woman. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I try not to be judgemental but I think I was most shocked at the deviance of affair. I call it an affair because the guy is "seemingly" in a committed relationship. If I'm being completely honest here, I was also shocked by the fact that this woman is banging a "hot", young, piece of man. Shame on me because who the hell knows what attracts one human being to another.

The more I thought about the story, the more I began to realize that this woman just may be my new hero. As I said, we used to work with her and she never once told us about her boink buddy. She never bragged about her boink buddy. She never mentioned it, and there was plenty of opportunity for her to do so. The subject of sex came up frequently amongst the women, especially at the lunch table. And she could have-you wouldn't believe some of the stuff women will share when a group of ladies are talking about sex. I thought about her life and wondered if this was the ideal situation for her. She gets her needs met, no games, strictly regular business, and can go home to her life. I doubt that she has any delusions of romance with this guy, and if it is true that this has been going on for ten years, then it's possible that these two have worked out a perfect arrangement that suits them.

I still think the guy is a complete douchebag for cheating on his "girlfriend" and something tells me that the dude must get off on the fact that he's banging a older woman on the sly, but again, I'm not judging HER as one would assume that she is mature enough to know exactly what she is doing with this tool. To each his own, but somehow, I feel caught up in a complete double standard. I have a new found respect for this woman yet I feel complete disdain for the guy. How can this be?? I guess the only thing that is "wrong" with this picture is the fact that they are both cheating on an innocent party, but if I remove that emotion from the equation, I am left with the logic that being boink buddies seems to work just fine for them/her. Who am I to judge?

I guess I have to say good for her! I mean, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to decipher this equation and deduce that there will be no romantic, story book ending here. No riding off into the sunset of love with her Prince of Boink, but is that what their boink buddy relationship was based on? It would seem to me that these two have figured out a mature, consenting arrangement that is beneficial to both parties, more like a business deal. There is no buddy-buddy involved here, it is strictly boinking as usual.

Today's Special: MAC Dazzleglass

Sorry fellas, this one for the ladies.

I was out this weekend trolling the mall with no particular goal in mind, sort of looking for an excuse to spend my money, when I came across these beauties. MAC Dazzleglass lip glosses are quite possibly the funnest lip product I have seen in a long time. Being the complete product junkie that I am, and a girly girl to boot, the dazzle of this product immediately caught my eye and I practically ran over to check out these pretty little glosses. I was not disappointed.

Launched on MAC counters in 2008, I am a bit late coming to this party, but that didn't stop me from purchasing 5 different colors and contemplating snatching up more at a later date. The combination of color infused with a sparkly, sexy, pearly, super-shine leaves the lips with a creamy, glistening kiss of color and just a hint of a yummy vanilla scent. There are 18 gorgeous colors to choose from and I think one would be hard pressed to find a shade that did not work for them. These glosses are perfect to wear alone, with a liner or over your favorite lipstick to give your lips a hard to resist dazzle.

The only problem I can see with Dazzleglass is deciding on the color!!! The MAC website lists 24 wonderful colors to chooses from at $18.00 each, but the pictures do not do the product justice, as one needs to see it to believe it. I bought the following:

Stepping Out: a yellow pink with red pearl. (looks like a natural pink-the red is in the sparkle)

Extra Amps: a sheer bright blue pink with pink and blue pearl (looks like a light, opalescent pink-a great color to layer over a darker lip color)

Euro Beat: a peachy coral with gold pearl. (This looks great alone or with a nude liner for a natural, but sexy look)

Roman Holiday: a caramel with blue and purple pearl. (Sounds weird? This is possibly my fave. The combination of color gives it a soft, rose colored tone)

Funtabulous: a screaming magenta with violet pearl. (This reminds me of my eighties throw back lip gloss. Worn alone, it is just a hint of pretty color, but paired with a fuschia liner or lipstick and you are transformed to the days of neon brites and shoulder pads?. How could I resist?)

So if you are looking to add some dazzle to your everyday life, this product was designed for you. If you love gloss, you won't be disappointed.

Michael Has Left The Building

Michael Jackson has left the building for good.

In what would seem to be a very sad ending for a supremely sad man, Michael Jackson will entertain no more.

Regardless of your opinion of him as a human being, you cannot deny The King of Pop's influence on the music of the eighties. When I think about Michael Jackson and his music I can literally map out my adolescence using his music as the soundtrack. Today I will remember the Michael I loved, the Man in the Mirror.

I was 13 years old and at my friends house after school when we saw "the moonwalk". Taped at the Apollo theatre for the Anniversary of Motown, Michael shocked the world when it appeared he could defy gravity. It was exciting. It was special, and when you watched Michael perform this never before seen dance move, you knew you were witnessing greatness.

I was a sophomore in high school, a kid of the MTV video generation, and my brother and I watched in awe as the greatest ever, Thriller music video played out on out living room TV. It was a rare bonding moment for my brother and I, and I still have my red leather jacket, just like Michael's.

Beat It, and the choreography from the video dominated my dance classes. For a brief time, a young girl dreamed of becoming a dancer in Hollywood or a Michael Jackson video. While Michael was King, the possibilities for a career as a dancer were real.

Off The Wall, which I consider to be one of his greatest albums ever, has countless hits that trigger memories of parties I attended and boys I danced with or kissed. Michael Rocked with us All Night.

The Jackson 5's A B C made a little girl Shake Her Body Down To The Ground and feel the joy of their special, soulful sound. It was then that I realized I had the music in me.

There were countless times when I loved Michael Jackson. There were countless times that I hated Michael Jackson. There were times that I was embarassed by him, yet intrigued by his bizarre life. I was never NOT interested with him and today I am sad that he has been taken so soon.

I will always remember him, and when I hear his music, I will dance. And I Won't Stop Until I Get Enough.

The A,B and C Cups Of Marketing During A Recession

Budweiser, hit hard by the recent recession, reaches out to target a new demographic.



What other reasonable explanation could there be?

What's Real?

These are The Real Housewives of New Jersey from the show that airs on Bravo.

Are these ladies for real?

Who watches this show?

I have to admit to never watching one episode, until Sunday. Saturday night my brother was talking to my niece about the now infamous "table flip". I thought nothing of it, as I thought they sounded completely ridonk.

I was correct.

On Sunday, I happened to catch this table flipping episode and watched it out of complete curiosity. I couldn't believe the crap I was seeing. I will repeat, are these ladies for real?

While it was incredible enough to be witness to the staged drama of an episode entitled, "The Last Supper," what happened after was even more incredible. You really have to see this for yourself, as it falls under the "watching a train wreck" category.

It would seem that for an entire season, the tart in the short black dress, Danielle, 46, was the social pariah from the get go. Again, I only viewed one episode, but based on the press this show has gotten recently and the events in the "last supper" episode leading up to the table flip, Danielle was the outcast with a storied past. The story is in a book entitled, "Cop Without A Badge". The book was written by Danielle's ex husband and alleges, amongst other things, that 25 years ago, she was known by another name, was a stripper with a criminal past, and was arrested for kidnapping, extortion and possession. From what I gather, the rest of the Housewives were tipped off about this book long ago and had a field day, dragging it all over the affluent New Jersey community in witch they live.

Do you smell a set-up? I find it hard to believe that the execs at Bravo did not DELIGHT in the ratings smorgasbord they had in front of them and they played it out to perfection, using the trashtastic Jersey cast as their pawns. From what I can gather thus far, the cast is made up of 5 women, three of whom are related. The matriarch, Caroline, the red head, and her baby sister Dina, the only blond, and Jaqueline, the long-haired beauty in the pink dress. Jaqueline is Caroline and Dina's sister-in-law and married to their brother. Danielle and Jaqueline are friends and I have no idea who the hell Teresa is, or how she fits into the show, beside the fact that she lives in the UGLIEST mini-mansion I have ever seen and drives a kick-ass silver Mazerati.

Back to the point. After the "table flip", in which Teresa, depicted as the "Mother Theresa" of the cast, completely wigs out and flips the table during Danielle's self-imposed confrontation with the cast over the book at a filmed dinner with their children present, they all decide to retire to the restaurant's bar area and have champagne, TOGETHER. I couldn't believe it. After what had just gone on in the dining room, they all stayed and retreated to the bar for some cozy champagne celebrating for the cameras.

They was plenty to celebrate. They had just successfully pulled off the greatest Housewives finale in history and they knew it. How much of this crap is Real? I believe that the hatred that these despicable human beings showed towards one another is genuine, but that's about all I believe. I think Bravo lit the fire under these loud-mouthed, over entitled, disgraceful, over bearing women in the beginning of the season, then stirred the kettle to a boil quite nicely, right until the end of filming. They performed a service to the creators of the show and each party got what they wanted out of the deal. Bravo got ratings and the women got fame. These ladies have nothing on any of the other Housewives, and will rightly take their place on the Bravo "throne of disgrace".

The most interesting part of all this is that these women attempt to spew virtue, in their show testimonials, about family values and love, but really they are vile human beings who will profit greatly from behaving badly.

To that, I do not say BRAVO.

Im F*cked!

"No more pencils

No more books

No more teacher's dirty looks

School's out forever
School's out for summer

School's out with fever

School's out completely"

From Alice Cooper's , "School's out for the Summer "

Today's the day! Yahoo, my kids will say.

Sleeping late and being lazy.

Oh my goodness! Let's drive mom crazy.

Mom, I ain't reading. Mom, I ain't writing.

Mom, in this summer break, I am delighting.

Would you look away from my mess on the floor?

I'm on vacation, and could you please shut my door?

The freedom is limitless, the possibilities, no end.

Mom, can you spare a few 20's to spend?

A job, this summer? Surely, you jest.

For it's your money spending, that I do the best.

Drive me here, then pick me up too.

And make it snappy, cuz I got things to do.

Yes, mom I'll read and write this summer, on that you can rely.

Texting meets all those requirements, so I'll keep a steady supply.

Can I go to the beach?

I'm going to the mall.

We are just at Dana's house.

Do I really have to call?

Golf is life, so get me to the course on time.

Drop me off here, mom really, I'm fine.

I'll spend the day getting my game on track,

then I'll call you when I'm done...(Now get off my back).

Empty coke cans litter the once clean family room.

Dirty dishes in the sink and the cups, they are strewn.

Filthy socks on the floor, next to towels still wet.

Yes, mom I'll pick it up, but I haven't just yet.

The mall, some cash, eighteen holes and a cart.

The fleecing of mom and her guy, we've got down to an art.

Enjoying the freedom, just being a kid.

How can we blame them? It's just what we did.

I don't begrudge them the freedom. I'm glad they, from school, have a break.

I'm just kind of worried about how much of them I can take.

"I want to be lazy" they exlaimed, citing the hard work in school which they said really sucked.

So you can see, like I said, Holy s*it, now I'm f*ucked!

The Sweet Smell Of Success

Can you smell it?

Yes, that heavenly scent is the sweet smell of a sucessful plan brought to fruition. My mom's rockin' birthday bash was a HUGE success-and even that's an understatement. Today please allow me to bore you with the details and then I promise to never bring it up again. So indulge me for this one day because we are still on a high.

We soooo got her.

We rented a luxury bus, and all of my moms kids and grandkids were stowed away on the bus to whisk us away for the suprise evening. The plan or "ruse" was for me and My Guy and my dad to take her out to dinner to her favorite restaurant, but really we were all going to another fabulous restaurant where my big brother had expertly arranged everything. We had our own private room and a private menu for the occassion. We had to be at the restaurant early-because my brother had arranged another surprise-we were leaving after dinner to go to the Improv Asylum in Boston where my mom was to be featured as part of the show. But before I get to that-we had to figure out a way to get my mom on the bus for the suprise.

We get to my mom's house early and my brother texts me to tell me to stall because they weren't there (the bus load) and were running late. So we are talking and having some wine, all the while waiting for them to show. Finally after my dad and I trying to stall and much, "look at my new shrubs out back" I get the text that the bus is here and in position. So me, My Guy, my dad and mom all get into the car in the GARAGE and pull out. The bus was strategically parked in front of the driveway, blocking access. We feign a, "What the hell is this?" kind of thing and my mom tells me to get out and tell the bus to move. The only detail I had left to chance was how I was going to get her out of the car and onto the bus. So I stick my head into the bus and say to my family, "How am I going to get her out of the car?" We decide to tell her that there is some old lady that she knows on the bus and wants to say hi to her, which she buys-and mom gets out of the car and walks up to the bus.

She was flabbergasted! It took her a good five minutes to greet every one, all 26 of us, and soon the champagne was flowing and we were on our way. My mom was so happy!!! It was great! We got the the restaurant about 20 minutes later and mom says, "I don't want to get off the bus, I'm having such a good time", but we tell her there is an entire evening of surprises ahead. In the private room they have set up a video screen for us so that we could play for her a youtube video of the family members that couldn't make it. My mom loved it. Then it was on to the roast.

Now, you all know how nervous I was- I had decided to do a top ten-(thank you Zibsy) entitled, "Top Ten Reasons Why My Mom's A Friggin Rock Star". So we went around the room and everyone stood up and said something to my mom. It was wonderful because everyone said such nice things to mom-everyone going the "you are so wonderful" and "I love you so much"route. Then it was her five kids turn, and I'm thinking here's the roast. Let's just say it was a collective CHOKE on my siblings part, because they either cried and got emotional or made it short and sweet and I mean sweet. I was sweating it out now because my brother, who I told you is quite possibly the funniest guy on the planet, decided he wasn't going to be funny. Since I am the youngest, I was next to last so I stepped up, told my mom that this was supposed to be a roast, and that I not only took my assignment seriously, I decided to "stick the knife in and twist it around a bit".

I slayed it. It was a great moment for me and my family, and I quite literally left them in tears. EVERYBODY loved it! My mom took the list for framing and I got requests from my siblings to forward them the list so that they could do the same. (Thank you bloggers for your suggestions and support) I guess I was just the right man for the job. She also loved the wall portrait, which is already hanging proudly in her bedroom, and I took your suggestion bloggers, and framed the four pictures of us laughing in a separate frame which was possibly her favorite.

Next we were off the comedy show. My mom was called onto the stage for an "interview" which the comics then use for a improv sketch based on the information they garner. She was so funny, quick, sharp and hilarious-that the comic that interviewed her said, after she had returned to her seat. "Rosemary, I have interviewed a lot of people in my years doing this show and you are by FAR-my favorite." He also told her during the interview, "I think I love you." To which she replied, "Honey, you couldn't afford me."

The sketch was uproarious, which featured perfect zingers like when they re-enacted my parents first phone conversation as my mom saying, " Who is this? You sound poor," to the last moment when the comic playing my dad says to the comic playing my mom, "Rosemary, I don't have much, but I can offer you this." Above his head was an enourmous disco ball to which he put his hand under as if it were a diamond ring. We just about died laughing, as even they couldn't help but notice my mother's cache of "bling" proudly displayed that evening.

My mom said it was the greatest night of her life and I have to say that it was one of the greatest nights of mine. All kidding aside, you take away the bling and all the other crap that really means nothing, and you still have one of the greatest human beings to ever inhibit this planet. She has not lost a step-and to this day she is loved and revered by everyone who knows her. It hasn't always been easy for her, but she has survived it all and taught her children well. Every diamond, wish of love, zing thrown in good fun, and declaration of her greatness is well deserved. As the matriarch of our family, there is no question we would be lost without her.

I am still in awe and will be forever grateful that God chose to give her to me.

I'll Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

Today's post is a plea for help from my blogger friends. I guess you could consider it a lazy-ass post, but truth be told, I need some serious help. Saturday night is the night of my mom's big birthday celebration and we have planned to roast my mom. You'd think this would be no problem for a writer, right??? Wrong. I have a MASSIVE case of writer's block and I know nothing about comedy writing.

So here's the thing, my moms is a riot! Loud, boisterous, at times overbearing and tough, but a real sweetie who people just can't help but love. And love my mom they do. As the youngest of the family and the staff writer, I really want to do my mom proud and rib the shit out of her, but I can't seem to get anything down on paper that seems appropriate. Everything I have come up with so far sounds either too tough or too mushy and not at all funny. Is there a formula or a template to follow when roasting your MOM???

My mom has a great sense of humor so anything I say, I'm sure, will be taken in good fun and there are a million topics to discuss. I thought I would start with my mother's cursing habit. Yup, my moms could have a sit down with a gaggle of crass truck drivers and school them all on the fine art of using swear words, then leave them in awe of her greatness. She has even taken to explaining her swearing to a slight case of Tourette Syndrome, (no offense meant) There's her rock-star shopping habits I told you about. I figured I could make a joke about how TJ Maxx is going to retire her credit card number and raise it to the rafters of the store, and how the home shopping network has a hard time paying it's utilities bills when mom is traveling, and how they will call her to check up on her if she hasn't purchased anything for a day.

Then there's all the crap she put us through as kids, and how it was a well known fact amongst the neighborhood kids NOT to mess with my mom or she would cut you down. Cut first, question later. I also learned from my mom that "the thing" was a pronoun. It was always, go upstairs on "my thing" and get "the thing" for me. We knew better than to ask and God forbid we didn't find "the thing". We got the old, "if I have to come up there and find it myself you are in so much trouble". We were doomed before we even started and we knew it. Then there's her diamonds. I cannot tell you how many people know my mom because of her diamonds. Her nick-name at her fave restaurant is "bling" and the ladies at the nail shop know my mom as, "I know you mom. Big diamonds, you mom."

I began this process much like most writers do, by brainstorming. The problem for me is, I just want to be funny. These are all stories that we have told a million times before, so how do I put a nice comedic spin on them and make them fresh again? Have any of you roasted someone before? I need some tips on how to write comedy effectively. The steaks are high here and the pressure is on the writer to deliver. If any of you have any good mother jokes, let's have at em, maybe I can turn them into something that would work for the roast. Or if any of you have delivered a roast to someone special, could you please share your experience with me and what worked for you and what didn't.

I NEED to deliver, or it's my goose that will be roasted.

This Just In.....

Breaking news!



Finally, the answer to that age old question.




It's ramifications so profound,

It could completely change the way we view basic logic.

The answer, a definitive end to constant speculation.





YES!







This could make history!!

Texual Revolution

So the big news around these parts yesterday was that a fast-thinking employee of a bank thwarted a bank heist by text message.

A man dressed in a suit and tie, driving a BMW, pulled up to a bank in Dedham, MA and pretended to be withdrawing money from an ATM just before the bank was opening for business. He forced his way into the bank, armed with a pellet gun and demanded access to the vault. One of the bank employees used her cell phone to text another bank manager at a nearby branch, who then alerted police. Two police officers working less than 100 yards away responded immediately and the thief was arrested.

This is amazing to me. The fact that the employee thought to alert another manager via text is astounding enough, but the fact that the bank employee had her cell phone with her at the time and opted to send a text message instead of dialing 911 is surprising. Couple that with the fact that the text was immediately received and the authorities alerted within minutes, make this a wondrous thing. What does this say about society's love affair with cell phones? It would seem that this is just another example of how having a cell phone with you at all times, for "emergencies", is a good idea.

I have been out of an office atmosphere for a few months now, but I do know that most employers frown upon employees having their cell phone with them during business hours. Yet-employees do it anyway. Most of us unable to part from our ever important cellular device-the outside connection to our own little world. My children have had cell phones for a few years now and on days like today, I question whether or not I should continue to chide them for their dependency on text use.

Here's the thing, what if the other bank manager didn't have his/her cell phone at the time the robbery was taking place? The employee at the bank where the robbery was taking place made a conscious decision to alert the danger via text instead of using 911. Did she take a chance on whether or not the other manager would receive the important alert? I think not. This tells me that she knew that the other bank manager would be sure to receive the text and that help would be on the way. If I were a betting man I would bet the farm that if phone records were checked, they would confirm that these two employees had been engaging in a text conversation prior to the robbery. This is by no means an accusation of wrong doing, just a statement of fact that illustrates society's texual revolution.

Interestingly enough, ABC News reported last night, (unrelated to the bank heist), that over three trillion text messages were sent last year alone. The Senate is questioning the phone companies over their overwhelming profits on text messaging. Phone companies charge the user .20 cents to send or receive a text when it costs them 3/10ths of .1 cent to transmit the message. Phone companies are being accused of price gouging by the Senate. The fact is that 600 text messages use just 1 minute of cellular network time, yet we the users, are being charged quadruple for what seems to be our preferred communication of choice. This translates into a virtual gold mine for the cell phone companies.

In light of yesterday's events and the recent uprising in Iran, where people used text messages, mobile devices and outlets like Twitter to have their voices heard and successfully shared information about important issues, solidifies the fact I am going to keep my mouth shut and gratefully pay my own and my children's cell phone bills. My peace of mind is worth it's weight in the phone companies gold.

The Ugly Truth

I was raised to never use the word "ugly" when referring to someones looks. I always believed that if I called someone ugly, even in casual conversation, it come back to haunt me like a contagious disease. I'm not saying I've never used the word, because I have, but usually as an adjective to describe someones actions or a situation gone out of control. As a description of someones physical appearance, I would describe them as simply "unattractive" as a matter of reference. Truth is, I really don't see people as "ugly", as the word itself denotes negativity in actions more than physical appearance. The most beautiful people in the world can still be "ugly", as one's actions speak much louder than the perfect shade of lipstick and a genetically gifted hair-do.

I'm ashamed to admit it (but if I can't confess to you people, who can I confess to) but I used "ugly" this weekend as an adjective to describe how someone looks, which immediately renders me the UGLY one. I can't even explain this one away, citing provocation or a nasty encounter, and now I am doomed. There was no scene. Nothing happened to embarrass or hurt anyone, I just stepped up on the "petty stoop" and stood up there for a while to see how it felt.

My daughter had a show on Friday night and the EX-Ass showed up with his new wife and mother-in-law in tow. I was selling refreshments and tickets, (the mothers of the performers all volunteer), and was one of the first people in the line of sight when walking in. My son was with me, selling refreshments, myself and another mother had ticket sales. At the time, I was helping Frack make change for a $20 when I heard the EX complaining about how I was supposed to reserve tickets for him and how "it figures" that I had not done so. The other mother asked me if I had reserved his tickets somewhere else because there was no envelope bearing his name, when I calmly explained that there was no need to reserve tickets for anyone as there were plenty of tickets availiable for purchase. It was then that I smugly smiled and looked up and saw her.

I had only seen his new wife once or twice, at a golf tournament when she was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses and in the car a few times when they have picked up my son. This was the first time I got a good look at her. God help me, you know what I was thinking. Now if we are going to talk about physical appearance, I need to be fair here and set the stage proplerly.
She's a cute package, from a distance (and as I said that's about the closest I ever got to her) She has a pretty blonde, Jenny McCarthy hair style, is in great physical shape and is seven years younger than I. But like most smoke an mirror shows, the smoke had cleared and I was able to get a good look for the first time, face to face.

Let's just say that the tanning booth she has been abusing, is doing the unsightly long blonde facial hair that covered her entire face not a bit of justice. Nor is the leathery appearance of her sun-burned skin that served to highlight her botched veneers (Mave, they looked sort of "black-ish" at the gum-line. why is that?) The look of intimidation on her face told me that my picture has been successfully painted as the Wicked Witch of the West by my EX-Ass, which was confirmed by her mother not ever making eye contact with me. They went into the theatre and I was left with that nasty adjective that I speak of today, running through my head. I am doomed to hell for even thinking it, let alone saying it, but I couldn't help but feel a certain sense of victory.

For a short time the "petty stoop" felt good, but today I feel like I am the only one who can be described as ugly.

Today Is The Day

Four years ago today I met a great guy. In honor of this great man, I am re-posting this Daily Dandy from October 3, 2008.

The reasons still remain the same.

In honor of tonight's dinner conversation and to see if you do occasionally read my blog, this one's just for you:

Top Ten Reasons Why He's My Guy:

10. He's waaay cute! There are a million more sexy adjectives to describe the way he looks but I will save them for our private discussions.

9. He's a great conversationalist. I am never at a loss for things to talk to him about. And because he loves me he will even engage in girl talk from time to time. Within reason, of course.

8. He gives great advice. I never make a big decision without bouncing it off him first. He is so smart and nine out of ten times he calls it correctly. Which can also be annoying because he's aware that he has a winning percentage. He does the math.

7. He has a Porsche and I drive it more than he does. Enough said.

6. He's a sports fan. A pre-requisite for my guy. Although he hates it when we get into a lively debate about sports and occasionally I end up being right. He also knows I love Tom Brady and he's OK with it. Sort of.

5. He is generous. With his time, his love, his possessions, his wisdom and his life. My children and I are so lucky to have found him.

4. He loves my children unconditionally. Even when they are hard to love, he makes his point firmly while trying to show them that there is a better way. Most of the time they get it, but sometimes they don't and he doesn't give up. He offers them solutions so that they can make better choices.

3. He is tolerant. It hasn't been an easy road and he has been beside me every step of the way and sometimes he has carried me.

2. He has integrity and he is honest. I couldn't ask for a better role model for my children.

And the number one reason Why He's My Guy:

1. The love, friendship, companionship and life he shares with me make me a better woman.

I love you!!

Happy Aniversary.

Carny Knowledge

I had the worst dream last night about Carnies. It was pretty scary because I was lost, completely petrified by the freaks, and I couldn't find my kids. And make no mistake, there were tons of freaks! It seemed every where I turned there was one freak worse than the last one, laughing at me, tormenting me. I think I know how Alice felt when she fell down that rabbit hole.

Even stranger was throughout my dream, Thin Lizzy's, "The Boys Are Back In Town" was the running soundtrack and it seemed to be getting louder and louder, the more anxious I got. Somehow I lost my kids. We were all on go-karts, having a great time and when the ride was over my kids were nowhere to be found. Complete panic ensued, and I searched for what seemed like an eternity for them, confronted by one dirty, toothless, carnie freak after another and I knew I couldn't, and most certianly wouldn't leave without them. I woke before I found them, relieved to be safe at home.

Horrible.

What does this dream mean? This morning I did a little research on dreams about carnivals.

This is from the Predictions Dream Dictionary:

As settings for dreams, these are ambiguous places. It seems as though amusement parks often include elements that we consider to be the best and worst in life.

Carnivals also include a very wonderful or frightening collection of personalities. These personalities may intimidate us at times.

Sometimes the fright comes from a figure we love, such as a parent who doesn't really enjoy the carnival, but endures it for the children.

Eventually, the illusion of the idyllic family outing is transformed to an angry scene. Who are you with in the carnival and how do you experience the time there?

In what way are the rides metaphors for your life? In other words, how is your life like a rollercoaster, merry-go-round, or other central feature of the park?

The more I think about it the less I want to know.
Is it possible that this mom is having a hard time with the ducklings growing up?
Maybe I see the "carnies" as a metaphor for what is cruel in the world and my uncertianty about letting go. Who the hell knows why we dream what we dream, but I do know this:

This is one ride that I want to get the hell off of.

Was It A Pick Or A Scratch?

Well?

Looks to me there is no denying it, that is a pick if I ever saw one. There is a purpose behind that action and there's no "spin" to put on this move. A pick, undeniably. Could this be the reason for the failed presidential bid? Were voters haunted by this image inside the booth? Sorry Hillary, this can't be good for business. Now do us all a favor and don't get caught doing this over at French President Nicolas Sarkozy's table. They already think we are a bunch of vile Americans. We don't need you stirring the pot. And Hill, try and use a tissue next time, please.

Oh my!!

Elizabeth, I am astounded! That is a pick, my dear. A full on, engaged in combat, digging for gold, pick. Tsk, Tsk. For such a private woman, you certainly chose a strange time to "get real" with your subjects. How bad could it have been? It's possible you dipped into the gin a little too hard this time, because this is a definite breach of protocol. I will give you this, at least you had the decency to use a gloved finger. There may be hope for you yet, Liz.

This is clearly a scratch and perfectly acceptable public behavior for Kate Hudson. Upon close inspection the index finger is on the outer nostril and clearly relieving a topical irritation. No way this could be construed as a pick. Even her body language suggests a casual scratch, with no tension in her expression or her finger. No, there is clearly no motive for her finger to be in the vicinity of her nose except to graze. A scratch, no doubt.

HOLY BATMAN! Michael Keaton is in full on pick mode. The worst part is, he is engaged in this behavior while eating at a restaurant. Did he think no one could see him??? As his body language suggests, he is being somewhat secretive, shielding his move by hunching over and trying to poorly cover it up with his other arm. It's as if he's saying, "Look away, nothing to see here." Unfortunately for you the paparazzi thought differently. Imagine seeing that on the cover of The National Enquirer. You have defiled the good name of The Caped Crusader forever.

This one is too close to call. Because of the angle of the shot, one can't be entirely sure if it's a pick or a scratch. I say, WHO CARES? Jake is pretty much perfect in my book and even this was a flagrant pick, at most, Jake got the camera angle correct.

Although, his expression is tensed and suggests an uncomfortable moment. It's possible whomever he was speaking to on the phone said something unpleasant, hence the expression. His finger could have been snapped in motion while reaching to push his sunglasses up. Yeah, that's what it is! Jake would never pick in public. We hope.

Niki Hilton is engaged most undeniably in a pick. The heiress, a multi-tasker, doesn't have the time to half-ass this task, she needs to get in, get out, and move on to the next task. And the amazing thing is that she can do it all while carrying on a telephone conversation with her agent.

What bothers me here is that I don't see her carrying any hand sanitizer and by the looks of things, she's going to need it. Notice how she closes her eyes while going in for the kill? She has no time for shame because she has a 12:30 lunch date!

A pick or a scratch, celebrity or not, even I was taught that it's bad manners to pick in public. But as luck would have it, most of us aren't followed around by the paparazzi every day.

I'll just quietly get back on my high horse and go back to my life.

You Decide: A Rare Photo Op Of Candy's Dandy Family

Photo 1

My moms birthday is coming up in a few weeks, so two nights ago my brothers and sisters and I got together at my house. We took some pictures to have framed to give to my mom as a gift. We took 45 pictures and we have narrowed it down to three, but of course, we can't decide. It all comes down to the battle of the sexes; the boys vs. the girls.

I'm putting it out there for you all to decide. Please vote for the one you think is the best photograph on the poll on my sidebar and let's see which one wins because I have to get this sucker to the framer, today.

OK, so the photograph above is the one all the girls agree on. We love this photo. We like the way my older brother has his arms around all of us and the fact that everyone looks great. We think this is a no-brainer. BUT my brother, does not like this one. He likes this one:

Photo 2

While we all agree that this is a great photo, we think this one is not as warm or appealing as Photo 1. This one would be great in an 8x10 framed for a table photo, but not in a big 11x17 wall portrait size. The girls think this one is too perfectly spaced, and does not show our personalities as much as Photo 1, but the boys like this one and think that visually this is a better photo. (Do men and women see spacial relations differently??)

Photo 3

This is the third option and it is the one that everyone looks at and says,"You know, I kinda like this one too." After much deliberation we (the girls) decided that this one was too "pose-y", with all of us lined up according to height, but again, it's a shot we keep coming back to. A great candidate for a 8x10 or a 5x7.

Thanks so much for helping us out. Please vote and let's see what happens.
We thought about having them all framed together in one big collage, then unanimously decided we wanted just one shot for a wall portrait. We will most likely frame the runners-up, in 8x10's and we will make an album for mom with the rest of the shots.

A few side notes-
14 year-old Frick took all the shots. Didn't she do a fabulous job??? Props to Frick!!

This was a ton of fun and I highly recommend doing it if you have a special occasion to mark.

It's amazing to me that we got the shots that we did. Since my brother, the one in the white golf shirt, is quite possibly the funniest human being on the planet, there were a whole bunch like this:





These are, for sure, our most favorite!

What Is NORMAL?

That's right. The Insultatron says God has a crush on me. Hold the applause, please. I am more the modest type.

I know what you're thinking though and it's OK really, cuz I was thinking it too. Can you blame him?

The Insultatron is the ever knowing, ever insulting brain-child of my friend Poobomber/or God, as he is now known, over at The Other Side of Normal. Poo is a Seth Rogen-looking genius who never ceases to create a stir in the bloggersphere with his web pedigree. I think he got it right this time, because he may just be God.

Case in point. I got this beauty at his place a few weeks back, and I held on to it so that I could properly introduce you all to Poo. His stuff is da bomb, and his humor is completely uproarious. Back in the day-(last year)-Poo was self-employed and worked from home so he would regale us with two to three posts a day. Then, in the winter he became Dan Dan the Corporate Man and he could post only once a day, but never lost a step. Some of his greatest moments were in parodies of our very own former Commander in Chief-W.

I decided today was the day for Poo over at the Daily Dandy, so I went over there to drop him a line and let him know I still love him (I really do) and I was going to post big love right here today. In PERFECT Poo fashion, PT Barnum got his favorite sucker, yet again. To understand what I'm talking about you need to go HERE. Yes, once again, Poo's geinus cloaked me in gullibility.

Now-since I had already visited Zibsy's site before Poo's-And I was FIRST- you will notice that I had already read Zibsy's post and commented before I linked to the post over at The Other Side Of Normal. Oh the shame of being gullible and manipulated by a master. The funny thing is it took me a good 10 minutes to figure it out!!!

HELLO?

Run along little girl, your mommy is calling you. It's time for just the big kids to play.

Poo/God/Peebs/Dan, I love you.

And really, it's OK if you have a crush on me because I have one on you too.

This Chick Rox!

Meet 33 year-old Justine Siegal, and as far as anyone can tell, she is the first female coach in men's professional baseball. How cool is that???
Justine is the first base coach for the Brockton Rox, an independent minor league baseball team based in Brockton, MA. Siegal, who joined the team last month, was a former pitcher and third baseman who is also married and the mother of an 11 year-old daughter. According to Brockton Rox bench coach, 50 year baseball veteran Ed Nottle, Sunday's Boston Herald reported him as saying, "People have to be given opportunities," he said. "No matter how this turns out, I think this is going to mean a lot to all the young girls out there. For that reason alone I am behind her."

It would also seem that not everyone thinks this is so cool. Some followers of The Rox have been pondering whether Siegal is a real baseball coach or if this is just a publicity stunt. Siegal was hired by Mike Veeck, part owner in the Rox team, who also owns minor shares in six other independent minor league teams. Veeck is the son of the late Bill Veeck, who at one time was the owner of the old St. Louis Browns. Bill Veeck was the architect of one of the most memorable publicity stunts in sports to date. In 1951, while running the St Louis Browns he signed a midget named Eddie Gaedel who went to bat against Detroit Tigers pitcher Bob Cain, drew a walk and then disappeared, never to be seen again.

The Boston Sunday Herald quoted Mike Veek, "She's an experiment," he admitted. "But some- body's gotta be first. That's all there is to it. It's an idea whose time has come." Siegal herself takes the skeptics criticism in stride.
"I certainly understand that it's unusual," she said. "But I consider it an honor to be a pioneer and a role model to both girls and boys."
Siegal played high school ball and summer league ball, but did not play college ball. She had one tryout with a now defunct professional women's baseball team called the Colorado Silver Bullets and told the Herald's Steve Buckley that she "blew out her arm during the tryout". Since then she has provided instruction for both male and female players and coached on an international level. While working on her Ph. D in sports psychology at Springfield College, she also worked as the assistant coach for the baseball team.

She met Veeck while speaking at a conference last summer and told him,"I want to work for you." Veek told her to send him her resume, which she did and he responded immediately. She told Veeck, "I know enough about baseball to coach and I needed a break."
As for the other coaches, they see Justine as they would any other rookie coach; one who needs to work hard and learn the job. Rox Manager Chris Carmucci reoprts to being skeptical about Siegal's contribution to the team, "The biggest thing for me was: would she be able to help us? And she has helped us." he said.

Publicity stunt or not, the move makes Brockton Rox baseball headlines and gives a deserving woman the chance to prove her worth in a male dominated arena. A bold move that may reverberate through the sport of baseball for years to come, but for now I will watch Justine as she takes her first steps into history. Mr. Veeck, thank you. I concur, it is a great idea whose time has come.

This Hurts Me More Than It Hurts You

The story I'm about to tell borders on TMI, but sometimes the most amazing things happen when you don't expect it, and a beautiful rose can grow from under a pile of dog shit. It was one of those nights last night.

Thing is, it was My Guy, not me doing the "teaching". Now for the record, no one got spanked. In this day and age it's simply not an option and I, nor anyone else, has never hit my children in anger or otherwise, but for some reason Frack decided that he was going to test My Guy's limits. This was about DISRESPECT.

The back story is that Frack was disappointed, once again, by his (no good, lying) father and he decided to take it out on us. Long story short- said piece of shit, I mean, father, tells Frack that he cannot pick him up today, Friday-his weekend, because he has a "job interview" and that he had dinner plans with his wife Friday night, knowing full well that this is his weekend, so he would pick him up on Saturday. Frack was disappointed, once again. We have dealt with this before, and more recently, since Frack's dad got married. Since then his commitment to Frack has withered to almost nothing, he goes to almost NONE of his games, and refuses to take Frack to any of his sporting activities when he has him on the weekends, we have been quietly trying to help Frack deal with the disappointment. He is having none of it and continues to be embarrassed and defends his father. It. breaks. my. heart.

I must tell you that My Guy never speaks ill of Frack's dad in front of him (I, on the other hand, will let my frustration show occasionally). My Guy grew up without a father and is extremely sensitive to the issue. So much so, that I can safely say that through the disappointments, Frack and My Guy have become very close. My Guy is not his father, this is a fact he is also extremely sensitive to, but he and I have been the ones who try to pick up the pieces. My Guy has stepped in and taken Frack to all his games, does homework with him, plays catch ouside with him, takes him golfing regularly and is committed to providing for him all of the things needed to enrich his life for the past four years, by choice and out of love.

Last night, Frack decided he was pissed. With complete disrespect, he barked his responses to casual conversation with My Guy on the ride home from Lacrosse. My Guy said nothing, understanding Frack's predicament. He barked at me when I told him to take a shower and finish his homework, again we said nothing. The camel's back breaking straw came when My Guy and I and Frack were talking about our plans for this evening. We told him that since we already had plans to go to a Red Sox game, assuming he would be at his dad's, My Guy had arranged for my dad to take him to the Sox game also, my dad and Frack would be in different seats, but we would all go together.

Frack's response, "I'm not going. I don't want to. Can't I stay home alone?"
My Guy, "No, you can't stay home alone. Since when do you not want to go to a Sox game?"
Frack, "I just don't want to go."
My Guy, "Frack, it's already been arranged. Everybody re-arranged their plans so that you could come with us. What's bothering you?"

Then, I had to go and ruin what was a somewhat productive conversation.
Yup, I got pissed and threw my mother anger out there about how ungrateful he is, and that he never wants to do anything unless he chooses it.
Frack cracked, ran upstairs and slammed the door so hard the entire house shook. My Guy followed him, with me behind him saying, "let him stew in his own anger". When My Guy slammed the door even harder than Frack did, I was up at the top of the stairs in a Milli-second ready to pounce like a mother lion.

But I didn't.

I could hear My Guy saying to my son in a stern, loud voice, "We do everything for you whenever you need it, without question. We take you everywhere, give you what you need and put your needs first and I will not have you disrespect either of us like that ever again. Do you understand?" to which Frack replied, "Yes."
Then he was out of the room in an instant, before I had the chance to pounce, the entire exchange a total of 20 seconds. It took a good 15 minutes of everyone in neutral territory, to sort of soak this in, as My Guy had never put his foot down like that before and I was feeling guilty that I had probably been the catalyst of my son's crack.

My Guy and I left Frack alone and we talked for the next hour about everything. He was right. while it's easy to blame piece of shit father for everything, Frack knows that he has us. He knows we are here, always, unquestionably and we cannot allow him to be ungrateful for all the good things he has in his life. We both agreed that the entire exchange probably hurt us so much more than him and in the long run, he will be a better person for it. Someone had to draw the boundary line.

What happened next was amazing.

Frack woke up, bright eyed, happy, and chatting with My Guy at breakfast about tonite's game. If I had any question in my heart about the ramifications of last night's exchange, they were gone. I think we all learned a valuable lesson about love, commitment and respect.

Today's Special: Look and Find

Let's play a little game today bloggers!!

It's every one's favorite: Look and Find!!

The rule are very simple, just look at the photo below and find the seven hidden items.

Since today's game is rated ED, for Extremely Difficult, I suggest you put on your game face and your thinking caps !!


OK peeps, let's get started!


Are you ready?? Just checking.

Oh yeah, and before I forget, winner gets total bragging rights and I know you want that, don't you???

OK, here we go: GOOD LUCK!!!


Find these seven HIDDEN items in the photo:

1. Marlboro Light Cigarette Butt

2. Marlboro Light Cigarette Butt

3. Marlboro Light Cigarette Butt

4. Marlboro Light Cigarette Butt

5. Marlboro Light Cigarette Butt

6. Marlboro Light Cigarette Butt

7.Marlboro Light Cigarette Butt


(notice the area around keys on the key board where only certain keys have been used and the area around the mouse. This computer had obviously been used recently)

I Love My Wife

Every good woman deserves a good wife and I can unequivocally say that I love my wife. My wife is my cleaning girl, and I refer to her as my wife in the most loving and respectful way possible. She is truly my capable counterpart in this household.

Recently I have begun a new project that hopefully set me on the path of a new career, and it is taking up all of my time. By this time next week I hope to be able to reveal to you my new venture, but for now let's just say I've been busy. Extremely busy. My wife has been filling in for mom quite expertly, as she does it all. She does laundry, makes beds, vacuums, drives the kids if I can't, (which is rare) and takes care of the mutt-ly crew. I do all of the cooking for the family, but yesterday I had an all out, balls to the wall kind of day. I gave my wife a brief tutorial on what I had planned for dinner and what she needed to do, which of course was way too hopeful with what's on my plate right now, and she handled it. Dinner was not only FAB but was on the table, on time.

The thing is, my wife gives me the peace of mind to be able to tackle this new project without guilt. I couldn't focus if I knew that things weren't getting done around the house and the laundry was piling up. THAT would make me crazy and be a sure-fire formula for failure. I have also acquired a new skill that I was never adept in handling before-delegation, and one I will need to master in my future work. It's beginning to work for me, as my wife is a stellar student. She has worked for me for three years, and in those years, I have worked both outside the home and inside the home. I trust her completely and we have a mutual respect for each other and a sixth sense about sensitivity to each other's needs. She was always here for the basics, cleaning and laundry, but in the last few months she has taken on some new tasks and I think she is happier, and busier than she has ever been before.

The same goes for me. I have a calming peace of mind knowing that household chores are something I really don't need to worry about at this time and I can let my creativity blossom with a focus and a direction, because my wife's got it covered.

As I said before, every good woman needs a good wife and I love my wife.

The Great Debate Of John And Kate

I am sure I don't need to tell you who these two people are. Unless you have been living under a rock in the past few months, you've seen and heard about John and Kate Gosselin. They have been America's new tabloid darlings, splashed over every magazine and newspaper in the country.
The question is WHY? Herein lies the debate.

John and Kate welcomed sextuplets over 5 years ago and added to their two child family, making them a family of eight. "John and Kate Plus 8" was born and our voyeuristic TV viewing habits were satiated by viewing the daily lives of this family with eight children. As with every great story, there is a protagonist. Kate, is certainly the main character here. Her husband John and the kids; the bit players in this drama/reality TV show.

The transformation of Kate happened right before our eyes, proof that money and power changes people, and not always for the better. There is the money; which is reported that the Gosselin's receive close to $50K to $75K per episode. At 89 episodes to date, estimates say that's somewhere in the ballpark of 6 million. Nice ballpark. Then there's the freebies; plastic surgery,(tummy tuck for her), hair plugs, products, cars, homes and numerous staff. Put that all together and the world has created it's very own monster, a la Dr. Frankenstein.

I must admit that until last night, I had never watched one episode of their reality TV show. I have however, read plenty about the drama that surrounds John and Kate. WHY? Because I cannot escape it. It's in my morning newspaper, in my mail box every Friday and on my email at least twice a week. I'm talking about US Weekly Magazine. I recently started getting a subscription and in the two months I have received the magazine, (that's 8 issues) Kate has been on the cover of every. single. one. I get e-mail updates from US Weekly and they have all lead with a new titillating detail about Kate and John.

WHY? Is this a story about a hair cut that launched 70 million viewers? Or is this a classic example of "The Britney Factor", as we are watching a train wreck of a marriage implode right before our eyes. Tabloid reports speculate on John's extra-marital exploits with a young teacher and whether or not Kate's banging her handsome body guard. The public can't get enough. She has been accused of being a cold-hearted, bully who is hardly a mother, but extols her skills as a mother daily and John is painted as the lazy, hanger-on who is better with the kids, but visibly unhappy and unmotivated. Then there's the kids. Eight beautiful little souls who will bear the brunt of all this ridiculousness for the rest of their lives, all in the name of the all mighty dollar.

Sometimes I'm not sure if it's OK to invite the press into your life and then complain about the intrusion. One could argue that although the Gosselins have created an opportunity to support and raise their brood of eight fiscally responsibly, as young, attractive adults they have acted irresponsibly and created this tabloid fervor. Others may argue that Kate is a money hungry, evil monster who cares more about keeping her next tanning appointment than worrying about exploiting her kids for profit.

It's a tough debate as long as we keep watching and buying her books. I am sure that pictures of Kate or John with a member of the opposite sex are worth a small fortune on the paparazzi open market. One thing is for sure, this drama has certainly reached a fever pitch and if someone doesn't step in soon, we may be following a blueprint for a tabloid tragedy.

Too bad Jamie Spears is unavailiable.

Quarantined

The Daily Dandy is quarantined.

My baby girl has the flu. Yup, she tested positive for the Influenza A flu yesterday. Funny thing is, she is absolutely fine.

She came home from a sleepover on Sat morning feeling sick. She had a temp of 102.7 and I went into panic overdrive. Her eyes were all red and glassy and she was not feeling good at all. I kept a vigil by her bedside, taking her temp every hour. As the morning progressed, the fever broke and stayed at around 100.3. I wasn't taking any chances. Last week, every elementary school in our town was closed for the entire week because of the percentage of kids out sick with flu-like symptoms. Every school except the high school; her school. Her brother tortured her regularly, as he had a week off and was living it up with his buddies daily. She took exception to his ribbing and quietly hoped for the high school to close.

Be careful what you wish for.

I kept in contact with her doctor by phone and she prescribed Tamiflu for her, which she started taking immediately. By Sunday morning she was fever free and feeling better. The doctor still wanted me to take her in, so that she could be tested for flu. I was almost positive it wasn't flu because she was already feeling better. Much to my surprise, it was the flu. Influenza A.
But was it SWINE???? The doctor told me that the state of MA is no longer testing for swine because of an overwhelming number of cases, and that the strain is a lot less vital than they originally thought. The treatment is the same for both Influenza and swine. The doctor said that chances are it probably is H1N1, because by this time, spring, flu is not usually prevalent.

Great.

She also told me that it is state mandated that the child must stay out of school for 7 full days from the start of the fever and that I must inform the school immediately of my daughter's diagnosis. AND...that all three of us in the home, me, My Guy and my son must begin a preventative course of Tamiflu for the next ten days.

Double Great.

Today my baby is better than good and BORED out of her mind. She has been symptom free for more than 24 hours and I can happily report that she is already driving me nuts. I feel like Carol Brady in that episode when the Brady kids all get sick at the same time and they keep ringing that little bell for food and medicine, but at our house she has no bell. What she has is far worse; a cell phone, and is not shy about using it for one trivial thing or another. And I am thanking God.
I will answer the calls for Gatorade, soup and whatever else she wants as long as she continues to be OK.

We will do our quarantine and be grateful for a mild case of Influenza A.

Whatever it is, I'm not questioning it.