My Boyfriend's Back

This was a fine way to wake up.

My boyfriend's back and you're gonna be in trouble

(Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back)

You see him comin' better cut out on the double

(Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back)

He's been gone for such a long time

(Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back)

Now he's back and things'll be fine

(Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back)

You're gonna be sorry you were ever born

(Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back)

Cause he's kinda big and he's awful strong

(Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back)

All is forgiven.

Safe to say I have a one track mind.

Twisted Mommy Meme

It is a well documented fact that I am not a big fan of the blogger, "meme". Having said that, there are only a few reasons for me to comply with being tagged, one of which is a genuine fondness for the blogger doing the tagging.

Such is the case with The Dental Maven, who tagged me for the Motherhood Meme. In the short time since we have connected, Maven, or Mave, as I call her, has fast become a staple in my blogging routine. Her blog, "Know Your Teeth" is not only genius, but as unique and hilarious as The Maven herself. The topics range from pop culture to daily hygiene issues and always revolve around oral health. It is a certainty that The Dental Maven will make you think as well as make you laugh and her blog is worth a peek, as she has created her own unique spin on niche blogging.

So to comply with this Mommy Meme, I must list 5 things I love about motherhood and tag 5 bloggers to do the same. Since this is The Daily Dandy and I ruin everything by showing no respect for that which is sacred, I decided to instead list five things, tongue in cheek, that I love about being a mother. I know The Mave will forgive me, for I am nothing if not a loose cannon who marches to the beat of my own ipod. So here goes:

1. I love the fact that I can swear like a truck driver at my teens, but the second they utter even a somewhat mild form of profanity, I feign shock and horror at them, immediately punish them, and question the "hoodlums" that they spend their time with.

2. I love that my kids are afraid of me, but at the same time they have no problem crapping all over everything I have taught them. They damn well should be afraid, and if they think for one minute that I am just going to lay down and let them walk all over me, they would be right. I'm too freakin tired.

3. I love the fact that my being their personal ATM is, at times, a two-way street. That's right bloggers, I sometimes jack the kids wallets when I need some cash for the pizza guy or I'm just too lazy to go to the bank that day. And because my kids are always extorting money from me and My Guy, the little cherubs are LOADED; flush with a cash hoard and I know exactly where they hide it. Unfortunately for me I have a screw missing in the "it all comes out in the wash" department and I always fret about returning the cash, so I do. I hope to get over that sooner rather than later.

4. I love that I can read their personal text messages and then expertly LIE to their faces about it. I figure it is my duty as a parent and although we talk a lot about the sanctity of someone's privacy, all bets are off when it comes to teens. I NEED to make sure they are ok and if I break that rule while they are at a vulnerable age, I'm hoping good old St. Peter still may see it in his heart to give me a free pass on that one. "What are you the text police?" is my favorite response. And for some reason they can always tell when I have done it.

5. I love that "Because I said so," is a valid and binding response to any inquiry. "Why can't I have 5 friends sleep over?" Response: "Because I said so."

"Why do I have to finish my homework before I go to the mall?" Again, "Because I said so."

The four most perfect words uttered together in the English language. Of course if it were that easy, I would have them tattooed across my ass and flash them every time they inquired in a whiney tone about one thing or another. Truth is they really mean nothing. In today's world everything is a long, drawn out, emotional negotiation which I usually end up losing anyway.

And I don't think I would have it any other way.

You know the rest people, run like the Dickens with this meme if it suits your fancy.

Many thanks to The Dental Maven for bestowing upon me the Mommy Meme honor, although I twisted it around to suit me.

Sometimes I just a deviant little mother.

Sometimes I Feel Like Doing Just That

Once in a while you get a day that makes you just feel like there is not enough time to do what needs to be done.

Today is just one of those days. Old Bailey has the right idea.

If you ask me, the dogs a genius.

DETOX

I am never eating again.


What is it about holiday's and long weekends that make us think we can just indulge in every food offering that is presented to us? And who in the HELL do I think I am, Twiggy???


Today I am all strung out on cheeseburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, chips, salsa and dip. It's like crack with calories. And the leftovers??? Holy temptation. I can't stand to look at it. I've been on a weekend bender.

No, no, no, I wanna make myself go to rehab.

Chicken, sausages, cookies, dips with veggies and crackers, these are my drugs of choice and they're going to kill me and all the hard work I've been doing getting ready for summer. The smell of the grill triggers my taste buds and suddenly I'm thinking; what's one little hot dog among friends?


But it's never one little hot dog, is it? One little cracker with cheese turns into ten. "Oh you have to try my homemade guacamole." Then the guacamole finds it's way onto my cheeseburger. Dirty smack pushers, all of 'em.

I can feel my body craving more and more and then I begin to sweat and shake all over. The pressure to conform is killing me. Look, everyone else it doing it. It's no biggie. Friendly summer cook-outs are a rite of passage, a time to bond with family and friends sharing good times and good food. It's all a big fat lie.

The truth is, it's good for nothing but a lifetime on the hips.

I'm a junkie. I was born into the addition and I'm a highly functional, as I always bring something to the table. Check out my addition to the barbecue. PURE EVIL.


With all this food leftover, what do I do? Pawn it off on my children, so they can end up with a $50 a day habit. Their innocent little faces asking for more. I have hit rock bottom.

Just say no to crack.

NSFW Friday...Therapy

Today's installment of NSFW Friday is certainly not safe for work at all, so don't even attempt it if you are at the office.

Since I have had, quite possibly, one of the worst weeks of my young life, I have decided to get it all out of my system and purge myself of all the negativity. Who better to help me make my statement than the late, great George Carlin and his famous, "The Seven Dirty Words you can't say on Television".

This one holds a special memory for me because I will never forget the first time I heard it. I was about six years-old when my 17 year-old brother came home drunk, late one night. He put the record, (remember those-LP's?) on the turntable, cranked the volume up to ridiculous and proceeded to pass out on the living room floor. I awoke at about 2am, in the sanctity of my little girl bed, to the sound of a strange man's voice spewing profanities and was absolutely PETRIFIED! I don't know what possessed me, but I got up and did what I thought was the death march downstairs, to find my drunken big brother passed out on the floor in front of the stereo with this baby playing on the record player. In all of my six year-old maturity, I shut the stereo to off and went back to bed.

We lost George Carlin a few years back, and it is certainly safe to say that we lost a true legend. This monologue is now a part of pop culture history. As we enter into a long holiday weekend, I invite you to view it as a release of any negativity, a reminder not to take life's little detours too seriously.

Have a great Memorial Day Weekend everyone! May we all come back on Tuesday refreshed and renewed.

PEACE! Happy kick off to Summer!

This Is All I Have To Say Today

Queen Beeyoch

The ladies over at Scandalous Housewife have bestowed upon me a most distinct honor; that of Queen Bitch.

Hell Yeah! It's nice to be recognized for all your hard work and dedication. Thank you my bishes!

Scandalous Housewife is the home to three lovely ladies-Team Cougar-Scandy-the smokin hot Scandalous Housewife herself, Lush-Ess, her sexy, MILF counter part and Suburbia Steph, the deliciously naughty suburban house wife extraordinaire. Please check them out, one click over there and you will be hooked! (Heff, these lovelies are right up your alley) Oh the trouble and mischief we could conjure up if we lived near each other. One can only dream.....LOVE THEM!

Anyway, enough of the Scandalous love fest! So with this prestigious award I must adhere to the following:

With this award,the Queen duties include:

1. List 7 things that make you awe-summm.

2. Pass the award onto 7 bloggers that we love.

3. Tag those bloggers to let them know they are now Queens, too (and link back to the Queen who tagged you).

Ok bishes, you ask and you shall recieve.

I decided that since the Scandalous Ones inspired this post, I would list 7 things that the bishes would approve of that make me awe-summmmm.

Warning: This could get a little racy.

1. I have no gag reflex. Nuff said.

2. I was a dancer and I still occasionally take ballet class to stay fit. Let's just say that FLEXIBILITY is my strong suit.

3. After my ex-asshole and I broke up, one of the first things I did was hook up with a hot, young, strapping, hottie that had a thing for me in grad school. Since I was married at the time we met, we became good friends until that evening....revenge sex ROCKS!

4. My breasts are real and still perky-after forty. My cleavage is a weapon I use wisely.

5. I practice a very disciplined form of exercise daily called Kegels.

6. My Guy says that I am insatiable. Like this is a problem?

7. I shop regularly at La Perla. Nuff said.

So because I love all you bitches and I couldn't choose between you, I invite you to take this award and run with it!

Thanks to Scandy and the crew for providing the inspiration for today's fun. Now if you'll excuse me, some of us may need a cold shower.

Peace Bishes!

Eagles Don't Fly With Crows

My mom always told us that Eagles don't fly with crows.

The logic is simple; kind of like when you lay down with dirty dogs you get fleas. The power of this statement rings true today more than ever. Eagles who fly with crows for longer than they should, will pay for it for a long time to come.

Because Eagles don't fly with crows.

A crow is, after all, a crow. Slick, black, loud and menacing. Always squawking for attention, and can be a cunning companion. The trickster at the carnival, the candy man in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (remember him?) Intriguing and alluring, but dangerous. The strong believe in their fortitude, never forgetting who they are but they are curious.

Eagles don't fly with crows.

The crow is the master of deviance, preying on the Eagle's principles and hiding inside the Eagle's shield of respect. Waiting in the darkness, creating havoc behind the hope of daylight. The Eagle is the moral compass by which flying creatures gage, the crow can only pretend until the jig is up.

Because Eagles don't fly with crows.

The crow is angry because he has been revealed for who he really is. Not an Eagle, but a crow and he is desperate to make things different, fool a new bunch of Eagles, but they know he will never be anything but a crow. And he is tangled in his webs of deception, the dirt of deceit, caked on his black coat.


Yes, Eagles don't fly with crows.


The Eagle is now free to soar and roam the world with opportunities endless, it's contributions valued by other Eagles, it's young safe and strong. The Eagle is content in the mountians and plains of it's habitat. It flies where it belongs, with the other Eagles.

The crow can only watch from a distance.



Eagles don't fly with crows.

My Mother Is A Rock Star

*For the record-that is NOT my mother. Sorry mom.*


My mother is a rock star, plain and simple.

She has that intangible "it" factor that others can only envy; always has. My mother has been blessed in many ways. She has five beautiful and talented children, 13 equally beautiful and talented grandchildren, the kindest of hearts, but she is no fool, (nobody messes with her- she will CUT YOU DOWN) and possesses the style of a Hollywood star, with a bank account to match.

Now that last detail, while generally irrelevant, is important in the context of the story I'm about to tell.

My mom, having completed her life's work; raising her five kids, has reached the stage in her life when she can enjoy herself, safe in knowledge that she has done her job well. The career path she is currently enjoying is that of SHOPPER. Stylist, to be exact, as we all benefit from one of moms daily excursions to the store of her choice. My mother has exquisite taste and style and is one hell of a hip chick. I speak the truth. She is the envy of women of all ages because not only is she beautiful, but she always looks stunning and stylish, and she knows quality. As I said before, my mom is not limited to where and what goods she can buy. I always tell her that if she were looking for a career she could easily be a Hollywood stylist. She's that good.

This is a woman that goes into Nieman Marcus and has a team of associates that follow her around to make sure her every need is catered to. She does not ask for such treatment, her mere presence in the store serves to create the buzz. One would think that because my mom would be considered a "big hitter" the commissioned employees have alterior motive when they see her, but the truth is they love her. They love to talk to her, ask her opinion and solicit her advice. Wherever we go, everyone knows and loves my mom. They know all of us by name, even if we don't know them because they picked out our birthday gift or Christmas gift. With service like that you would think that my mom would shop no where else, but you would be wrong. My mother is a wise woman. Her favorite destination, the store that is closest to her heart, where, like Cheers-everybody knows her name, is TJ Maxx. My mother enjoys the thrill of the hunt.

If you are in need of a new toaster, mom's got one. Need a panini maker? Check. Coffee maker?Espresso or Cappuccino? Whatever you need, moms got it at TJ Maxx South.

Fast forward to last Friday morning. My Guy is flying home from business in Atlanta. He is seated on the plane next to a woman executive who is working on her laptop. She tells him that she has been up all night preparing a presentation to deliver to the board of directors of her company this morning and asks if she can bounce a few ideas off him. He, of course, asks her what company she works for. She replies, "TJX Corporation". The executive continues on and when she is done, My Guy says, "I have a story to share with you." He goes on to tell her everything I have just told you here, except to elaborate on TJ Maxx South. He has dubbed the 2000+ sq ft area in my moms basement, where she stores the over flow of said goods, TJ Maxx South.

The woman executive is speechless. She tells My Guy that she has been up all night, looking for a way to wow the board, planning her strategy and in five minutes her just gave her the perfect opening to her presentation.
"Can I use her name, " she asks.
"Of course." he replies. "They all know her. Just mention her name."

They all know my mother because she has been contacted by high executives in the TJX Corporation on numerous occasions. They have called her to thank her for being a valued customer, they have solicited her opinion on her shopping likes and dislikes and they have asked her many times what they could do to make TJ Maxx better.

The executive on the plane was infused with a new energy, and told My Guy that my mom is EXACTLY the kind of customer they are looking for!

I can only imagine the look on the board member's faces as the executive from another state comes to town singing the praises of the legend that be my mom, who is, of course, their very own rock star.

Six Degrees Of Zibbs-eration

I was just thinking about back when I started blogging in August of last year. It was a lonely job at first. Nobody read my blog and I didn't care. I wrote for myself, reading my own words and feeling the power of having my very own URL. I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to do, except write. So write I did....then I got my first comment.

It was from Lydia at ...Obsessive Girl... and my love affair with blogging began. (Lyds has been absent from the sphere as of late, I miss her) I would go to Lydia's blog and comment, for we shared a common love for beauty products and reality tv. Then, one day, I got a comment from a guy named Dr. Zibbs. He commented on my post about my beloved Red Sox and their dramatic win in post-season play. I clicked on to Dr. Zibbs site and I entered into the world know as That Blue Yak. The post was about a blogger pillow fight he had arranged in his native West Chester, PA at some local motel, complete with video of scantily-clad women having a pillow fight on a hotel bed. I wasn't quite sure what to think and I was petrified to leave a comment, so I waited. Alas, my team was denied ANOTHER World Championship, but Zibsy's was not. When his team won the World series, I commented on his blog, giving him props on his team's big win and he reciprocated with a comment on my blog.

It was there, at Zibsy's blog, that I noticed a cast of characters who commented on his blog daily. And they were funny. Really funny. I clicked on their avitars and went over to their sites and laughed even harder. I guess you could say I lurked for a while, because I was afraid of what would happen if I commented uninvited. Since Zibbs welcomed my comments and because he frequently commented at the Daily Dandy, I stayed where I felt safe, at Zibsy's place. As each day went by, I got a little braver and decided to drop a comment in the bloggersphere, here and there. I then started to get comments on my blog, here and there. It made the whole process of blogging so much better, knowing someone was reading it. I was also having a great time reading blogs and learning and laughing right along with the bloggers.

I have connected with some great people doing this little blogging thing we do here everyday, and I've realized that bloggers are generally normal folks who are caring and willing to give you advice and share their experiences with each other. Almost all of the people on my followers button, I have picked up from someone else's fabulous blog, who read my comment on someones blog or I read their comment on someones blog, or read about them on someones blog or, GOOD LORD, you know what I'm saying! The nature of the thing is quite incestuous to say the least. My blogger buddy Scope does an occasional post called The Six Degrees of Scope-eration, where he links himself to other bloggers, quite brilliantly. He was onto this six degree thing long before it was chic.

To call Zibsy the Kevin Bacon of the bloggersphere is an understatement, because more than a few of us have connected through his blog. I guess what I'm trying to say is if you're out there and you're lurking, don't be afraid. Click on the comment button and leave me a comment. I welcome you to my Daily Dandy world. Click on any of the commenters or followers here and see how great their blogs are. Then, click on the That Blue Yak and leave a comment.

Your blogging life will never be the same, I assure you. It's like blogger magic.

Just Your Average Joe

Do you think "Joe the Plumber" drives around in one of these babies?

Something tells me this is a crappy way to get to work.

Today's Special: If I Had A Million Flavors

I'm not really an ice cream girl, per say, but I heard that Ben & Jerry's, the ice cream aficionado's in Vermont, released this new flavor to the ice cream-eating world yesterday in honor of the band, The Barenaked Ladies.

The concoction is described as:

"A Collision of Chocolate & Vanilla Ice Creams mixed with Chocolate-covered toffee, White Chocolate Chunks, Peanut Butter Cups & Chocolate-Covered almonds".

Hello gorgeous.

This is not the first time Ben & Jerry's have named an ice cream flavor after a band or a musical artist. They also have popular flavors named after, Gerry Garcia, Phish, The Dave Matthews Band and Willie Nelson to name a few. The idea here was to create a Canadian flavor and The Barenaked Ladies was the company's number one choice. A portion of the proceeds of the sales of the ice cream will go to the band, who in turn will donate it to the Canadian charity, ABC-Canada, a small organization that supports adult literacy.

This sounds like a flavor I could wrap my tounge around, with just the right elements to get me to drop it in my shopping cart at the supermarket. Drummer Tyler Stewart says the band put together a list of additions they liked: chocolate-covered toffee for him, chocolate-covered almonds for Robertson, white chocolate chunks for Jim Creeggan and peanut butter cups for Kevin Hearn.

Since Barenaked Ladies front-man Steven Page left the band in February to persue a solo-career, the band is now a quartet. This leaves me wondering what Page's contribution to the ice cream might have been.

I'm not quite sure cocaine would have been a marketable entity for Ben & Jerry's.

See Buddy In Love

See Buddy.

Buddy is in love. Awww, ain't love grand.

But, Buddy has a confession to make. Lately, Buddy has been feeling a bit smothered.

But what's a dog in love to do? When it's quiet and he's alone, sometimes he just feels like shouting, "You're not the boss of me."

Poor Buddy. He knows the deal. Truth be told, she IS the boss of him. Buddy is a sucker for a nice set of legs and a cute face.

Then there's him.

He's always sniffing around Buddy's girl, trying to mount her and mark his territory. When it comes to her, Buddy pretty much has no choice but to tolerate the other man.

But don't feel bad for Buddy.

Buddy is very wise.

Because he knows, when a man steals your wife, there is no better revenge than to let him keep her.

Good boy Buddy! Good ole' sly dog.

Just Another Manic Monday

Random Bits from the Daily Dandy HQ:

-Mothers Day was a big success! I just got off the phone with my Mom who told me she had the BEST Mother's Day ever. Good work, my family. A nice showing by everybody.

-Today could be the start of something good. Something great? I will hope and pray. Only time will tell but this is exciting.

-The Celtics, Red Sox and Bruins all won yesterday! We live to see another day and everything is as it should be. Life is good.

-Allergies are kicking the crap out of my son. The poor kid came home last week with eyes that were practically swollen shut. I. Almost. Died. when I saw him. Poor baby, he never had problems with allergies before. He had to stay inside for a few days because everything is covered with pollen, which to him is a fate worse than death. He's better today, but still not 100.

-Gotta pay some bills. UGH.

-Got a great smokin' hot new designer bag for MD along with some other great stuff. They love me, they really love me. Life is better than good. The thing is, I wouldn't have cared if they gave me a mud pie. It's not the gift that matters. It's the fact that they cared enough to put thought and effort into surprising me with something I love.

-American Idol is down to the top three and I'm loving it! You know who I'm voting for. GO Adam! I say Adam and Gokey in the final, with Adam taking the crown. Just another tiara to add to his collection.

-And speaking of Fox, My daughter and I are excited to watch the new Fox show Glee, premiering after the American Idol finale next week. It looks hilarious. It's about the Glee club at a high school and I'm guessing the theme here is that the social rejects and losers in the Glee club become super stars in their own right. Everybody loves to root for the underdog.

-Here's hoping all you mothers felt all the love you deserve for a job well done on your special day! Nobody loves you like your mother.

Happy Monday! How was your weekend?

The Never Ending Story

*Sorry peeps, I feel compelled to jump into the fray on this one as a "journalist", fan and sports fanatic.


Manny is uncharacteristically talking to the media.

He's even eating a slice of proverbial humble pie. Choking on it, is more like it, because Manny messed up, big time. Like the thief who's not the least bit sorry he stole, but is terribly sorry he got caught, Manny has successfully destroyed his status as "the greatest right-handed hitter in baseball".

He didn't burn that bridge, he blew the sucker up.

Manny being Manny just ain't what it used to be and it will never be again. It can't. He will be forever marked with the Scarlett Letter of major league baseball; the asterisk. Greater men have been here before him and now he must take his place in line behind them. Clemens, Bonds and McGwire have all been warming up a spot in the un-esteemed Cheaters Club, and Manny just passed his initiation.

And it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

There can be no doubt that Manny has been cheating. None. He got caught using HCG, Human Chorionic Gonadotropin, a female fertility drug that is commonly used by "dopers" to re-start the body's testosterone production and mask anabolic steroid use and MLB suspended him for 50 games. Now, why would a doctor be prescribing Manny a fertility drug??

We know exactly why. And so does he.

The usually smug Ramirez issued an official statement yesterday, apologizing to the LA Dodgers owners, coach and fans. saying, "I know everybody is disappointed. So am I. I'm sorry about the whole situation." He also said a lot more.

"I have been advised not to say anything more for now. I do want to say one other thing; I've taken and passed about 15 drug tests over the past five seasons," Ramirez said in his statement.

We are sure what you meant to say, Manny, is that you figured out how to beat the system for all those years and all those seasons, including the ones you spent in Boston. Sports journalist and life-long Red Sox fan, Bill Simmons sums it up best in his Page 2 column on ESPN.com. In his May 7th, 2009 piece titled, "Confronting my Worst Nightmare", Simmons talks to his 6 1/2 year-old son about the prospect of the "taint" which now looms over the 2004 Boston Red Sox Championship team.

"But Manny was your favorite hitter on that team. And he tested positive later. Is he still your favorite hitter?"

"Yes and no," I say. "No, because he cheated. Yes, because whether he was cheating or not, I can't forget watching him hit baseballs on a daily basis. I just can't. You should have seen him. Perfect swing, perfect balance, perfect everything. He was a hitting savant. That's the funny thing -- he didn't NEED to cheat. The guy was put on the earth to hit."

Eventually the mighty fall hard and Manny has been nothing but self-serving and arrogant throughout his entire career. He had a swagger that went unmatched, BECAUSE he was Manny, and he thought he was above everything and everyone; including the game itself.

No more than two months ago, Manny was asked in a TV interview by a female reporter if "too much was being made of the steroid story in the major leagues.

"I don't think about that," Ramirez said. "I just play the game, go home and move on."

Manny needs to think about the fact that Manny can no longer just be Manny. He will be back in July, no doubt, and will continue to produce for the Dodgers. The question is what will happen to his swing now? Every move he makes will be scrutinized, criticized and analyzed. His career and his integrity gone, like that deep, driving shot to left field over the monster.

All because Manny decided to get high with a little help from his friends.

Gwennie, Your Challenge Has Opened A Pandora's Box Of Emotions

One of my favorite Blogger buddies Gwen, over at Everything I Like Causes Cancer has reached a blogging milestone. She hit the 600 mark. That's right, 600 posts and still going strong! Way to go Gwen, and a hearty Daily Dandy Congrats for keeping us laughing. Gwen is seriously the best! She is not only completely HILARIOUS, but sweet, smart, generous and caring. The blog world would be so much more of a LOL wonderful place, if there were more Gwens in the bloggersphere, but make no mistake, there is only one Gwen. Go check her out and tell her I sent you. (and if I ever get my butt to St. Louis Gwen, I am so looking you up for a round of drinks)

In honor of her 600th post Gwen asked us to join her in celebrating with her by finding a piece of clothing/footwear/accessory that you can't get rid of.

As she put it:

I suspect everyone has at least one piece of clothing like my pajama top: that pair of shoes you can't seem to throw in the trash despite them being broken down and soleless; that ratty-ass three-quarter-sleeve tee-shirt from the 1986 AC/DC Fly on The Wall tour that is covered in paint stains the same color as your second bathroom; that pair of jeans you finally had to make into cut-off shorts and now you can't get rid of the shorts even though your ass hangs out the bottom like a $2 hooker.

So I want you to do me a favor. Tonight when you get home from work, or today while the kiddos are napping, go find your clothing/footwear/accessory equivalent of my pajama top and take a picture of the revered item. Post the picture on your own blog tomorrow and tell us the story behind it. You don't have to link back to this post because I don't get fussy about stuff like that but please do come back and leave a comment so we can find and enjoy your stories.

I am more than happy to oblige. BUT, little did I know that the item I chose would cause a cacophony of emotions from deep inside me.

You see those raggedy-ass clogs in the picture above? Yeah, they are what's got me into a lather. See, I bought them about three or four years ago at a DSW Shoe Warehouse (read:discount). They are Michael Kors $89.00 cloggy things but I loved them to death....literally. Look at the heel of the shoe on the right, you will see that it has snapped, almost off, just barely hanging by a thread. The thing is, this is not the first time the heel on these suckers have snapped, while I was wearing them. Noooo, this would be the second time, only the first time it was the other shoe's heel that gave out. I contemplated throwing them into the trash then, but decided to research the cost of gluing the wooden heel back on because I became quite attached to the little clogs.

I loved them because they have a great wooden heel (that apparently wasn't strong), and in their prime I wore them to work with dress pants or jeans, as they crossed over into both the casual and office dress genres quite nicely. Not to mention that they are slip ons!! Yahoo for slip ons, I tell you. Easy and looked great. I was in Clog heaven. I always felt great pairing them up with my sexy jeans, they elongated the legs nicely and made be feel sassy.

Now, the good Lord above knows that I own over 6,372 pairs of shoes. Each one unique, some breathtakingly expensive, some not. The initial $89.00 investment on these shoes will be nearly doubled after I have them repaired for the second time, as the first repair cost $45 at my shoe guru's shop. But I can't let them go...After I broke the second shoe, I put them in a bag and threw them in the trash......Then I went back out the garbage can and retrieved them. Yes. I. Did. And I retrieved them again today from my car, so that I could photograph them for you. They've been in there for about a month now, the intention is to get them to the shoe guru, but I keep wrestling with the justification in my mind.

WTF is it with these shoes???? I have bought shoes twenty times more expensive, in less than three seconds, that have never let me down and performed to perfection on command. So what is it about these, inferior, cheaply made, soooo way past the season, clogs that has me in an emotional tailspin?

Christ, I need a shoe psychologist.

Odds On How Long This Guy Will Be Out Of Work

Some people are just downright brilliant. It's either brilliance or pure chutzpah, but any way you look at it, this guy has it all going for him. His name is Lawson Clarke and he was recently laid off from his job at Arnold Worldwide, a Boston based ad agency in March of this year. Clarke has launched an online resume, http://www.malecopywriter.com/ to showcase his portfolio of digital, TV and print work to potential employers.

In a takeoff of the the famously parodied Burt Reynolds centerfold spread in Cosmo Magazine decades ago, Clarke cleverly places an old-school TV in the perfect spot for viewing his "stuff". The Boston Herald reports 37 year-old Clarke said, "Had I known that taking off my clothes would get this much attention, I would have been nude years ago."
After getting a positive write up in Monday's trade mag, AdvertisingAge, Clarke reports his site received over 140,000 hits as of yesterday with no offers of employment yet, although he has been getting plenty of e-mails. One chairman of a large New York ad agency asked him, "Why are you unemployed? Do you have a personality disorder?"

The thing about this guy's site is that it's really unique and definitely entertaining. Ever the curious one, I checked it out after reading about it in the paper this morning, and found myself spending far more time perusing the site than I had anticipated. I am always in awe of creative ingenuity and talent. Clarke says that he saw the handwriting on the wall when the recession hit and began working on the site before he was laid off. He reports it took two months to grow the cheesy moustache for the photo and that the chest hair is all his.

So I wonder, with all the great press and a resume like that, what odds would Vegas place on how long this guy will be out of work?

Todays Special: TMI

In honor of Cinco de Mayo, I ate some bad Mexican food and woke up feeling like a Fat Bastard.

Video may be NSFW


Sorry bloggers, I'm just happy it's not Swine Flu.

For The Discriminating Bird

SUBURB OF BOSTON: HOUSE FOR SALE/RENT:

Clean, beautiful and spacious; this hip, urban, tri-level has three bedrooms, complete with outdoor patio perches and lots of closet space.

Set in a serene wooded area, the house boasts one of the best views in the quiet suburb. Voted one of BirdLife Magzine's Top Ten Most Desirable Locations, if residents don't mind a nosy, over zealous White Boxer, Pug and Jack Russell, or a few black squirrels to contend with occasionally.

Utilities, food, free parking and wireless internet included. Just a short jump to the lush branches of the many trees above.

Occupancy availiable immediately and squatters are encouraged and welcome.

Gordon Geko: Madoff With Wall Street

So I'm reading the Boston Herald's Inside Track (gossip column) the other day, and they report that Michael Douglas and Oliver Stone have signed the deal to team up again to bring us the sequel to their 1987 hit movie, "Wall Street". Douglas played Gordon Geko, a greedy Wall Street shark who coined the phrase, "Greed is good". Douglas will be reprising his Oscar-winning role as Gordon Geko in the yet-to-be titled sequel. A spokesman for Twentieth Century Fox said, "The project is timely and relevant given the state of the economy. We need to keep the storyline under wraps, but it's literally ripped from today's headlines."

My mind immediately went to a conversation I had at my kitchen table with the parent of my daughter's friends back in January. He had come to pick his twin girls up after they had spent the night, and we were chit chatting about the Bernie Madoff scandal. Many people and philanthropic organizations from Boston were directly affected (ripped off) by Madoff's $50 BILLION dollar Ponzi Scheme, and most of them in the Jewish community. My best friend's family has been financially ruined because of this man and I asked him if he had been affected directly or knew anyone that was.

The conversation continued, him naming the numerous friends that lost money with Madoff, and we talked about the unbelievable depths of which this scheme encompassed. We shared information we had heard, some here say, some direct information from the victims, but the general consensus was that the investors in Madoff's firm had lost everything and there was no getting it back. The conversation then turned to Hollywood.

"Someone will make this into a movie," he said.
"Oh, no doubt," I replied.

We agreed that when all the information comes out about Madoff and his scheme, it would have all the makings of a Hollywood epic.

"Who will play Madoff?" I said as the casting agent in my mind went to work.

Almost in unison, we both shouted out excitedly, "Michael Douglas!"
OF COURSE...No one else could even be considered, we said. I even briefly pondered with the thought of blogging about it, so sure of the prospect of a mega-hit.

Wednesday I sent that parent friend of mine a text message that said:

I'm reading the Inside Track in the Herald today and they report that Michael

Douglas and Oliver Stone will reunite for a sequel to "Wall Street". They report

that the project is timely and relevant to today's economy. "It's literally ripped

from today's headlines." Ummmm, was our conversation about that

right on???? Great minds think alike.

To which he promptly replied:

I heard about that on the radio this morning. I agree about great minds.

Ok? So you heard it here first.