Speechless

Lil Poopy Got Some Gangsta Swagga

Meet Lil Poopy. A nine year old from Brockton, MA, his Lil story is all over the morning papers.

Seems this nine year old rapping prodigy created quite a stir on youtube a few months back, singing about being a "coke boy". Seems Lil Poopy raps about being a "cocaine cowboy", Gucci, Louis Vuitton and other nine year-old staples like guns and "hoes".

Lil Poopy was discovered by rapper French Montana, and claims to be his mentor. Poopy is one of his Coke Boyz posse, and is on his  label, Cocaine City Records.  So was he the one who taught him to slap the buxom bottoms of women and flash large wads of cash with his bling bling? Cuz whoever did that is in big trouble today.

Brockton Police put their "pimp hand" down when they flagged the family to the MA Department of Children and Families with a child abuse claim. Lil Poopy's dad, Luie Rivera of Brockton is under investigation for neglect and abuse. And get this, the guy thinks that "there aint nuthin wrong with what he's doin". Daddy told the Boston Herald last night. "Hip-hop is like the WWE- it's all fake," Rivera said. "Back in the beginning what you were rapping about you were really doing. Now it's all an act."

An act that turns out is a dangerous play date. As the Boston Herald's Margery Eagan brilliantly points out this morning, "Lil Poopy calls himself a "cocaine coyboy". How long until he asks to sample the product?"
Indeed. It's inevitable.

Good thing Johnny Law is on the case. At least there's a slight chance they may save this kid.

I doubt it, though. The money and the fame and the drugs are all too real.......in this fake act.

Talking Sh*t

Editorial Discalimer

I want to begin today's blog post with the disclaimer. Today's post is literally

about fecal matter. If you are of the faint of heart please leave now and except my sincerest apologies. Please come back tomorrow when I'm talking about something frivolous like celebrities, nose jobs or boobs. Thank you.

Can we talk? Or the question is can we talk sh*t? 

I got to tell someone because I'm about to blow. I've got to confess that my dog has a shi*ty problem Or a shi*ting problem. Whatever you want to call it driving my family and I bonkers.

My dog is old. Probably about 13 to 14 years, we are not quite sure because he was a pound dog. About six months ago he started pooping on the kitchen floor, upstairs in the hallway and several other places in my house at night. We would let him out 1030 or 11 o'clock at night to make sure he was doing what he needed to do before bed. Sure enough, the next morning there was a package lovingly left somewhere in the house. It's gotten to the point that there are gates cordoning off almost all of the house that the dog is allowed to be in.

Now I know you're saying to yourself, "Haven't you taken him to the vet?" Of course we took him to the vet. We have changed his diet at least six or  seven times in the last six months, yet every night the dog manages to find his spot. The vet has diagnosed him with "hyper diarrhea". I like call it night shi*ting. You've heard of night eating? I think he has night shit*ing. For the last month he has been on probiotics and an anti-diarrheal medication. He takes half an antidiarrheal pill and a pill probiotic with his dinner.

I guess I can be frank here. Since medication, I can report that his fecal specimens have been firmer and better shaped, therefore much easier to clean the package off of the kitchen floor. Thank God for the bulk pack of Clorox antibacterial sanitary wipes at Costco. I might have a nervous breakdown without such a tool to clean up this daily occurrence. And I'm going through them about as quick as anything the dog eats and then goes through him. 

And its not getting any better. We are about to see the vet again for possibly the 5th time since this started and I'm beside myself with the prospect of getting up in the morning to face what awaits me. And here's the thing, this is not about me, it's about him and his health. The vet says his weight is fine and he does not seem to be suffering any ill effects from the chronic pooping. That is good, but WE are suffering from the amount of work and unsanitary aspect of this entire shi*ty situation.

I guess what it all comes down to is love. 

Love is a funny thing, because it makes you do things you would normally never do. Cleaning up dog poop daily is not the way I foresaw my dog living out his golden years, but if this is what I've got then this is what I've got. Like it or not, I love that dog more than I love his problem. So I trudge on, like a trooper hoarding Clorox wipes and supermarket bags to dispose of the problem and hope for the best. Tough sh*it, right?

Maybe it's psychological? But I draw the line at a doggie shrink because if this continues, I'm the only one who's going to need a shrink. 

Up Up And Away

Happy Friday Bloggers!

I'm off for my yearly vacation to sunny Florida, and I have to tell you I'm not feeling 100% about leaving The Candy Bar, but I'm confident that my staff will handle things beautifully in my absence. Right? Yes, right.

So I will be gone from today, Friday, February 15th, 2013 and returning to the bloggersphere on Monday, February 25th. 

Have a great week bloggers, and take care of each other while I'm gone. Try to take a moment to stop and relax. I know I'm going to try my best. Right?

Yes, right.
I will try.

Who's The Dumb Blonde Now?

One day a blonde is sitting on a plane next to one of those annoying, pushy businessmen. He asks her if she would like to play a game. She politely declines, but the man explains the game to her anyway.

He says, "It goes like this: I will ask you a question and if you get it wrong you will give me $5, and vice-versa."

She says no again, and tries to fall asleep.

The man tries harder, saying, "Aw, come on. I'll give you $50 for each question. Or how about $500?" At that number, the blonde agrees.

The businessman explains again, "If you get my question wrong you give me $5. And when you ask the question, and I get it wrong, I will pay you $500.

"Got it," she replies.

He asks, "Who was the sixth president?" She admits she doesn't know and gives him $5.

Now it's her turn, and she says, "What has purple legs, five arms and only two yellow teeth?"

The businessman doesn't know - he uses his laptop, checks the Internet, e-mails his friends. No one knows the answer. So he gives her $500.00. Then, as they're landing he asks her, "What was that thing anyway?"

She thinks a few minutes, hands him $5 and walks off the plane.

Emily Post 101: A Survey

Is emailing a thank you note acceptable etiquette? The answer may surprise you.

The experts say handwritten thank you's are still tops, but there are exceptions to the rule. According to Emily Post, a handwritten note is preferred for gifts, but if the gift comes from a close friend or relative an email note is acceptable. The other exception is a thank you for a job interview. In that case an email thank you is highly encouraged and can aid your chances for the position.

I would venture to guess that in this wired age of technology, easy and instant email communication with another individual is not only acceptable, but eco-friendly. What would all the "greenies" say to Emily Post?

I will admit that I love a quick note in my inbox, expressing gratitude and well wishes, but I also understand the impact of a note taken from pen to paper. The handwritten note has become a lost art form. I read once that Princess Diana was a stickler for thank you notes. She always hand wrote her thank you's and always within 24 hours of the gesture. Blue bloods steeped in tradition, but it drives home the point about the importance of saying thank you.

Tell me what you think.

Snow Job

We survived!

The Blizzard of 2013 was not a bust like I thought it was going to be. It was exactly the power packed punch that the media meteorological gods predicted that dumped over 2.5 feet of snow around here. 

The thing is, this ain't our first time at the "historic" storm rodeo.  We are hearty New Englanders  and when it was all over we came out to inspect the impact. Suburban inlanders, like me, handled the snow fall quite well, considering we never lost power in this part of the state. We rode out the storm in the lots of  food, TV, movies and warm comfort of our homes. WE were lucky. 

Our coastal counterparts were not so lucky. Out of power since Friday, flooding and severe winds caused expensive damage to most coastal areas. There were tragedies. Like the dangers of carbon monoxide that tragically took three lives, including that of a 14 year old boy. Just tragic.

So today, we go back to business as usual, but it's nothing usual at all. The freezing rain that is falling right now reminds us of the dangers of two feet of snow topped off with freezing rain that turns to ice. Especially on our roof tops. As I said, we are used to this and I have to say the state handled this storm beautifully. The Friday afternoon driving ban made things much easier for travel when it was lifted by 4PM Saturday and the media and the Commonwealth kept us updated as the storm progressed. 

As for me? It's off to work now. See that snow bank above? 

I gotta go shovel it.