Poisonous Points

I'm Back...And This Will NOT Be a Mommy Blog, HOWEVER...

2007-05-20T16:38:00.000-05:00

Hello blogsphere. I have returned. *takes a bow*

This whole "mommy" thing is quite time consuming! But, now that Emma's almost 4 months old, I feel like I can get back to my pre-baby pursuits.

That being said, Phoenix asked if this was going to become a mommy blog. The definitive answer is NO. I can't say I'm not going to share funny, sad, sappy, whatever stories with you all from time to time...but in general, the there's something not quite "poisonous" about how damn cute my daughter is. Plus, I need to talk about something OTHER than how cute she is.

So, I hope you'll all come back and visit from time to time for more Poisonous Points.

P.S. Here's an updated pic of my daughter, because, well, she is so damn cute.

This Time I Have a Good Excuse....

2007-02-13T16:07:00.000-05:00

So, this time I have a good excuse for not posting in awhile. It's not that my muse left me, or that I was just too tied up with work.

Nope, this time, I think you all HAVE to forgive me. After all, I GAVE BIRTH.

Yup, that's right. I'm now officially a mom. My little munchkin was born 4 weeks and 2 days early. Good news is, she's TOTALLY and completely healthy. Just see for yourself:

Name: Emma Mei (pronounced "May," it means "beautiful" in Chinese)
Birth date: Saturday, February 3, 2007
Birth time: 8:54 a.m.
Weight: 5 lbs, 11 oz
Length: 19 inches

Being a mom is completely strange and surreal. I'm still adjusting to it, given that I lost a whole month of preparation for her arrival. I didn't even have my bags packed for the hospital because I was going to "do it over the weekend." When my water broke at 3:15 a.m. on that Saturday morning, however, I realized that things were NOT going to go as I planned. I'm sure this is just a precursor to what having a child is like anyway.

But I wouldn't change a thing. My labor was relatively easy, so I won't share the details with you. After all, I've already received several hateful glances from friends when they find out I only labored for about 4 hours for my first child.

Anyway -- I've got to run. It's time to feed Emma. I hope you are all doing well!!!

Die Happy

2007-01-29T09:42:00.000-05:00

I'm tired. Extremely tired. And everyone keeps telling me, "just wait, it's worse after the baby is born." Yeah right.

Since I have little to no energy, I offer this link for your reading (or other kind of) pleasure: At least you could die happy.

Cool Gift

2007-01-19T09:26:00.000-05:00

Wednesday was The Antidote's birthday. Among the cool gifts that he got was one from none other than David Amulet and his lovely wife. They gave him a game called Would You Rather...?.

But, to suit our tastes, it was the "sick and twisted" version.

The whole point of the game is to get people to talk about really bizarre situations that you would rarely (if ever) find yourself in. In fact, the game instructions (damn lawyers) tell you to NEVER act our the situations posed...as they may harm or kill you. Nice.

Sounds weird, but it's freakin' hilarious. So last night, it being a week night and all, we decided NOT to play.

Of course,that did not stop me from reading some of the cards aloud to see just what this game was about. We then spent the evening debating:

Would You Rather...
if a man (women, switch genders for a moment)
be able to spontaneously ejaculate OR never ejaculate?

As a group, I think we decided that spontaneous ejaculation would be MUCH more fun. But then, this question arose:

Would You Rather...
stand naked for 5 minutes at the busiest airport nearest your home OR be caught masturbating by a member of the opposite sex?

The spontaneous ejaculation would certainly be an issue in either of these situations, no?

Of course not all the questions involved things of such an...um...intimate nature. There was also:

Would You Rather...
eat 3 barrels of dead flies over two weeks
OR eat 20 lbs of moldy bacon?

DA's wife and I decided that eating a barrel of dead flies would probably be better because, after awhile, they would just be like the handfuls of peanuts you eat when you go to those restaurants that let you leave peanut shells on the floor. DA and The Antidote, however, felt that 20 lbs of moldy bacon was certainly less problematic than dead flies.

As you can tell -- this can lead to some interesting dinner conversation.....

The floor is now open for any other Would you Rathers... that come to mind...

What Would Jesus Sell (or Buy)?

2007-01-08T09:36:00.000-05:00

I'm not anti-religious. I just don't know much about it. I didn't have much religious training when I was young, so I really feel like I don't know enough about the topic to discuss it intelligently. So, I don't, generally.

That being said, I recently ran across an article, though, that has left me perplexed. Apparently there is a new trend to tie in faith with fitness. I understand the premise. But don't these smack of infomercials-gone-bad:

The Lord's Gym: Where "instructors shout out stimulating quotations from scripture" and you can take praise-rcise and yo-god classes.

Body By God: a 40-day program to teach people how to "achieve the highest level of performance from God's handiwork."

What Would Jesus Eat: Um...Bread and wine?

The Prayer Diet: With riveting chapters such as "weight loss through prayer." Is this like the scene in "Are you There God, It's Me Margaret" when she chants "I must, I must, I must increase my bust?"

The Hallelujah Diet: Teaching God's original plan for health and healing. The list of foods to be avoided is longer than the list of foods you can eat. Sounds strangely like starvation to me...

Forget cleanliness being next to godliness. Today's mantra? Commercialism is next to godliness.

May I Please Have an Order of Crazy with a Side of Psycho for 2007?

2007-01-02T10:09:00.000-05:00

Welcome to 2007 everyone. I hope you all partook of some safe and happy New Year celebrations. Ringing in the New Year is always something of a bitter sweet moment for me. I love the aspect of something new, something unpredictable being right around the corner. But the prospect of saying goodbye to another year, is well, a little sad.

2006 was an great year for me....but a conversation -- ok, a total freak out -- I had on New Year's Even has begun to make me feel a little uneasy about my state of mind for 2007.

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The Antidote, I, and 4 other friends decided we wanted to ring in the New Year at a party in downtown D.C. We figured it might be our last chance to "really" do this right for awhile being that I'm "with child" and all. Plus, any reason to dress up and make fun of other people's fashion sense, right?

At any rate, The Antidote and I were having everyone over to the house for pre-party munchies, drinks, etc. So, we spent most of the morning on December 31 cleaning the house up. At about 10:00 a.m., I ask The Antidote if he's hungry.

He replies that he's "getting there." I reply, "Well, I need to eat something."

***************
Now, about 3-4 months ago (when I was only 3-4 months preggo) the phrase "I need to eat something," really meant, "If I don't eat something in the next five minutes, I will turn into the little girl from The Exorcist until some sort of sustenance passes my lips." Any of you that have been pregnant or around pregnant people get this.

Well, now that I'm in my 7th month, when I say "I need to eat something," it generally means we have AT LEAST a 30 minute to one hour window before I go all kooky.

Poor Antidote, however, is unaware of this change because, well, why should he be?

Anyway, back to my story.

***************
So, the Antidote jumps into self-preservation mode. He runs to the kitchen and starts listing all of things that we have in the house that I could possibly eat. He stops short of offering to cook up our dog.

Of course, nothing that he offers me sounds like what I want to eat. So, I stand in the kitchen, unable to make a decision. After a few minutes of this, The Antidote sighs and says, "You are being SO indecisive!" and leaves the kitchen to continue house preparations.

I become exasperated with him...and myself. So, I march upstairs to put on some clothes (I was in my pajamas, not naked. Naked pregnant is NOT like Demi Moore would lead you to believe). I've decided that I'm going to the store...and while there I will think about what I want and then eat it. But, of course, I don't share this epiphany with The Antidote.

So, he shouts from downstairs, still unbeknownst of my decision, "Are you going to eat something?"

I yell back, "I'm just going to go to the store."

At this point, he is really irritated with me. So, he comes upstairs and says, "Why don't you eat something? We have plenty here."

And this, my friends, is where I go crazy. I start to cry. And not just tears streaming down my face. I really start to sob. I yell at him, "Over the last few days it's like I....well...like you think that I'm....damn it, haven't you ever been hungry and not known what you want to eat?"

No folks, what I've just typed is NOT meant to make sense. It is the kind of crazy psychosis that has been building up in me for the last 7 months.

So, his response? "Yes, but it's the crying over it that's worrying me."

It took all my effort not to try and lift our dresser and throw it at him.

***************
I really am telling this story as something "funny," but it does worry me a bit. I mean, "haven't you ever been hungry and not known what you want to eat?" What the hell kind of crazy thing is that to say?

I know, I know, "pregnancy hormones." I'm not one to claim that I'm a reasonable person 365 days a year, 24 hours a day. But to cry because I don't know what I want to eat?

I just hope this isn't a sign of what's to come.

***************
Anyway, that's my long way of saying I welcomed in 2007 with a little bit of crazy. I hope all of you had a different type of crazy time...i.e., falling down because you were so drunk and happy crazy.

May your New Year be prosperous...and may you always know what you want to eat when you're hungry.

I've Been a Bad Blogger And All I Got Is This T-Shirt...

2006-12-18T11:50:00.000-05:00

Ok, what do I get for not blogging for a few weeks? Tagged. Yup. Tagged by my one-day-she'll-be-famous friend Amanda Brice. So, in the spirit of the holidays, I'll answer, instead of beating her up. :-)

Four Jobs I've Had
1. Cleaning tables at Arby's (I wasn't even allowed near the register)
2. Nuclear, Biological & Chemical Operations Center Officer (I knew this one would raise eyebrows)
3. Law Clerk for a Judge
4. Litigation Attorney

Four Places I've Lived
1. Huntsville, Alabama
2. Camp Zama, Japan
3. Ft. Leonardwood, Misery (oops, I mean, Missouri)
4. Boulder, Colorado

Four Favorite Foods (you mean I have to narrow it to 4? I just love food....)
1. Steak --- mmmm...red meat
2. Cheesecake, plain with strawberries on top, preferably
3. Pho
4. Mashed potatoes

Four Movies I Could Watch Over and Over
1. Grease
2. Fifth Element
3. Dune (either the new or old version...you pick)
4. The Breakfast Club

Four TV Shows I Watch
1. Heroes (damn it, no new episodes until January)
2. Scrubs
3. Miami Ink
4. What Not To Wear

Four Places I've Visited
1. Sweden
2. China (including Hong Kong)
3. Taiwan
4. Mexico

Four Places I'd Like To Visit
1. France
2. Italy
3. Greece
4. Australia

Four Websites I Go To (almost) Daily
1. Hotmail
2. Fark.com
3. Google
4. Blogger

Four People I'm Tagging To Do This
No one. I won't make you do it. Consider it my gift to you. Merry ChristmaKwanzaKah everyone.

The Devolution of English

2006-11-27T13:18:00.000-05:00

I'll admit it. I misuse the English language sometimes. I occasionally puncture my e-mails with "gonnas" and "haftas." But by the same token, I don't think that the ambalance will supposably orientate itself in case of a mergency.

Some people would tell you that I'm just a snob when it comes to the use of proper English. As if my being a lawyer wasn't enough to make some people hate me outright. My argument, however, is that I KNOW the difference between the short cuts I use and "The Queen's English." Even though I'm a 'merican, I can choose whether to speak American or English, right?

Well, apparently the devolution of the English language is not occurring just in United States. A recent survey of teachers in the UK revealed that two-thirds of the test takers made basic mistakes regarding the placement of apostrophes, while 8 percent couldn't get the use of I and ME straight.

This is just plain sad. Am I being too harsh? Is it just a reality that our language will devolve into some bastard form of its original self? Will I, one day, listen to my grandchildren and wonder what the hell they're saying (minus the whole potential for needing a hearing aid, of course)?

Apparently we can't trust all of our teachers to TEACH our children the fundamentals. So, that leaves the blame with us for not making it a priority in our own lives.

I guess I'm not gonna take it any more. I guess it's going to be a long road ahead.

P.S. If you want to test your own knowledge, there's a link in the article to 10 of the questions asked of these teachers. Take the test before you read the full article, though, as the article contains some spoilers. I'm proud to say I got 10 out of 10.

When in Rome....

2006-11-13T09:20:00.000-05:00

I LOVE cynicism. It makes me laugh...and this article was just the ticket for me. Instead of news stories about Brit and K-Fed, this author decided to address how different the world would be if "familiar, comforting homespun proverbs were literally true."

He picked "every cloud has a silver lining," "a watched pot never boils," "a cat has nine lives," and "the pen is mightier than the sword" to address.

But he just wasn't cynical enough, damn it. So, here's my own stab at weakening some old proverbs:

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Have you ever been in a long distance relationship? If you have, you'll know that the reality is that "absence makes the loins grow hotter." Now, whether you can keep your pants on or not is not the subject of this proverb...but my heart certainly never grew "fonder" upon absence. Maybe "bitter" or "lonely," but never "fonder."

All's fair in love and war.

If this were literally true, then I don't think we'd be in such an uproar about the Iraq war. I mean, after all, we would've nuked the hell out of Saddam (instead of dragging him out of a hole) and then said, "well, all's fair Saddam. All's fair."

Of course, if all were fair in love, well, then we'd either all be good looking (e.g., fair), or every husband that forgot a birthday/anniversary, etc. would be off-the-hook. I don't think that's happening any time soon. Sorry guys.

An apple a day keeps the doctor away.

This proverb is old-fashioned and needs to be changed to keep up with the times. How about "No insurance today keeps the doctor away."

A rolling stone gathers no moss.

This might be a stretch, but what do you think lead to Mick Jagger's "throat problems?" The guy's so old I think moss has been growing inside of him.

Plus, you've got the Keith Richard's brain hemorrhage after falling out of a tree to gather coconuts. I bet there was MOSS on that tree...come on folks, why else would this otherwise "healthy" guy fall out of a tree? hmmm?

What's done can't be undone.

Bill Gates took care of this one. It's called "Ctrl-Z" or "undo."

Plus, if this were true, then what would be the point of "sending a message to the President" by allowing Democrat control of the House and the Senate? The American public clearly is seeking to debunk this proverb by their own voting ways....

But enough from me....Anyone care to debunk any of their favorites?

Life's Lessons

2006-11-07T12:40:00.000-05:00

So, I recently stumbled across this article, which points out the author's view on 8 important lessons learned from 80s cartoons.

The lessons include: (1) Communism works, (2) spinach is good for you, (3) knowing is half the battle, (4) trust no one, (5) it's OK to be gay, (6) grrls rock, (7) April O'Neil is really hot, and (8)if we're not careful robots will kill us all.

Extra bonus kudos if you can name the cartoons that taught each of these lessons without reading the article first. Sorry folk, no prizes on this blog.

I don't know about you, but cartoons in the 80s left me satisfied as an child, but now perplex me as an adult. In fact, the questions still burn inside me (and no, that's not the chili I ate for dinner last night). For example:

CURIOUS GEORGE: Just what was George so curious about? He just seemed to be mischievious to me. He didn't seem to want to get to the bottom of any societal questions or even want to delve into a greater understanding of his own actions. He was just hyper. That's it.

ALVIN AND THE CHIPMUNKS: What made Alvin the leader? Why did Simon and Theodore follow him so blindly? Simon was clearly smarter and Theodore clearly nicer. Last -- why am I not embarrassed to admit I owned almost every album (vinyl baby) released by these cartoon characters in the 80s?

HEATHCLIFF V. GARFIELD: Why was there no trademark battle between the owners of Heathcliff and Garfield? Who could have eaten more lasagna? Who would've won in a cat fight?

RAINBOW BRITE: Was she the start of the whole "rainbow" movement for the gay community?

CARE BEARS: Just why did they care so much?

If these are the things that keep my up at night, I'm in trouble once my daughter is old enough to watch the Wiggles, aren't I?

At last.....

2006-11-02T08:15:00.000-05:00

...my love has come along,
my lonely days over,
and life is like a song...

Etta James

Ok, Ok, I've been on a blogger break. Sporadic comments and not-even-sporadic writing. Sorry you all. I've just been UNMOTIVATED.

But, now my energy's back and I feel like writing again. Thanks for sticking with me folks.

Before I get into the meat of it, so to speak, I'll give you a little update (since Ben wanted to know how my "bump" was doing!):

I'm doing great and feeling great. I'm officially over half-way through my pregnancy. The Antidote and I just found out a few weeks ago that we're having a girl. I'm so excited. Even though the Antidote said he just wanted a healthy baby, I think a little part of him was wishing for a boy. During the ultrasound, when no "boy parts" were detected he leaned over, placed his hand on my leg and sweetly said, "You always get what you want don't you?"

My response was, naturally, "uh...yeah? It's taken you this long to realize it?" :-)

But enough about me....

**********************************

All of you guys out there that complain about there being no "truth in advertising" (because women are constantly trying to push, pull, tuck, and lift themselves to be beautiful) had better do some soul searching.

An Australian underwear maker with the brilliant name of Aussiebum has come up with the Wonderjock for men.

"The design of the underwear separates and lifts. The fabric cup protrudes everything out in front instead of down towards the ground."

I don't know about you, but I always thought men were supposed to go to the right or the left AND down...not out front. When I've seen one "out front," it's usually been at attention, so to speak! At any rate, men with size complexes may now have an option, other than stuffing old tube socks in there. Sure, you're falsely advertising the size of your...ahem...area, but how's that different from the Wonderbra?

I'm thinking that next on the agenda will be a market for making a man's hands and/or feet look bigger. After all, you know what they say about a man who has big hand/feet?

He wears big gloves/shoes.

Geographic Ignorance

2006-09-30T11:11:00.000-05:00

I'm sure plenty of other bloggers have written about this phenomenon in the past. But, it is something that continues to amaze me. Particularly here, in the United States, we seem to have some mental block toward learning geography outside of how to get from our house to the local liquor store in the quickest way possible. Not that this knowledge isn't useful, but you'd think people would be a little more interested in our place in the world.

The Antidote, if you didn't know it before, was born and raised in Canada. I'll admit that I didn't know much about Canada until I met him, but I certainly (a) knew where it was and (b) knew how large it was.

Apparently, I was well ahead of the learning curve, based on an e-mail I recently received that both made me laugh and cry.

Here's a reproduction:
*********************************************
Some of you may remember the saying "A stupid question deserves a stupid answer." Here it goes. Now that Vancouver has won the chance to host the 2010 Winter Olympics these are some questions people the world over are asking!!!!

Believe it or not these questions about Canada were posted on an International Tourism Website. The answers are a joke but the questions were really asked.

Q: I have never seen it warm on Canadian TV, so how do the plants grow?(UK)

A: We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around and watch them die.

Q: Will I be able to see Polar Bears in the street? (USA)

A: Depends on how much you've been drinking.

Q: I want to walk from Vancouver to Toronto-can I follow the railroad tracks? (Sweden)

A: Sure, it's only Four thousand miles, take lots of water.

Q: Is it safe to run around in the bushes in Canada? (Sweden)

A: So it's true what they say about Swedes.

Q: It is imperative that I find the names and addresses of places to contact for a stuffed Beaver. (Italy)

A: Let's not touch this one.

Q: Are there any ATM's (cash machines) in Canada? Can you send me a list of them in Toronto, Vancouver, Edmonton and Halifax? (UK)

A: What did your last slave die of?

Q: Can you give me some information about hippo racing in Canada? (USA)

A: A-Fri-ca is the big triangle shaped continent south of Europe. Ca-na-DA is that big country to your North... Oh forget it. Sure, the hippo racing is every Tuesday night in Calgary. Come naked.

Q: Which direction is North in Canada? (USA)

A: Face south and then turn 180 degrees. Contact us when you get here and we'll send the rest of the directions.

Q: Can I bring cutlery into Canada? (UK)

A: Why? Just use your fingers like we do.

Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys' Choir schedule? (USA)

A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is, oh forget it. Sure, the Vienna Boys Choir plays every Tuesday night in Vancouver and in Calgary, straight after the hippo races. Come naked.

Q: Do you have perfume in Canada? (Germany)

A: No, WE don't stink.

Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth. Can you tell me where I can sell it in Canada? (USA)

A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.

Q: Can you tell me the regions in British Columbia where the female population is smaller than the male population (Italy)

A: Yes, gay nightclubs.

Q: Do you celebrate Thanksgiving in Canada? (USA)

A: Only at Thanksgiving.

Q: Are there supermarkets in Toronto and is milk available all year round? (Germany)

A: No, we are a peaceful civilization of Vegan hunter/gathers. Milk is illegal.

Q:I have a question about a famous animal in Canada, but I forget its name. It's a kind of big horse with horns. (USA)

A: It's called a Moose. They are tall and very violent, eating the brains of anyone walking close to them. You can scare them off by spraying yourself with human urine before you go out walking.

Q: I was in Canada in 1969 on R+R, and I want to contact the girl I dated while I was staying in Surrey, BC. Can you help? (USA)

A: Yes, and you will still have to pay her by the hour.

Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? (USA)

A: Yes, but you will have to learn it first.

I'm Moving to Ulyanovsk

2006-09-23T06:14:00.000-05:00

Where in the world is Ulyanovsk, you ask? Oh, it's only in Russia.

My decision to move is precipitated by the Ulyanovsk governor's "Give Birth to a Patriot" campaign. In a recent move that would make John Holmes proud, the governor ordered workers in Ulyanovsk to "go home to your love one, relax, and let nature take its course."

Not only that, if you time it right and conceive in time to give birth on June 12 -- Russia's Independence Day -- you could win prizes ranging from appliances to a 4WD vehicle.

WOO HOO. Who doesn't want a day off to make whoopie? (That's a rhetorical question people). Add that fringe benefit onto the possibility of winning prizes? Well, hell, that makes Russia seem like a downright hospitable place to live.

The biggest move has come from President Putin, though. Apparently Putin has promised $9,599 to ever mother who gives birth to a second child.

Russian politicians are urging citizens to start, well, rushin' to the bedroom after census reports showed that there were 793,000 more deaths than births in 2004. Apparently people just aren't interested in procreating in a society where you have to stand in line for toilet paper. Imagine that.

So, I'm considering a move. We'll just have to see what the Antidote thinks about that.....

Germaphobe

2006-09-19T09:50:00.000-05:00

The Antidote and I went to Las Vegas this last weekend for my sister's wedding. Vegas is "ok" to me, but nothing all that exciting. Especially since I can't drink. UGH.

At one point during the trip, however, my sister and I are in the bathroom and she says to me, "When did we become such germaphobes?"

She was prompted to say this, of course, because we were both ferociously washing our hands after touching the slot machines in the casino.

I decided that we became germaphobes "back in the day" when mom told us never to sit on a public toilet seat. We were indoctrinated early into the "squat and hover" technique that most women use in public restrooms. The fact that we lived overseas for so long during our childhood really helped...since a lot of public restrooms in Asia consist of porcelain around a hole in the ground. You have no option BUT to squat and hover.

It turns out that I chose a good career for a germaphobe. According to some freaky survey, lawyers have the least germy desks, when compared to teachers, accountants, bankers, radio DJs, doctors, television producers, consultants, and publicists. Why they picked this list of professions, I have no idea.

After all this time, I was convinced my mom wanted me to become a lawyer because it was a "respectable" job. Now I know the real truth.

What I Was Doing...and What I Am Doing

2006-09-11T07:03:00.000-05:00

I arrived at the parking garage to my office building this morning at 6:00 a.m., realizing that I left my damn office keys and badge at home. Sure, they'll let me in the building...at 8:00 a.m. So, I had to drive the 30 minutes home, get my act together, and drive back.

I also realized, as I was refueling my car this morning, that I couldn't find one of my credit cards. Great.

All in all -- I'm thinking to myself -- this is a pretty shitty day.

But while in the car, and now after looking over some other Bloggers sites, I'm a little ashamed of myself.

I realized this morning that it was 9/11, but it wasn't the first thing that crossed my mind. I don't feel bad about that...I feel glad that things have moved on to the point where it's not the first thing I think of any more. But, I'm a little embarrassed that I was feeling so sorry for myself for my silly little issues, when others are truly hurting today.

So, I take a moment to remember what I was doing then:

On this day, 5 years ago, I was working for a law firm in Washington, D.C. I was only a few blocks from the White House...a really beautiful part of the city. I had an early teleconference with people in New York. As we're going on about the deregulation of the electric and natural gas industries (riveting, I know), one of the guys that is in New York said, "Hey, something just happened to the World Trade Center." All the jabbering stopped as we waited for him to report what happened. Luckily, he was not near the twin towers, but was watching CNN when it all happened. We hear him gasp and he says, "I've got to go."

At that moment, we all terminate the phone call. I call out to the other people in the office -- they already had the TV on. We watched the events unfold with horror.

Then we felt the building shake. We didn't get it. Newscasters were reporting rumors that the State Department had been hit. Outside one of the partner's windows we see smoke rising from the direction of the Pentagon. We didn't realize what it was at that time, but found out later.

About 5 minutes later, as we are all shocked and trying to figure out what to do, the Secret Service entered our building and told everyone to evacuate because of our proximity to the White House.

One of the other attorneys welcomed me into her home...she lived about 10 blocks away. I did not know how I would get back to Virginia. As we walked in silence to her house, I alternately tried calling my husband and my National Guard unit. I knew my husband was safe...I wasn't sure I was so safe. And I wasn't even sure how much time I would have to see him if my Guard unit was mobilized to take care of whatever needed to be done.

Hours later I finally reached my husband...and the rest of my family. We thanked God that everyone we personally knew was ok. I reached my Guard unit...we were not going to be called up. After receipt of that news, I was finally able to get on the Metro to go home. My husband and I were near tears when we saw each other...so happy to be together, safe and sound.

But, it all comes full circle to what I am doing now...

As I told you above, I was in a crappy mood today until I realized just how lucky I am. I'm lucky to be alive, to have a beautiful house, to have the most amazing husband in the world, to be employed, and most of all ... and yes, this is new news fellow Bloggers ... I'm lucky to be almost 15 weeks pregnant. The Antidote and I are expecting our first child some time around March 5, 2007.

So, I REFUSE to mourn today. Don't look upon my harshly. Of course, I mourn for all of those families and people that are not as lucky to have gotten through 9/11 as unscathed as I did. But I mourn for them every day.

Instead, I choose to celebrate life today. To celebrate my life, the lives of those I love, the lives of those I don't know who deserve to be loved..and the little life growing inside of me.

And yes, today I will even celebrate the lives of those I hate and the lives of those whom I don't know, but who deserve to be hated...because to me, that's the best slap in the face of all. Five years ago those terrorists tried to steal our lives, our love, and our honor. Don't let them do it. Don't let them win.

We Get By With A Little Help From Our Friends....

2006-08-29T15:34:00.000-05:00

Ok, I know. I've been a bad bad blogger. I just haven't found that muse yet. Even though I've been searching for her high and low. She's hiding...somewhere. If you find her over at your blog, please chastise her and send her back to mine.

I've had a lot going on in life....something that I will most likely choose to reveal at some later point. But, given my penchant for avoiding personal issues, I am, instead, using the scattered few who still bother to read this blog to help a friend.

WARNING: Shameless plug to follow.

Ok, so it doesn't hurt that a friend of mine is running a contest to "encourage" her friends to help her promote her new e-book. But really, the free box of books she's offering would just be added to the 20+ books on my shelf that I swear I'll "get to" by the end of the year.

Her name is Amanda Brice, and she's recently fallen into some success with her writing. Since most bloggers are either real writers trying to "make it" or people secretly-wishing-they-had-the-balls-to-be-real-writers trying to make it, I thought you all might appreciate her desire to promote herself.

One of her short stories was recently picked up by a small non-subsidy publishing house called Freya's Bower. It's neat because they don't print publish, they only e-publish, but they pay out royalties and everything. Freya's Bower primarily publishes erotica and romantica.

Amanda was hoping her friends would spread the word -- so that's what this is all about. Amanda's writing is in the "Chick Lit" genre. Think "Bridget Jones' Diary." Her story is entitled "She's Got Legs," and was an engaging read. (Yes, I read it...and yes, I paid the $2.00 for it online). So, if you're in the mood for some "chick lit," please check it out. It's fun...and at 18 pages, you can read it in the blink of an eye.

Here's a blurb of the book:

SHE'S GOT LEGS by Amanda Brice

Daria Wyatt didn't want to go to her fifteen-year high school reunion. Although she has blossomed from a wallflower into a powerful Capitol Hill attorney, she knew seeing those girls in person wouldn't exactly do wonders for her self-esteem. If only her younger sister Kara hadn't insisted she go. Giving in to shut her sister up, Daria borrows Kara's high heels in an effort to jumpstart her confidence. But in her rush to get out the door, she picks up the wrong pair, a butt-ugly purple platform creation with bright green sequins...

Greg McCauley can't believe his bad luck. He finally meets a beautiful, intelligent, intriguing, confident woman, but she rushes off before he can get her number. He knows he should put her out of his mind, but there's just something about her. Those lips, those eyes, those legs, those crazy shoes...

If you're interested, you can order the book here. It's a whopping $2.00. Come on, you can afford it.

If you're interested in knowing more about the elusive Amanda Brice, check out an interview with here here, or check out her blog

Re-labeling

2006-08-14T07:52:00.000-05:00

Apparently there is quite a hullaballo in geekdom about whether or not Pluto should be considered a planet.

I guess this debate has been going on for decades, as some astronomers consider the smallest "planet" in our solar system to be something other than a "planet." Suggestions have ranged from deleting it from our roles as a planet to calling it an "ice dwarf planet."

The real controversy arose, however, when the heavenly body Xena was discovered. (No, I'm not referring to Lucy Lawless -- although she is quite fetching. Although, her character Xena the Warrior Princess is who the discoverer named the celestial object after. Please see my reference to "geekdom" above for further clarification.)

Astronomers are hoping a unified answer will come out of the next Star Trek conference. Well, not really, but there is going to be a meeting of the International Astronomical Union in Prague. Same thing, in my mind. Participants in the 12-day conference will decide on the definition of "planet," and whether the science we've been learning for years is wrong.

All in all, I personally don't really care what happens with good ol' Pluto. After all, since I'm a product of public school systems, it took me years to realize that Pluto and "Bluto" from Popeye were different things.

But, imagine the ramifications of this type of relabeling. I mean, if we're so concerned about the labels being applied to celstial bodies, what's going to happen when word of this spreads? Think about it:

Countries: We could redefine the term "country" to include only desirable traits. As a result, Bahrain would lose its country status as long as Michael Jackson resided there. Cuba would be deleted from the roles as long as Castro insisted on wearing a Harlem Globetrotters uniform for pictures regarding his health. Fictitious Zemunda would become a country because, well, who wouldn't like a country that has Eddie Murphy as a prince and James Earl Jones as a lion wearing king?

Sports: If today's growing younger population had a say, video gaming would top the list of sports as soon as a relabeling took effect. After all, who wouldn't eschew the traditional P.E. class for a little X-Box time? Likely, Ice Dancing would no longer hold the coveted sports title because, well, isn't it the same as ice skating?

Political Parties: We could just do away with the Republican Party, the Democratic Party, and even the Green Party. We could just call all sides whiners. This would lead to classification based on issue, instead of having to limit yourself to one particular party. You could be a part of the whiner-about-taxes party or a part of the whiner-about-abortion party. To me, the system would be a lot less restrictive that way...and you could belong to multiple whiner-parties, which would result in several $1,000 plate dinner invitations in a year.

You're probably thinking, "Surely, Curare can't be serious?" Well, my only response to you is, "I am serious, and don't call me Shirley."

The Divinyls Dream....

2006-08-08T09:04:00.000-05:00

You remember the song, "I Touch Myself," by the Divinyls, don't you? Well, it will soon become the theme song for the expected 200 people who will participate in Europe's first ever "Masturbate-a-thon."

I don't believe Jerry Lewis would approve.

According to the website, "The amount of money you raise will be determined by how many minutes you masturbate and/or how many orgasms you achieve."

Apparently, the current world record is eight hours and thirty minutes. WOW. I'd need some serious sleep and probably more than a few turkey sandwiches to replace all that lost energy.

Apparently, you have to be over 18, and you can bring any aids you need to help you. And no -- you can't masturbate someone else. This has to be a solo act. However, you're welcome to bring yourself to climax in any one of three different rooms: a mixed area, a men's only room, and a women only room. But, there will be screened areas for "private masturbators."

My question: are you really going to be a "private masturbator" if you go out for this thing? I mean, you're willing to COME FOR A CAUSE (that's the slogan) in public. Doesn't that immediately negate any claims to being a "private" masturbator?

Or, that being said, isn't everyone a private masturbator? I mean, what can you masturbate...other than your privates?

In case you're curious, Masturbate-a-thons have a history....they've been staged in San Francisco for the last 6 years and have raised $25,000 for women's health initiatives and HIV prevention. So, if you're not looking to travel to Europe any time soon, don't fret. You'll be able to COME FOR A CAUSE right here in the US of A.

Dangerous Situation

2006-08-04T07:31:00.000-05:00

I received this via e-mail ... Author Unknown ... but hilariously funny nonetheless:

You are on a horse, galloping at a constant speed.

On your right side is a sharp drop off.

On your left side is an elephant traveling at the same speed as you.

Directly in front of you is a galloping kangaroo, which your horse is unable to overtake.

Behind you is a lion running at the same speed as you and the kangaroo.

What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?

GET YOUR DRUNK ASS OFF THE MERRY-GO-ROUND.

Don't Worry, I've Got Your Back.

2006-08-02T07:30:00.000-05:00

With each passing day, my connection with my sordid past becomes more and more attenuated. I mean, I never would have used the words "sordid" or "attenuated" in a sentence in college. Never.

And as I reminisce about those moments, I'm inexplicably drawn back to the bar fights. Yes, the bar fights.

That was back in the day, when I didn't realize that tequila is an evil, evil substance when not mixed with Cointreau and margarita mix. That was back in the day, when I relished being in clubs that were so packed with people you could barely sway to the music.

A recent scientific discovery has shed some light on my shady recollection of those days, however. There is a good reason for the surly, aggressive behavior I exhibited in those wish-they-had-been-more-rare bar fight moments: it was the crowds. It's all THEIR fault.

Apparently, scientists have discovered that ants are more aggressive when in gangs. That's right. Ants fight easier knowing their friends have their back. Or is it back(s)? Does each segment of an ant's exoskeleton have a back, or are they all combined into one back? These are the things that make you go hmmmmm.

At any rate, this discovery makes me feel better about my former behavior. It wasn't my hormones...it was because that girl really was looking at me funny...and I knew someone, anyone, had my back.

This scientific discovery has many implications beyond the ant world. Just think about it:

Lebanon/Israel: we could probably solve this whole thing if we just take some of the people from more crowded areas, and then put them in more desolate areas. (Wait...isn't that what got us into this in the first place?)

Gang Wars: hello?! You never hear about the scourge of gangs in such highly populated areas as the Northwest Territories of Canada. Ship gang members there instead of to overcrowded prisons. They'll come back reformed and knowing how to hide from bears.

Sports: Just making the seats a little farther apart in a stadium may stop the insanity of trampling. Of course, it would also make it harder for the beer guy to get you your beer, which could result in a new scourge of surliness.

The end lesson? Give each other some space people. But always know, I've got your back.

I'm BACK!

2006-08-01T08:04:00.000-05:00

Ok, so things slowed down to a molasses like crawl here on Poisonous Points. Work got crazy (i.e., I actually needed to do some work) and I neglected my blog.

My poor little blog. It feels so neglected.

So to make matters worse, instead of posting something of import here, I heeded the Siren's call and am guest posting on Beauty v. The Beast with the ever amazing PHOENIX.

Check it out. More to come here soon...just let me choke down another cup of Hemlock to get my brain functioning again......

It's All in Your Name

2006-07-12T08:36:00.000-05:00

Apparently, your name can tell people something about you. It doesn't just tell people that your parents are unoriginal, or that they had serious drug issues in the 60s. No, apparently your name determines your personality, your strengths, your weaknesses, your nature, your physical health...everything about you. In fact, you can change your destiny by simply picking a more Balanced Name™.

According to the The Kabalarian Philosophy, "life does not need to be punctuated with a question mark." A simple mathematical evaluation of the letters in your name can reveal your past, present, and future. From what I understand, the principles are similar to those found in numerology.

Oh -- despite the etymological similarity, Kabalarians are not to be confused with people who practice Kabbalah.

Now, I am not one to automatically discredit things I don't understand. I've always hoped someone or something would provide me the key to the door of life. I don't consider myself a skeptic, but rather a realist. I've got to see proof first.

However, my interest was piqued when I read the story of Darryl R. Peebles. There are two Darryl R. Peebles in the world...one an American, one an Australian. The two found each other after the American Peebles typed his name into an Internet search engine and found the Australian Peebles.

According to the article I read, the similarities don't end with their names:

Both born in 1949

Both have three children.

Both have a child born in 1975.

Both have a child born in 1977.

Both of their fathers both came from small towns and worked on lathes of some kind.

Both are keen performers, and enjoyed magic, ventriloquism and playing music.

So, this led me to seek a Kabalarian analysis of my first name (not Curare, but rather my REAL first name...*GASP*). The Kabalarian Philosophy reveals the following about me:

(1) Even though your name creates the urge to be artistically creative and original, we emphasize that it causes an emotional intensity that is hard to control.

(2) This name, when combined with the last name, can frustrate happiness, contentment, and success, as well as cause health weaknesses in the nervous system, and tension or accidents to the head.

(3) Your name creates a dual nature in that you can be very generous and understanding, but you can also be so candid in your expression that you create misunderstanding.

(4) You struggle with the requirement to soften your expression with tact and diplomacy and to consider the feelings of others.

(5) Difficulty in accepting advice or admitting that you may have made a mistake causes you to appear to be stubborn and set in your ways. Thus, you have too often created the wrong impression, and friendships have suffered.

I didn't go on to pay $$$ to have my "full name" analyzed, but I have to say that this is frighteningly like me. Except for #2. That one is just dead wrong. Some people would tell you they believe I've had many "accidents to the head," but I hearilty deny that statement.

Amazing or ridiculous? I leave that to you to decide.

It's All About Stamina

2006-07-10T05:37:00.000-05:00

I'm exhausted. Things have been hectic and life has just caught up with me. My muse and my mind left me momentarily.

But I take heart. I am regaining my motivation. These shining examples of incredible stamina make me want to jump up and get moving....

CURARE-Z'S STAMINA AWARD WINNER RUNNER-UP

Fertility treatments (and stamina) helped this woman give birth to her 4th child, at 62 years old. The woman was 62 years old -- not the baby, people. This makes her the oldest British woman to have a baby. To put it into perspective: she will be 72 when her child is 10 years old (around 4th grade), she will be 80 when her child graduates from high school, and she will be lucky if she makes it to her child's wedding.....

CURARE-Z'S STAMINA AWARD WINNER

An AH HA Moment

2006-06-29T05:46:00.000-05:00

Do you remember those old cartoons we used to watch as kids? They were clean and wholesome. When a character had a brilliant idea, a light bulb would appear over their heads and magically blink on and off.

Well, that childhood image has been completely destroyed by this guy.

Fateh Mohammad, a prison inmate in Pakistan, recently underwent surgery to have a glass light bulb removed from his anus.

Yes, I said anus.

The worst part about the ordeal is that Mohammad didn't know it was there. He woke up to a pain in his abdomen and was told in the hospital what the cause of his pain was.

Yeah. Pain in his abdomen. Uh huh. Sure, Mohammad.

Mohammad claims that someone must have drugged him and shoved the bulb up there while we was comatose. I'm not buying it....and neither are the doctors.

In the understatement of the year, the doctor that performed this delicate surgery is quoted as saying: "We had to take it out intact...Had it been broken inside, it would be a very very complicated situation."

Getting to Know Me....Getting to Know All About Me...

2006-06-22T07:34:00.000-05:00

I stole this survey from Perplexio, who stole this from bearette24. Admittedly, I've eliminated some of the questions because, well, 44 questions it too many.

At any rate, since I've broken my rule about "not blogging about myself," I figure I might as well REALLY break the rule. (I'm an all or nothing kind of gal, I guess). Plus, I'm in a great mood because The Antidote and I closed on our new house yesterday. So, in the interest of sharing:

Which curse word do you use the most?

Which curse word do I use the least, is probably the question. I love the word f*ck, for it's various uses and for the looks it gets from passerbys when you yell it at the top of your lungs.

What time is your alarm clock set for?

I'm lucky, I have a flexible schedule at work....so, it varies. Generally my alarm goes off at 4:30 a.m. But, much to The Antidote's chagrin, I rarely get up at that time. I try to get out of the house by 5:30 - 6:00 a.m....and I do that on most days. But sometimes I don't roll out until 7:30 a.m. or 8:00 a.m. Either that, or I call in -- *cough* *cough* -- "SICK."

How many suitcases do you own?

Tons of various sizes, but I have three that I primarily use. First, my big, pseudo hardshell suitcase for traveling to nasty places, like India, where it is ideally suited for the conditions, e.g., your bag is likely to be tossed in a puddle of human urine and you want to keep the urine out. Then, I have my "fits in the overhead compartment of airplane and is just big enough for the number of tank tops and shorts needed for a week of debauchery in Mexico" suitcase. Last, I have my fancy Louis Vuitton set for traveling to anywhere else.

What was the last movie you watched?

The Ringer...this is the Johnny Knoxville movie where they fix the special olympics. It was, suprisingly, funny WITH a message. (FYI -- that message is NOT "make fun of disadvantaged kids at every chance you get," but rather of the "we're people too" ilk.)

Has anyone ever called you lazy?

Of course not. They've always come up with much more colorful ways to tell me when I'm sloth-like.

Do you ever take medication to help you sleep?

Does gin count as a type of "medication?"

Which CD is currently in your CD player?

I own an IPOD silly. CD players are for kids.

Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk?

MMMM..chocolate. And since they've come out with chocolate skim milk...mmmm....even better.

Has anyone told you a secret this week?

If I told you that would be breaking the trust now, wouldn't it?

Can you whistle?

Only while I work...damn dwarves.

Are you shy around the opposite sex?

HA HA HA HA HA. Me, shy?! You've got to know me, though, to know why this is the funniest question, ever. I'm about as shy as a peep show.

Which movie(s) do you know every line to?

The Breakfast Club. "Does Barry MAnilow know you raided his wardrobe?"

Ever cry in public?

Whaddya think I am, a girl? Oh wait. I am a girl. Uh, I plead the 5th.

When is the last time you slept on the floor?

Does passing out count? If so, how am I supposed to remember? I passed out...DUH!!

Do you use sarcasm?

No. Wait, that was saracstic, wasn't it?

How old will you be on your next birthday?

*GASP* 32

Do you get along better with the same sex or the opposite sex?

This question presupposes I get along with anyone...which is a big presupposition.

One of your scars--how did you get it?

I was born with a dislocated hip. So, at the ripe old age of about 1.5, I had to go into skeletal traction in the hospital. As a result, I have 4 scars of equal size, one on each side of my thigh. But telling people that is just too boring. Since my mom is Chinese and my dad is Caucasian, I look just barely Asian enough for people to ask "what I am." I tell them about how dad was a soldier in Vietnam and met my mom while on R&R in Taiwan. Since most people think Asians are all alike, they forget that Taiwan and Vietnam aren't the same country. So, to explain my scars, I tell a merry tale of how dad smuggled mom and I out of Vietnam in his rucksack while bullets were flying. I took one straight through both legs...and didn't even shout out.

And believe it or not...some people think that story is true.

Oh the Humanity!!

2006-06-16T10:06:00.000-05:00

I heard about this story on the radio this morning and its been eating at me.

Apparently the Whole Foods chain of grocery stores is no longer going to carry live lobsters. After a seven month study, Whole Foods has determined that keeping live lobsters in a tank at the grocery store is inhumane.

Initially I thought, "who cares?" But then I realized that I care. I care greatly that my choices as to where to buy lobster are being diminished by a group of people that believe that lobsters need to be treated with respect and compassion. I mean, what's so inhumane about these living conditions?

I swear this is where they filmed Joe Versus The Volcano. Either that, or it's the same apartment I lived in during college. If it's the latter, I can tell you that the lobster in the corner of this picture was a total bitch.

At any rate, it's all about perspective. This little guy is so happy that he's doing claw stands...

...and he's not even in one of the little "lobster condos" that were part of the study. So, I don't know what these animal rights people are concerned about.

Besides, is it compassionate for a lobster to try and pinch your fingers off when you're trying to shove it into a pot of boiling water? I don't think so. I see it all as merely self-defense. It's either the lobster, or you.

The best part is that Whole Foods still intends to sell frozen raw and cooked lobster products. As The Antidote so aptly put it, "what, are they going to dope it up by i.v. before killing it?" What's so humane about freezing? Perhaps the Inuit have a different view on freezing, but I believe most of the population feels that it would suck.

And how do they think the lobster has been cooked before it was frozen? How DO you humanely cook something? At a low temperature? On broil?

I bet Whole Foods and I agree on one thing, though. No one, and I mean no one, should tolerate dressing like a lobster. There's just nothing funny about that.

Drink Up!

2006-06-13T05:08:00.000-05:00

While it shall never be said that I don't like to imbibe every once in awhile, I am concerned about my health. I'm well aware of the need to curb alcohol consumption. After all, my dad completely quit drinking the day his doctor told him to quit or have his liver buried with separate honors.

But there is hope on the horizon for the borderline drunk. Apparently, new studies have shown that coffee may reduce the risk of cirrhosis!

As if I needed any more reasons to go to Starbucks. Now my obsession with the franchise is totally legitimized.

Although the study author reports that "the way to avoid getting ill is not to drink a lot of coffee, but to cut down on the drinking," his warning rings hollow to me. Although he and his fellow researchers aren't quite sure WHY coffee helps, their study showed that one cup of coffee per day reduced the risk of cirrhosis by 20%, while four cups per day reduced the risk by 80%.

I'm pretty sure that the reason coffee helps your liver is due, in no small part, to the excessive purging of your system that occurs after drinking coffee. Who hasn't been told to "drink a cup of coffee" when the, umm...how do I say this....plumbing is all backed up?

So, I say, don't curb that hang over with a Bloody Mary in the morning. Have a cup of coffee -- or four. Your liver may thank you for it.

P.S. For you men that are concerned about your health, read up on the study that shows that a mere 17 beers per day may help you stave off prostate cancer.

Girls Night

2006-06-09T06:13:00.000-05:00

Two women friends had gone for a "girls night out." They both were very faithful, loving wives... however, they had gotten a bit over enthusiastic on Bacardi Breezers.

Incredibly drunk and walking home, they needed to pee, so they stopped in a cemetery. One had nothing to wipe with so she decided to take off her panties and use them. Her friend, however, was wearing expensive panties and didn't want to ruin them...luckily she had squatted next to a grave that had a fresh wreath with a ribbon on it...so she proceeded to wipe with that.

After the girls completed their "business" they continued toward home.

The following day, one of the women's husband was concerned that his normally sweet and innocent wife was still in bed and hung over. He phoned the other husband, and said "These girls nights out have got to stop! I'm starting to suspect the worst! My wife came home with no panties!"...

"That's nothing!" said the other husband, mine came back with a card stuck to her butt that read:

"FROM ALL OF US AT THE FIRE STATION... WE WILL NEVER FORGET YOU"

Livin' La Vida Loca

2006-06-07T07:00:00.000-05:00

Yes, I'm alive...but no, I'm not Ricky Martin. Sorry to disappoint my female readers. In fact, I'm far from it.

Things have been hectic and I haven't had time to construct any coherent sentences. Between buying a new house, selling our current house, getting stupid drunk on Friday, and then getting hit in the face with a softball yesterday, it's been...busy.

Although the real story is probably about how a simple Friday dinner with friends resulted in WWF-style wrestling on our living room floor, I can't really remember enough details to regale you with.

So, instead, you get to hear about the "softball incident".

We started playing softball for the beer afterwards. We play on a corporate co-ed team and all of the players are over 30 (or quickly approaching 30), and have serious desk jobs. So, at least one of us gets hurt every game. Sad, I know.

I was relegated to playing catcher because I have, basically, no eye hand coordination. If I know the ball is being thrown at me, I'm ok. Catching a fly ball, or worse, line drive...it's not happening.

Yesterday was the first game of the season. Given that the only reason we didn't come in last in the league last year was because another team decided to forefeit the season, our hopes were high.

Our first game actually went REALLY well. I think we won 14 - 5. Mind you, it was not because of our skill...but rather because the other team stunk. At any rate, a good pitch comes in, I catch it in my mitt...and instead of trapping it with my other hand, I let it bounce out of my mitt and hit my lip.

Not the smartest thing I've ever done. I immediately taste blood. So, what do I do? I dab it with my shirt repeatedly and finish out the inning. Then, I put ice on it. Then, I go to bat and actually hit a single (that NEVER happens to me). Then, we have a weird string of luck and I actually get to run in. Wow.

More ice on the face. Other team members take my place as catcher so I can continue to ice my face. As people realize I've actually hurt myself, they start telling me, "Really, it looks fine. Sort of like Angelina Jolie....Well, sort of...."

I go to bat again and strike out (more my style). More ice on my face.

The Antidote is starting to look REALLY worried. "Curare," he says (well, he doesn't call me Curare, but work with me), "I think we need to go to the emergency room. That might need stitches."

As the first game is over and we have enough people to field the second game, we jump in the car. The first look I get at my face I realize, I DO look like Angelina Jolie...

...except her lips are sexy swollen. And only one half of my top lip is swollen...and has a gaping cut in it. Not so sexy.

We tried several urgent care facilities on the way to the emergency room. On a side note, why is it that urgent care facilities are only open during "business hours." I mean, what's so urgent about getting sick during the day when your doctor can see you?! At any rate, we get the emergency room...the triage desk asks me what the problem is...and I pull the ice away from my face.

"OOHHH." Nice reaction lady. So, I fill out the paperwork and under "reason for emergency" I write: Took a softball to the face, have a fat lip that probably needs stitches.

Everyone gets a kick out of reading that for some reason. The Antidote is sitting next to me, feeling like everyone is looking at him as the battering husband. At least we have our matching jerseys on.

So, after only waiting about an hour, I get in to see a PA. She tells me I'm "lucky" because the cut does not cross my lip, but rather, is on the inside of my lip. No stitches, just keep it clean.

I can do that.

When I get up this morning, I realize that it doesn't look that bad. Well, that is, if "not bad" means it looks like I have a raging case of herpes on my lip. Lucky me.

Now, the Antidote wants to buy me a mask. Great, now I'll be like the kid in school that had to wear a football helmet every day because he falls down so much. It's great to be me.

People Say the Darndest Things, Part Deux

2006-05-30T06:40:00.000-05:00

Back in March I posted some examples of the stupid stuff people do and say...because...well, I can.

Without further ado, here's part...Deux (yes, typing that made me feel like Austin Powers allowing himself to introduce...himself).

DUMPSTER DIVING CULT
This is new to me, but apparently there is a new lifestyle called, Freeganism. Freeganism is a combination of the words "Free," "Vegan," and "ism." Freegan practitioners are basically a rejuvenation of flower children from the 60s. Their goal is to reveal human overconsumption and waste. Ash Falkingham, a self proclaimed Freegan had this to say:

"Everything I eat comes from dumpsters."

Ash sounds like a wise, wise man. Click here if you, too, want to eat from dumpsters.

THE NEW SCOURGE IN SCHOOLS
A middle school student in Pennsylvania was suspended for three days after sharing chewing gum containing caffeine with a fellow student. The school superintendent was outraged with this girl's behavior and concerned about her students' health:

"What if the gum had been given to a student with a heart condition?"

And what if that student then stuck that gum under the desk of another student that took that gum, combined it with several household products and made a bomb out of it? Ok, so that's only realistic if the kid was named MacGuyver, but still...

CAT NAP OR QUEST FOR POLITICAL ASYLUM
Apparently, cat naps can take you far. Well, at least for this cat it did. Chairman Miaow (yes, that's the cat's name) fell asleep in a crate in China...and ended up in Britain. According to the staff members that found her:

"She loves to be petted and fussed over. I'm not surprised after all that time alone in the box."

You don't think she likes to be petted and fussed over because, oh, I dunno...she's a cat?

BE A MAN
Dan McBride, the assistant athletic director at Eastern Kentucky University, screams like a girl. Or at least I suspect that's what observers noted when McBride discovered that the snake in his passenger seat wasn't a fake. McBride's colleague, who is not a Nobel Prize winner, commented on the incident:

"You can't act tough when you are sitting a foot and a half away from a snake."

True dat. True dat.

AND THE WINNER IS....

I SMELL SEX AND...CIGARETTES?

Australian brothel owners are teaming up to seek an exemption to anti-smoking laws. Why? Well, according to William Albon, who is a member of the Australian Adult Entertainment Industry:

"People smoke when they drink, and people smoke when they fornicate..."

Well said William. Well said. If he ever decides to leave the adult entertainment industry, William has a definite future as the new spokesman for Phillip Morris.

Eulogy for a Beloved

2006-05-26T08:03:00.000-05:00

I didn't write this, so I can't take credit for it. But it's perfect for a Friday.....

Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.

Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours.

Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he was still a crusty old man and considered a positive roll model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, who have one grandchild in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.

The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

BFF

2006-05-24T07:25:00.000-05:00

This is Rory. He’s my BFF. Yes, I’m a 31-year-old woman, who thinks that her dog is her best friend...forever (or 4-EVA if you’re still stuck in the 80s). If you don’t believe me, ask Amulet…who will probably groan audibly when he finds out what this post is about.

That’s Rory P. Kins to you, David.

In late April or early May 2005, I told the Antidote I was ready to have kids. We bought Rory about 2 weeks later. Despite the fact that this effectively staved my constant nagging about children, I’m not sure The Antidote was quite prepared for my obsession with my BFF.

Last night, he looked at me and said, “Do you know what dogs are? They’re little babies that never grow up.” He was prompted to say this by the sight of Rory sound asleep on my chest, leaning into the crook of my arm. I had him completely cuddled, laying on his back, looking like a furry mutant baby.

But, that’s not the extent of my BFF-ness. I sing songs to Rory. I make them up as I go along, e.g., “Breakfast for Rory dog, Breakfast for Rory.” I also fill Rory’s name into songs I hear on the radio. Take, for example, the U2 classic: “I Still Haven’t Found What Rory’s Looking For.” If I don’t know the lyrics to a song, then the song just becomes repeated instances of “Rory Rory Rory Rory Ror” to the tune.

I rush home from work every day to see Rory. No matter how I’m feeling when I put the key in the lock, when Rory greets me at the door I’m immediately brightened. He doesn’t care if I have a bad hair day, or if I spent two hours on the phone with some jerk who just won’t let an issue drop. All he cares is that I’m home, he gets to go outside, and, well…that I’m home.

It’s that unconditional love that makes Rory my BFF. Yes, he pisses me off sometimes. Like when I came home to find The Antidote’s Sudoku book strewn in 2 million pieces across the house. Or when we figured out that he was chewing the wood molding in the kitchen. But it’s that face...

...that makes me laugh every time.

Not that it makes me love him any less, but I just found out this morning that my BFF is a murderer. We’d always suspected, ever since we caught him with a dead mouse. But this morning, The Antidote bore witness to Rory’s killer instinct. The Antidote, wrapped only in a towel, glanced outside...

...to make sure Rory wasn’t getting into anything. He witnessed Rory clip a bird and then pounce on it. It was very dead by the time The Antidote could throw on some clothes and get outside. Gross.

I can’t believe my BFF is a murderer. But I'll stick by him, no matter what. Despite his eclectic taste for raw bird meat, I'll keep him by my side because:

Oh, I get by with a little help from my Rory.

Mm, I get high with a little help from my Rory.

Mm, gonna try with a little help from my Rory.

(Ok, so the Beatles didn't know Rory and I don't get "high" with help from Rory...it's just a song, ok people? I never said my altered song lyrics made sense.)

Memories

2006-05-22T08:50:00.000-05:00

I received an e-mail from my sister recently which sent us into a neurotic flurry of "do you remember" e-mails. The subject matter of the original e-mail was so funny I thought I would share it:

IF YOU WERE A LITTLE GIRL IN THE 70'S...

1. You had that Fisher Price Doctor's Kit with a stethoscope that actually worked.

2. You owned a bicycle with a banana seat and a plastic basket with flowers on it.

3. You learned to skate with actual skates (not roller blades) that had metal wheels.

4. You thought Gopher from Love Boat was cute (admit it!)

5. You had nightmares after watching Fantasy Island.

6. You had rubber boots for rainy days and Moon boots for snowy days.

7. You owned a "Slip-n-Slide," on which you injured yourself on a sprinkler head more than once.

8. You owned "Klick-Klacks" and smacked yourself in the face more than once.

9. You had either a "bowl cut" or "pixie," not to mention the "Dorothy Hamill."

10. People sometimes thought you were a boy.

11. Your Holly Hobbie sleeping bag was your most prized possession.

12. You wore a poncho, gauchos, and/or knickers.

13. You begged Santa for the electronic game, Simon.

14. You had the Donnie and Marie dolls with those pink and purple satiny shredded outfits.

15. You spent hours in your backyard on your metal swing set with the trapeze. The swing set tipped over at least once.

16. You had homemade ribbon barrettes in every imaginable color.

17. You had a pair of Doctor Scholl's sandals (the ones with hard sole & the buckle).

18. You wanted to be Laura Ingalls Wilder really bad; you wore that Little House on the Prairie-inspired plaid, ruffle shirt with the high neck in at least one school picture; and you despised Nellie Olson!

19. You wanted your first kiss to be at a roller rink.

20. Your hairstyle was described as having "wings" or "feathers" and you kept it "pretty" with the comb you kept in your back pocket. Then, when you walked, the "wings" flapped up and down, looked like you were gonna "take off."

21. You know who Strawberry Shortcake is, as well as her friends, Blueberry Muffin and Huckleberry Pie.

22. You carried a Muppets lunch box to school and it was metal, not plastic. With the thermos inside!

23. You and your girlfriends would fight over which of the Dukes of Hazzard was your boyfriend.

24. YOU had Star Wars action figures, too!

25. It was a big event in your household each year when the "Wizard of Oz" would come on TV. Your mom would break out the popcorn and sleeping bags!

26. You often asked your Magic-8 ball the question: "Who will I marry. Shaun Cassidy, Leif Garrett, or David Cassidy..?

27. You completely wore out your Grease, Saturday Night Fever, and Fame soundtrack record album.

28. You tried to do lots of arts and crafts, like yarn and Popsicle-stick God's eyes, decoupage, or those weird potholders made on a plastic loom.

29. You made Shrinky-Dinks and put iron-on kittens on your t-shirts!

30. You used to tape record songs off the radio by holding your portable tape player up to the speaker.

31. You had subscriptions to Dynamite and Tiger Beat.

32. You learned everything you needed to know about girl issues from Judy Blume books (Are you there God, It's me, Margaret.)

33. You thought Olivia Newton John's song "Physical" was about aerobics.

34. You wore friendship pins on your tennis shoes, or shoelaces with heart or rainbow designs.

35. You wanted to be a Solid Gold dancer.

36. You drowned yourself in Love's Baby Soft - which was the first "real" perfume you ever owned...

37. You glopped your lips in Strawberry Roll-on lip gloss till it almost dripped off.

*** WARNING: Actual recollections of these times may some how damage your brain. Be careful. ***

*** Guesses as to which of these are true about me won't win anything...other than scorn for figuring me out. ***

Eatery

2006-05-19T08:00:00.000-05:00

Taco Bell's got competition in Arizona. The buzz about the new Mexican restaurant in Scotsdale, Arizona is that it just might get a liquor license. If that happens, the Pink Taco restaurant just might smother Taco Bell.

Really, the controversy surrounds the name of the restaurant: Pink Taco. Apparently some people that live in Scotsdale are angry about the restaurant's name because it's a slang term for...erm...a female body part.

The restaurant retorted by saying that the name is base upon one of its menu items. Yup -- right next to the chode salad, you'll find the pink taco.

So, this article got me thinking. I know, I know, that's dangerous. But really, what is the big deal? So people want a little pink taco now and again. Can you blame them? Can you really? And isn't calling your restaurant pink taco a lot better than calling it "Pussy's?"

This all made me think about a t-shirt that Amulet's fiancee bought for The Antidote. It's grey with yellow lettering on it that reads, boldly: VAGITARIAN.

Anyhoo, back on topic. This article did get me thinking about other fast food battles that might make the headlines:

Pizza Hut v. Pizzie Hut

Arby's v. Arbella's

McDonald's v. McDoobies, or McFlabble's

Wendy's v. Wenda's

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Say What?

2006-05-17T06:22:00.000-05:00

Yup. That's a cool looking tattoo, isn't it?

Well, you wouldn't think it was so cool if you understood what it meant. This tattoo translates directly into "crazy diarrhea."

Yeah, I said it. Crazy Diarrhea. As in, "I ate at Taco Bell last night and it gave me Crazy Diarrhea." Only it's tattooed on this woman for eternity. Or at least until she can get it removed.

Apparently the new trend with Chinese or Japanese character tattoos is to get them removed because they mean something stupid. See a recent Fox News article on this phenomenon here.

Whether you like tattoos or not, you probably know that the first rule of tattooing is never NEVER GET SOMEONE ELSE'S NAME TATTOOED ON YOU. Tattoos are forever. Your boy/girl friend from 8th grade, is not.

The second rule of tattooing should be, DON'T GET SOMETHING ON YOUR BODY IN A LANGUAGE YOU DON'T SPEAK AND/OR READ. That means illiterate people should stick to pictures. But even literate people may think they're getting their "name" or "initials," but they're probably not. In the case of Marquis Daniels from the Dallas Mavericks, his "initials" turned out to mean "Healthy woman roof."

I'm part Taiwanese, and I've always wondered why people do this. I mean, I speak a little Chinese, and I wouldn't even THINK about putting such a tattoo on my body without my mom (the only person I'm pretty certain wouldn't lie to me about a translation) confirming the translation for me.

I do love it when people ask me to translate their tattoos. Even though I only read a little bit of Chinese (meaning almost none), I like to scare them:

Tattoo'd: Hey, you're Thai, right?

Me: No, I'm part Taiwanese.

Tattoo'd: Isn't that the same? Anyway, can you read this cool tat I got? I think it says "powerful love." I got it to represent my love for my dog.

Me: You think?

Tattoo'd: Well, that's what the Asian dude at the tattoo parlor told me.

Me: Are you sure he was Asian?

Tatto'd: Uh, I thought so, why?

Me: Because I think it says "I've got crabs."

_________________________________________________

For grins, here are some other funnies I stumbled across while trying to avoid doing work and getting a hell of a kick out of the stories and pics:

(1) "Lost in Translation, Are You SURE That Chinese Tattoo Means What You Think It Means?"

(2) 20 KANJIS: Does your kanji tatto mean what you think it does?

(3) The Hanzi Smatter blog. My favorite on this site is the correct translation of NBA player Shawn Marion's "The Matrix" tattoo on his leg. (I should note that I I came across the Crazy Diarrhea situation in one of Hanzi Smatter's posts).

Destiny

2006-05-15T09:50:00.000-05:00

Ok. I'm one of those people who swore she wouldn't reveal anything substantive about herself via her blog. Don't ask why...I'm just weird that way.

But, I'm making an exception because I just read a spectacular article that I feel the need to share. The article is entitled "Running From Law Firms" and discusses the epidemic of young associates leaving "lucrative" jobs for other opportunities.

This hits home for me because it is the first time I have ever seen/hear/read someone so poignantly describe how I feel about my chosen career. The career I chose for myself in the 3rd grade nonetheless.

I graduated from law school in 2002 and worked for a judge for 2 years...which was the type of job I imagined I would work when, at the vaulted age of 7, I told my parents I was going to be a lawyer. I was helping people. They were calling me for advice. It was great. Then I was told that we weren't to give other people advice. Our job was to assist people procedurally...not to represent them. "That's not our job." The complaints were the same and no one seemed to be listening. Slowly, I began to become jaded.

At the end of my clerkship I took a job as a litigation associate at a small local firm. It was a "dream," get into court right away and gain experience that the associates at big firms wouldn't get for 5-10 years. I thought I was being smart -- that I would avoid the pitfalls by choosing a smaller operation. I spent my first day in court within 2 weeks of being at the firm. I was excited, exhilarated, and nervous as hell. When I came out of there with my life and career intact, I thought, "I can do this."

But then it began. The Antidote started wondering why I was never home. The worst part...I wasn't making anywhere near the big firm salary referred to in the article. I was working like a dog...for the pleasure of it?! Some partners at my firm kept stroking my ego telling me all the good things I wanted to hear about my performance. Others acted as if I had the plague. Apparently I'd been "marked" by one of the partners as "his associate." Everyone else had to "go through him" to give me work. I began to feel a little less like an employee and a little more like a gun for hire.

One day I heard our staff talking about one of the female partners. Not one to ever eschew gossip...I butted in. They told me that this woman's children had placed a note on her car telling her they "missed her" because she was never home.

My heart broke and my bubble burst. Was this to be my destiny? Is this what I signed up for?

When I was in law school, I had these lofty goals of "helping people." I didn't know what that meant, but I knew I wanted to do it.

As I plugged away at an ever increasing case load I realized that most of my clients didn't want to be helped. Several hated the fact that they needed me or hated the fact that they were engaged in a lawsuit at all (I did defense work, so most of my clients were dragged in by someone else). Even though I was "helping them," they hated me for it. One top of that, I'm spending more time away from home -- and always talking about work when I am home. Add that to the opposing counsel that thinks it's appropriate to call me "little girl" or "honey," or to denigrate me because I didn't have "all the experience" they had. I came home in tears most days.

I finally wisened up and to The Antidote's pleasure, started looking for another job. I ended up accepting to a position with the federal government. I have to admit, it's pretty great here. My benefits rock and the amount of stress has decreased about 100-fold. My hours are, pretty much, my own.

But the curse of the lawyer continues. I do work for an agency that employs mostly lawyers. So, of course, we have a "production goal" to meet. I just started in September and already one employee has been "encouraged to leave" because of her bad quality/production (at least that's what the grapevine tells me), and I've heard that others have "been warned."

So, as much as I actually enjoy what I'm doing now, I still wonder: "Is this my destiny?"

Read the article when you can. Even though it's talking about lawyers and law firms, I think the author may have captured what a lot of people in my generation are feeling about their jobs. There's no simple answer...but you have to decide if you're going to control your destiny or if it's going to control you.

You Can Pick Your Friends....

2006-05-12T07:21:00.000-05:00

....and you can pick your nose. But you can't pick your friend's nose.

I don't know where that came from, but it's the first thing that popped into my head after reading this article.

Apparently the National Dental Survey in London found that Britons are willing to floss with odd items such as screwdrivers, scissors, and earrings. What I find odd, though, is that people ADMITTED this behavior. I mean, it's a survey.

But the surveyors weren't surprised about that, instead they were surprised to learn that 23% of people just left the food in their teeth to rot. Why is that so surprising? I mean Britons are notorious for having bad teeth....right next to Asians.

Me, personally? I think that leaving the food in your teeth is just an attempt by Britons to cover up the fact that they're wearing the cheese perfume their kids bought them for mother's day. Anything for a distraction....

Color Me Lazy

2006-05-10T06:28:00.000-05:00

What is it about the spring that brings on laziness? I thought it was supposed to be the lazy days of summer, but not for me.

Since I'm at the height of laziness today, I have no inspiration and nothing to write about. So, in lieu of reading bad writing, I direct you here to take a quiz to determine what your color is.

No silly, not the color of your skin. I could care less about that. This is the color of your personality.

Apparently, I'm:

ORANGE

You are driven and optimistic. You strive to succeed in life while lightening the mood of those around you. You do well at any job you put your mind to.

Find out your color at Quiz Me!

That actually sounds a bit like me!

Anyway -- I'll be back before you know it.

A Titillating Experience

2006-05-08T06:39:00.000-05:00

It must have been titillating to see. It was a bosom boom for suckling small fries.

This last week, 3,738 women stood chest to chest to break the world record for the most number of women to simultaneously breast feed.

The article does not mention this, but I'm sure the women were not prepared for the outpouring of support from every man in the Phillipines. With 7,476 breasts present, and at least 3,738 of those bared and some point in the day, the turnout must have been incredible. Is it any wonder that the organizer of this mammoth mammary event, Lito Atienza, the Mayor of the Phillipines, is a man?

Regardless of your thoughts about breast feeding in public, you can't deny that it is probably a much better way to bond with your child than to, oh I dunno, smoke pot with your kids.

Roaming Gnome Siting

2006-05-04T07:35:00.000-05:00

An ex-judge in the Phillippines is fighting to get his job back after he was fired for admitting that he made his decisions with the aid of Armand, Luis, and Angel.

At first, I'm thinking: what a lucky judge. He's got three lackeys to help him do all the work while he goes golfing. But then I realize that Armand, Luis, and Angel are not law clerks.

No.

They are mystic dwarfs.

Or at least that's what Judge Floro told investigators. Apparently these three mystic dwarfs "helped him carry out healing sessions during breaks in his chambers."

And Floro wonders why the investigators found that he was "incompetent, had shown bias in a case he was trying and had criticized court procedure." He can't believe he was "dismissed for what he believed."

In response, the Mystic Dwarf Union is circulating a petition seeking some relief from the anti-gnome/dwarf sentiment in the Phillipines.

The Disciplinarian

2006-05-01T06:41:00.000-05:00

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry when I read this article about a 53 year old woman that was spanked for being late to a sales meeting. Apparently her boss made her "bend over, put her hands on the wall and spanked her with a metal sign."

Now, I'm not sure this offense warrants her profiting to the tune of $1.7 million in compensatory and punitive damages. I think the jury should've let her put her boss over her knee and spank him in front of them. Now THAT would hurt.

This got me thinking about the appropriateness of punishment in the workplace. I mean, I would be a lot more likely to do some functional work than to, oh, I don't know, write in my blog, if my boss threatened me with a little spank.

Forget firing as a means of punishing an employee for not meaning goals. I bet a mean slap across the face would get people to work harder. Imagine that meeting:

Boss: Employee, your numbers are really down this month. Is there something you'd like to tell me?

Employee: No boss, I've just had a bad month. But my numbers over the last 15 years have been great, so I hope you take into consideration my past work performance and loyalty to the company when reviewing my file.

Boss: I have. As a result, I'm not going to put a note in your file and will only give you one slap across the face.

Employee: One slap across the face? I'll be red all day. Everyone will know what I've done.

Boss: Believe me, this will hurt me more than it hurts you.

Tell me...what kind of punishment do you wish you could exact on your fellow employees?

Does Size Matter?

2006-04-26T08:41:00.000-05:00

I mean, does it, really? Some people will tell you it's not size, it's style. Others would tell you that size is the only thing that matters.

Apparently, this question has been hotly debated by Mexican politicians. And the consensus is, it is important to the Mexican people that their new president have big balls.

Or at least that's what the ads seem to imply. This thing about size comes from a yearning among Mexicans for a strong president or even a strong party."

I wish we could get political debates like this here. Can you imagine how different the last race would've been? I might have actually tuned in for this debate:

GW: Come on Kerry, whip it out. All the cool kids are doing it.

Kerry: Georgie, my dick is so big it would poke your eye out.

GW: Hee hee....he said "dick."

I think Americans would, like the Mexicans, find it much easier to support their President if this was a primary consideration. Any criticism would be quickly quashed, "Sure he isn't a great speaker, but at least he's got big balls!"

Of course, the thought of the first female president (whenever or should ever that happen) having a big set of kahunas may be enough for the American people to wish for the days when it was about having gray hair and the right connections.

Mr. Messy -- You're Next.

2006-04-21T12:11:00.000-05:00

Do you remember the series of Mr. Men and Little Miss children's books? Man, I used to love those. The list is long, but there were, among others:

Mr. Messy
Mr. Sneeze
Mr. Tickle
Little Miss Giggles
Little Miss Chatterbox
Little Miss Naughty

At the time I was reading these novellas, I used to wonder what would happen if Mr. Messy and Little Miss Neat got together. Now that I'm an adult I, of course, wonder what would happen if Mr. Tickle and Little Miss Naughty were to meet at a club. But that's for a different blog.

At any rate, there was, among these characters, a Mr. Noisy.

He never had a female counterpart, other than the Frenchie Little Miss Loud, until now. But you can't rush out to meet her just yet because Mrs. Noisy was recently sentenced to one year in prison for, well, being noisy.

Apparently Mrs. Noisy was living in an apartment building and used to scream insults and blare loud music at passers-by. Neighbors claimed she caused physical harm with the sheer decibel level of her screaming -- enough to cause one "resident to seek treatment for insomnia and headaches."

That's one loud lady.

Now, she's likely to be known as "Little Miss Non-Repentant," but I'm sure she'll be back to her Mrs. Noisy antics soon upon her release.

Mr. Noisy is reportedly not going to wait for Mrs. Noisy's release, and was last seen with Little Miss Curious behind the bleachers at school.

Engrish

2006-04-20T05:49:00.000-05:00

Yesterday's post included a link to Engrish.com, which is a website where people can gather to make fun of all of the weird English you come across in Asian society. But we need to stop acting like Asians are the only ones that misuse English.

You know those blinking signs they put on the side of the highway to alert drivers to traffic accidents or construction? Today, on my way to work, there was a new one.

See, I drive along Interstate 495 to get to work. If you don't know about the beltway in Northern Virginia/D.C./Maryland...well, then you don't want to know. It's a crazy loop of frenzied speeding to get to your location.

I go to work early -- but today I was a little later than usual, so I was driving faster than normal.

But I still saw this sign.

It blinked:

SPEED LIMIT 55 MPH.

Then it blinked again:

STRICKLY ENFORCED.

No, that's not a typo.

Does that mean if I get caught speeding I'll get lambasted by a bunch of flax? Or will they put the slivers under my nails? And what, pray tell, is "hackled flax?"

Man, things are getting tough around here. I better slow down.

Eat My....Gizzard?

2006-04-19T09:36:00.000-05:00

Apparently there are a lot of sick people out there. And I don't mean "bird flu" sick. I'm referring to the kind of sick that drives you seek out lovers that will allow you to cannibalize them.

Yes, some weird dude in Germany, (Armin Meiwes), is on trial for murder because he killed and ate some other weird dude (Bernd-Juergen Brandes). Meiwes successfully severed Brandes' penis, and they BOTH tried to eat it before Brandes died from, yes, excessive bleeding.

Apparently Meiwes' murder trial hinges on the fact that Brandes wanted to be eaten. But that doesn't jive, to me, with the fact that Meiwes was trolling the internet for a "suitable partner." According to some wacky sex therapist, Meiwes's cannibalistic fantasy "had its roots in his father's departure from the family home and a domineering and embittered mother. His desire to eat someone stemmed from his wish to find a partner who would not abandon him."

I could make so many jokes about being eaten...but really I'm just a little sickened. I'll leave the joking to you all. Please, lighten the mood in here!!!

Well -- one little funny: I bet every cannibal has one of these.

The Final Frontier

2006-04-18T05:04:00.000-05:00

Last month I wrote about the first human body odor bank being used for crime solving in China.

Well, forget about the legal ramifications. The oh-so-innovative Japanese are monopolizing on the strength of smell by marketing fragrant films. IMAX and surround sound are going to be a thing of the past. The new frontier is to engage the movie goer's sniffer to create a more realistic experience.

There are only six scents that will be used at present, but only pine trees and citrus are mentioned. Anyone willing to wager a guess as to the other four?

The article states that these "scene-matching fragrances" will be "released from under cinemagoers' seats." I don't know about you, but there are plenty of scents I can imagine wafting out from underneath cinemagoers' seats...and not a one of those is pleasant.

My concerns about this run deep. I mean, who decides what scents go with what movies? How will this effect the stale popcorn smell that emanates from most theaters? And what exactly is The Scent of a Woman?

Imagine it now...Braveheart...stale human sweat and dried blood overtake your senses as Mel Gibson is decapitated. I'm sure the following scents will be the release of his bowels as his body lets go. At least if they want to be realistic.

Or how about a trip down memory lane with that unmistakable "frat house after a party" eau de cologne wafting from your seat during a re-release of Animal House.

I won't even mention the smells that Pee Wee Herman might have encountered during his movie-going experience oh-so-many years ago. But you can just imagine.

The possibilities are endless. To boldly smell what no one has smelled before. Perhaps we should just leave this to the dogs .

Spelling Be

2006-04-17T05:00:00.000-05:00

I'm not bad at spelling. Most of the time my mistakes are due to typing fast or drinking too much the night before. Luckily, the advent of spell-check has averted some near disasters for me.

The American Bar Association Journal runs a "Question of the Week" every week. Last week, the question was: "What is the funniest error you’ve ever seen that was made by a spell-check program?" Some of the responses were SO funny that I had to share:

From Michelle Lloyd, Neenah, Wis.:
Our company uses the acronym OGSM, which is more or less our company objectives for the year. When spell-checking an e-mail to my team (including my boss), I absentmindedly accepted the spell-check substitute of "ORGASM" (in all capital letters, also), and the e-mail automatically went out to the recipients. The context of the message was something like, "We need to get together to discuss the legal department ORGASM." Luckily, I was able to recall the message, but I was laughing so hard I could hardly see straight!

From Searle Mitnick, Baltimore:
We were handling a matter in which our client’s adversary was a Mr. Piscatelli. I was working at my desk one afternoon when all of a sudden my secretary starting screaming with laughter. I ran out to her workstation to see what was up. Tears were streaming down her face, and she was laughing so hard, she couldn’t talk. She just pointed to her computer screen. The spell-check program had suggested an alternate spelling for Piscatelli—"post-coital." This confirmed our belief that our client had been screwed.

From Danielle Picozzi, Washington, D.C.:
I once wrote a document in which the word "analyzing" was misspelled. Spell-check took the initiative and changed it to "anal sizing."

From Chris Mitchell, Washington, D.C: "Incontinence" instead of "inconvenience" as in: "We sincerely apologize for any incontinence caused by our delay."

From Sarah DiLorenzo, Oak Brook, Ill.: My former colleague, who was corporate counsel at an insurance company, wrote a letter to a policyholder declining coverage. In the letter, he wanted to make a reference to premises liability issues. He must have misspelled the word "premises," however, and the unfortunate result was a spell-check fix that changed the letter to the customer so it made reference to "penises liability."

From Lee Thomason, Bardstown, Ky.:
In a first letter in a new matter addressed to a lovely woman attorney, I had written, "While a review of the entire file is important, what I need from you is an initial compilation." That, when typed, became "an initial copulation," which came through the spell-check. Praise to the mentor who taught me "proofread, proofread, proofread!"

Interesting how most of the mistakes resulted in sexual references, isn't it? Click here if you're interested in reading some other submissions.

Better Off Dead

2006-04-14T05:27:00.000-05:00

I'm a pop culture nut. In particular, stuff from the 80s. Totally in line with this love for the 80s is the fact that some people have told the Antidote he looks like John Cusack. I see a mild resemblance in that they are both male.

No seriously, maybe when the Antidote was younger...but now he looks like Andre Agassi. Yum.

Anyway -- back to my point -- the title of this post is NOT refering to the 80s movie Better Off Dead, which IS a classic. Instead, I was thinking it fits the innermost thoughts of a 17 year old boy stuck with a deadbeat mom and her boyfriend. See, the boyfriend, with mom acting as a co-conspirator, wrote a
fake obituary for her son and sent it to the local newspaper just to get some more time off from work. If you click on the link, you can even read the obit.

Now, I'm not saying that I haven't called my boss and been: *cough* *cough* sick *cough* *cough*: for a day or two. And I'm certainly not saying that I haven't been sick enough to feel like death warmed over (damn that 4th martini)...But I certainly have not reported the death of a loved one in order to go galavanting to Walmart.

At least I assume that's what this klassy mom and her boyfriend were doing with all this free time.

The mom tried to make things better by telling a newspaper that "the fake obituary was caused by "bad communication" and that [her boyfriend] submitted the obituary after she told him her son was ill and she had joked about his death."

Yeah -- because your son dying is funny. Real funny.

This poor kid -- he probably want's his $2...and a new family.

Hiatus

2006-04-13T06:02:00.000-05:00

Ahh...it was a lovely hiatus folks. The Antidote and I went on a little trip. I thought for sure I would log on, attempt to write something witty, and then get back to vacationing. But the sun and the pool called to me, "Curare -- get your ass out here and get a tan girl! Damn you're white!"

So, I listened to them.

And yes, folks, my skin color *was* a regular whitish/pinkish tone, not the blue tone my picture suggests. Now it is a lovely honey color. I love having a tan and not having to wear make up because of it!

But I digress. I'm back now, so more to come soon.....

A Hitchhiker's Guide to Malpractice

2006-04-07T09:05:00.000-05:00

DON'T PANIC! The answer to all of your aches and pains is just an e-mail away. No, his name is not Beeblebrox. But it is Burda...which also starts with a B.

Burda is a chiropractor who believes that he can travel back in time to fix people's injuries. It is a skill that he discovered "by accident" a few years ago. I'm sure the accident involved hitting his head. Hard.

At any rate, he has apparently developed a skill to speak to injuries and tell them to go away. And he can even do this over the phone...or E-MAIL!

He calls this new healing technique, Bahlaqueem, which means...well...nothing.

The Ohio State Chiropractic Board is going crazy over this guy. They claim he's "unable to practice chiropractic according to acceptable and prevailing standards of care due to mental illness, specifically, Delusional Disorder, Grandiose Type."

Ya think? Maybe it's wishful thinking, but it would rock if I could speak to my body like that. I would be my own body's drill sergeant..."Hips, get smaller. Boobs, get perkier. Hair, get shinier."

But then, I'd be delusional. Which would suck.

"A woman is only a woman..."

2006-04-05T05:01:00.000-05:00

"...but a good cigar is a smoke." Rudyard Kipling.

Regardless of what you think about it, we all know that Americans just can't go to Cuba. We can't even think about Cuba unless we're willing to face accusations that we're supportive of a communist regime.

Unless we're thinking about Elian Gonzales, of course. Oh, that cute little boat rider.

But I digress. The real reason Americans even consider thinking about Cuba is NOT just because our Canadian neighbors to the north have GREAT honeymoons and vacations there with no remorse. No, it's because of cigars.

There is just something about a Cuban cigar. Maybe its because it feels so good to be so bad. But keep in mind that, apparently, the FBI is now taking cigar smuggling very seriously.

See, this guy just wanted to enjoy the fine taste of death bringing tobacco wrapped in a leaf by a 4 year old with really nimble fingers. All 46 boxes of them. That's all. But his hateful ex-wife...well, she had other plans, now didn't she? She made contact with the FBI, struck up a renewed relationship with her ex-husband, hid the evidence in the trash can for the FBI to retrieve, and now sits at home laughing her ass off while her ex-husband finishes out the 17 months remaining on his 37-month sentence.

And the lesson folks, without reading all the legal mumbo-jumbo in the article, is summed up by a professor at Indiana University School of Law in Bloomington:

"The moral of the story here is if you’re mad at your spouse, you’ve got to smuggle the [incriminating evidence] out of the house rather than inviting the police into the house, or invite them into the house when the spouse isn’t around."

What's in a Name?

2006-04-04T05:22:00.000-05:00

I love lists. And I love funny names. My aunt used to tell me a story about two girls that she went to elementary school with in Tennessee. Their names were Syphillus (pronounced SE-PH-EYE-LUS) and Gonorreah (pronounced GO-NO-REA). Apparently the mom thought the names "sounded pretty."

People put a lot of stock into names. Some would tell you that your future success is determined by the drunken moment your parents thought it would be just smashing to name their two sons Bert and Ernie. But for a business, your name is your face to the world. I read an article recently that asked for examples of law firms that might want to consider changing their names. For your reading pleasure, here's a list of my favorites (and these are real law firms folks, not just made up names to make us laugh):

(1) Morrison & Foerster, but only because their Web address is www.mofo.com.

(2) Drinka, Case & Diel (pronounced "deal").

(3) Weiner & Cummings.

(4) Lawless & Lynch.

(5) Duffus & Associates.

(6) The Strange Law Firm.

(7) Creamer & Seaman.

(8) Low, Ball & Lynch.

(9) Young & White.

(10) Law, Snakard & Gambill in Fort Worth, Texas.

(11) Johnson, Cram, Harder & Wells.

Bring on the law jokes.

Stress Relief

2006-04-03T07:23:00.000-05:00

I'm not really that stressed. I switched jobs in September 2005 -- and that was my saving grace. As The Antidote so eloquently put it, "I have my wife back."

I realize that being low on stress is strange in this day and age. Especially since I live just outside of Washington, D.C.. Not being stressed makes me an absolute weirdo. (Yes, I know other things make me a weirdo too...but play along, please).

However, this idea absolutely intrigues me. What a GREAT idea! I've always wanted to go to a cocktail party, propose a toast to the host/hostess, take a gulp, then throw my glass into the fireplace. Why? Not because I have vandalous tendencies; it just sounds like fun. (No, I don't think vandalous is a word...but I like it anyway).

And this would be a be a whole lot better than deciding to relieve stress by shooting at the Hell's Angels (or any angels for that matter).

And smashing plates as a past time is surely safer than nude spider-hunting. Or self-castrating.

Just remember...no matter what your stress level...there is probably some poor sap out there who is worse off than you!

Happy Monday!

Just Say "NO!"

2006-03-30T07:30:00.000-05:00

Who needs to to Just Say "NO!" to work? I guess these people do. I don't know about you, but I have no problem just saying "no" to work....after all, that's what blogging's for, right?

But, this article got me thinking (do you smell the gears turning?). What other things in life do we just need to say "NO!" too? Here's my personal list:

(10) Posting any more pictures of Britney Spears naked, pregnant, and giving birth. I don't want to to make you all sick, after all.

(9) Premium water front property in New Oreleans.

(8) Comb overs. The Antidote and I saw this guy the other day that had one that, no joke, would have gone past his shoulders if it wasn't swept over his noggin. I'm going to scream "NO!" and run away quickly every time I see one now.

(7) IHOP. You have no idea what this restaurant does to me.

(6) Shopping online. It's just too easy and there are SO many goodies! Admitting I have a problem is the first step, right?

(5) Tele-donation requests. We have a no call list in VA, but the "5th precinct friends and family of retired police and fireman society" is always calling and asking for money. I'm going to take a friend of mine's approach...speak in a non-language when they call. They apparently stay on the line even if they don't understand you...but at least I'll get a chuckle out of confounding them.

(4) Obsessively checking my e-mail. Every two minutes I check to see if I have another e-mail. And, of course, I don't. Because everyone else is WORKING, not checking their e-mail.

(3) Candy. I am, of course, referring to children's favorite treat, not a stripper in Vegas. I need to deal with the fact that I'm 31 years old and I can't go running to the store every time I'm out of candy. But I LOVE candy. Ahh....candy.

(2) American Idol. But I am obsessed with this show. What is wrong with me?!

And the top thing I need to just say "NO!" too?

(1) Having that third martini on an empty stomach. Because if I don't say "NO," I'll be saying "one martini, too martooni, three martinini, floor."

I'm Not That Innocent(UPDATED)

2006-03-29T06:11:00.000-05:00

Oh we all know Britney isn't innocent. But sculptor Daniel Edwards is taking it a little too far. This most recent "exposure" leaves nothing to the imagination.

Yes folks, that's a sculpture of a naked Britney, on a bear skin rug. But what you can't really see in the picture is that this is a depiction of a pregnant naked Britney. Giving birth.

Apparently there's a little surprise if you go around the back side of the statute.

The tag line to the article says that this "Britney Sculpture of Birth Causes Stir." I'm sure it is. A stir in the loins of every young man that sees this thing in Brooklyn.

The sculptor did not ask Britney's permission to use her likeness. Personally, I'm not all that sure it looks like her. But I hear that his next project, entitled "White Trash Wedding," will be a depiction of Britney riding a bucking bronco with a face like Kevin Federline.

**************UPDATE****************

Just in case you're a glutton for punishment, here's a side view showing the sculpture in all its pregnancy glory.

You're welcome.

In all Seriousness

2006-03-28T12:21:00.000-05:00

So, I usually write satirical-style pieces about news or things that cross my mind during my day.

BUT, this article, well it spoke to me.

Apparently there is a public school in in Arlington, Virginia that is bringing parents and kids together in the pursuit of getting to know each other better through writing and sharing stories.

I wish there had been something like that when I was a kid. It's taken me 30 years to really get to know my parents. And I'm sure there is still a lot I don't know. But programs like this should be encouraged, sought after, and if they don't exist in your area, created by you.

I've only been blogging for about one month now. But I have to say, that at times it consumes me. I enjoy writing...but more than that, I enjoy having an audience to share it with. Whether people like my writing is not the point. Rather, its the exercise of finding a connection with people around you in a world where we're too easily derailed from making contact with the people around us.

In short -- "thanks for giving me an outlet" and "please stick around" even when I get sappy like this.

Happy Blogging!

Pillow talk

2006-03-27T07:07:00.000-05:00

There is nothing I enjoy more than a little pillow talk. But, I'm an extremely heavy sleeper. So, there are times when The Antidote is having a full-on conversation with me....and I have NO IDEA. The best time for him to get my attention is BEFORE I fall asleep.

It's not that I don't care. No. I'm just a heavy sleeper. When I go to sleep, I'm asleep. When I wake up, I'm awake. I'm lucky.

This lady...well, she she wouldn't be in this mess if she slept more heavily. Apparently, in the middle of the night, she heard her husband utter the word "talaq" three times in his sleep.

So, of course, she told everyone.

But do you know what that means? (I didn't either).

They're now divorced. When the local Islam leaders caught wind, they said the husband's words constituted a divorce under the "triple talaq" rule. I can GUARANTEE Christians do NOT have a corresponding rule

I shudder to think about the weird things I might have uttered in my sleep. Perhaps I shouldn't worry so much since my most recent dream consisted of me trying to remember my credit card number for over an hour while trying to buy gatorade at a gas station. But still.

Lessons to learn here:

(1) Pillow talk is private.

(2) What's said in the bedroom stays in the bedroom.

(3) And last but not least....Shut up.

WineOH!

2006-03-24T11:50:00.000-05:00

Hell is freezing over. Pigs are going to fly...and monkeys just might start flying out of my butt. But most shocking of all...porn stars are going legit.

Or at least that's what it seems, when you consider that Savanna Samson is entering the wine industry.

It's the first time Savanna is entering something that hasn't entered her first.

Her interview with reporter Daniel Trotta is priceless.

---------------------------
Savanna: "I never wanted to just do gimmick. That would just happen with me being a porn star, me having a photographer shoot the label, how risque could I get on the label -- all those things."

But she is a porn star. And she did have a photographer take an alluring picture of her for the label. And the picture on the label looks like a naked woman who is pleasuring herself. So what part of this is not gimmick?

---------------------------
Savanna: "I knew I wanted Roberto to make my wine -- I just love his passion for wine."

I'm sure that's what Roberto was thinking when he agreed to this project. His passion...for wine.

---------------------------
Savanna: The wine "really represents who I am...There's spiciness -- the Cesanese has the naughty side of me. And yet it's an elegant wine. I love the opera, and I'm a classically trained ballet dancer. And there is some chocolate undertone, which I just love. There's a little bit of sweetness. Like, 10 percent of the time I'm sweet."

If she's sweet 10% of the time, I'm curious (not bi-curious people) about how the 90% is divided up between her spiciness and elegance. I would imagine that elegance gets the short end of the stick. And if elegance is getting the short end of the stick, where is the long end of the stick?

---------------------------
Savanna: "My priest said in Mass once, 'Violence or pleasures of the flesh. What is the greater of two evils?' I think we all know the answer. I felt like he was saying that toward me."

Savanna, honey. If that's what you're worried about, forget wine. Star in a new porn entitled "The Little Altar Boy." Your priest will worship you.

---------------------------
Savanna:(Regarding her parents' reaction to her job choice)
"They were so devastated. They were terribly, terribly upset."

I can't imagine why. Doesn't every parent wish for their daughter to soar to new heights? I guess they just don't want see their daughter soaring to heights of passion, or soaring in a love swing.

---------------------------
Savanna:(On her motivation for this project)
"I wanted to do something that my parents could be proud of."

Because going into the wine industry is going to make them forget that you ride the wild pony for a living. And that you're so good at it that you won best actress in the Adult Video News Awards. And don't forget that scene with Jenna Jameson in "The Masseuse."

Savanna's parents must be so proud.

Hungry?Take a Bite Out Of This...

2006-03-22T07:49:00.000-05:00

There's a whole new facet to McGruff the Crime Dog's "Take a Bite Out of Crime." In fact, it appears that irate people are taking this advice to heart. Just look at some examples:

(1) A woman in Milwaukee, Wisconsin bit off more than she could chew when she bit off a police officer's finger.

(2) A woman in Celina, Ohio bit off a man's tongue. The crowning statement in this article? "Police say Mescher and Ringo had been involved in a relationship." You think? How the hell else did she get his tongue in her mouth?

(3) A man (yes folks, its not just women doing the biting) in Benton, Arkansas bit a police officer on the hand. The police officer was just trying to retrieve the cocaine that fell out of the man's pocket! Jeesh!

(4) An HIV-positive man in West Chester, New York was just found guilty of four counts of assault by prisoner and aggravated harassment by prisoner; six counts of simple assault; three counts of terroristic threats; and one count each of burglary, criminal trespassing and resisting arrest after he allegedly spit at and bit police officers. There's still a dispute on whether he was spitting AT them, or just evacuating all of his bodily fluids because of the massive amounts of pepper spray used on him. The biting occurred AFTER all this, so no excuses from this Chucky-wannabe.

(5) In Palm Beach, Florida, a grown woman punched and bit her parents in a drunken rage. Now how many of us hasn't wanted to do that?

(6) In Louisville, Kentucky, a teacher bit one of her students. And not in the playful "love bite" sort of way. Although, she did have him pinned on the ground when she bit him.

This new trend is just gnawing at me. It appears that each person who was victim to the bitings above bit the bullet and braved their injuries. But I'm sure they are just chomping at the bit for some revenge.

Mr. and Mrs. Gonzales

2006-03-21T05:48:00.000-05:00

Our neighbors to the south get a bum rap. Everyone's always talking about the U.S. this, the U.S. that. Why don't we think for a moment on all of the Mexican things that are being imported into our country that American's love:

(1) Ricky Martin
(2) J Lo
(3) The Yo Quiero Taco Bell Dog
(4) Elian Gonzales

Wait. Elian was from Cuba wasn't he? Oops. My bad. How about replacing Elian with Menudo? Oh wait, that's where Ricky Martin came from right? Ok, I've got it....Cinco De Mayo.

Anyway, all of these ?positive? influences and what do we have to give back to our southerly neighbors? American movies.

That's right folks, American movies. In fact, they are being played out right on the streets of Mexico City as we speak. Take for example, the story of a Mexican couple, attempting to reenact the movie Mr. & Mrs. Smith. In their excitement over the flick, both are now recovering from a marital spat that involved guns, throwing knives, and homemade bombs.

That's a lot of pent up anger.

Apparently, when questioned later by reporters, Juan Espinosa said he was glad his wife had suffered burns. Mrs. Contreras, in her best Lorena Bobbitt imitation, told reports that she was only sorry that she hadn't "hacked off his [Espinosa's] manhood" during the fight.

The marriage must be doomed to fail, since they're not willing to die for one another.

I got 7 out of 10

2006-03-20T06:38:00.000-05:00

Came across this great quiz.

Can you tell the difference between programming language inventors and serial killers?

Frighteningly enough, I only got 7 out of 10. Three of the sneaky bastards eluded me. Still, as the quiz so eloquently put it:

I know my java beans from my fava beans.

So, how did you do?

Ode to the"Criminally Stoopid"

2006-03-18T08:10:00.000-05:00

Siren Siren, sing me a song! Those of you that know Siren, know that she has taken a break from blogging. When I ran across this article, I just had to share in honor of her.

****************************************************************

Here's my account of how it went down....

---------------------------
Crook 1: "Dude, let's go set fire to some cars."

Crook 2: "I dunno man...my ribs are still bruised from that time we tried to knock over the cows in Farmer Smith's field."

Crook 1: "Come on, pussy."

Crook 2: "Ok, if we're going to do this, let's do it right. Let's steal Jimmy's car and burn it."

Crook 1: "Ok. That sounds good. I saw this thing on TV where you can build a bomb outta a light bulb. I'm gonna call my mom and ask her how they did it."

Crook 1 presses the speed dial on his phone....

Crook 2: "It's gonna burn...will they be able to get fingerprints?"

Crook 1: "I've got the lighter, Dude. Let's go."

and four more hours of conversation ensues....

---------------------------
Of course, Crook 1 had unknowingly pressed the speed dial for 911. As he and his buddy plotted their arson attempt, the cops caught it all on tape.

Now that's Criminally Stoopid.

I Smell a Rat....

2006-03-17T06:29:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the siesta folks! Actually -- I couldn't access my dashboard. Talk about freaking out without my blogging fix! At any rate, I'm back...

*************************************************************

Apparently Chinese technology is so sophisticated and advanced that they are eschewing DNA as a means of catching criminals. To hell with collecting blood, or semen, or hair from crime scenes. The wave of the future is all about relying on your olfactory perception.

The city of Nanjing is the location for the first human body odor bank. Apparently, the police will use this bank to compare various scent samples from crime scenes to identify stinky perpetrators. According to the founder of the bank, though, scent samples only stay fresh for three years.

Yes, people, B.O. lasts for at least three years. That’s the fact that scared me the most. But it DOES explain why after eating at Taco Bell I just can’t get the scent of chalupas out of my hair.

This new technique is going to open up a whole rash of cleanliness among criminals. Gone are the days of only worrying about leaving behind prints. Now the beans you ate for dinner will be the evidence you leave behind.

Of course, it all comes back to Helen Keller. After all, she’s the one that told us that, ”Smell is a potent wizard that transports you across thousands of miles and all the years you have lived.”

If you’re not careful, though, those thousands of miles you cross will leave you hanging in a Chinese prison.

Move Over Pope - the Dali Lama is Comin' Through

2006-03-13T06:21:00.000-05:00

The Catholic church has taken a lot of flack lately. The considerable scrutiny due to ever growing accusations of altar boys every where has shocked Catholics and non-Catholics alike. The scandal has made the Church cannon fodder for critics and comedians every where.

Despite the bad press, this bad mojo is spreading to other religions. It appears that this molestation sex trend trandescends Catholicism, as evidenced by the Buddhist priest recently arrested for engaging in sex with a minor in Tokyo.

Talk about bad Feng Shui.

But not all the blame lies with the priest. After all, he met the young girl through a "prostitue-dispatch service." Not that it makes it OK to have sex with a 15 year old...but it was the girl's job! He was doing his part to feel up the economy.

No doubt this scandal will have the girl questioning her lot in life. Well, if she ever needs another job, she could always move to Brazil and host a talk-show on WHOR FM, a radio station for and by prostitutes.

Beautyv.Beast

2006-03-13T05:56:00.000-05:00

My first guest blog. *SIGH* I guess we all grow up some day. :-)

People Say theDarndest Things

2006-03-09T06:57:00.000-05:00

Do you remember that show Kids Say the Darndest Things? It was hosted by Bill Cosby. He would interview kids and try to get them to say funny things.

I’ve decided that it’s not just kids though. People say the darndest things. As I get a big kick out of the stupid stuff people do and say, I’ll occasionally just list them for your reading pleasure.

JUDGE BILLY MADISON
In an Order Denying Motion for Incomprehensibility a Bankruptcy Judge from the Western District of Texas, San Antonio Division, cites the Adam Sandler classic, Billy Madison. It’s hysterical. I confirmed it – this is no hoax:

"...At no point in your rambling, incoherent response was there anything that could even be considered a rational thought..."

I AM NOT AN ANIMAL!
The existence of a Kurdish family living in southern Turkey that walks on all fours has evolutionary psychologists and biologists more excited than kids in a candy shop. Jemima Harrison (yes, that’s her real name) of Passionate Productions (you can click on the link at work, it’s a company that makes documentaries people. Get your mind out of the gutter) is responsible for a documentary about the family that will air on BBC on March 17. Ms. Harrison eloquently assured us that these people deserve to be loved:

“They walk like animals and that’s very disturbing at first. But we were also very moved by this family’s tremendous warmth and humanity.”

THREE'S COMPANY, FOUR'S A HAPPY MARRIAGE?
Apparently there is a new show on HBO called Big Love about the trials and tribulations of being a polygamist. Appropriate name for the show. At any rate, the main character is played by Bill Paxton, who is quoted as saying the following about his trio of wives:

“It’s not easy staying on top of them...”

IT’S TIME TO PUMP – YOU UP!
Barry Bonds right after his grand jury testimony was leaked to the press:

“All you guys lied! All of y'all and the story have lied. Should you have asterisks behind your name? All of you lied. All of you have said something wrong. All of you have dirt. When your closet's clean, then come clean somebody else's..."What did I do? What did I do? What are you going to apologize for when you're wrong? This is old stuff. I mean, it's like watching Sanford and Son. It's just rerun after rerun after rerun. It's almost comical, basically. We've got alcohol that's the No. 1 killer in America, and we legalize that. You've got tobacco, No. 2 or 3 killer in America. We legalize that. There's other issues. It's become Hard Copy all day long. Are you guys jealous? Are you upset? Disappointed? What? ..."

I can’t even comment. He makes NO sense. Click here for more asinine comments from Barry Bonds.

AND THE WINNER IS.........

BAA BAA BLACK SHEEP HAVE YOU ANY….???
I can’t even elaborate on this one. It stands all on its own. The statement:

“You caught me Alan, I tried to fuck your sheep.”

This statement was later followed by another, less shocking statement (made to the police):

“I probably do need some help….”

Click here to read more about this story, if you dare.

God Bless Us,Everyone

2006-03-07T05:55:00.000-05:00

Could Jesus have been a gay vampire?

This was a topic of discussion among a group of friends recently. Well, not really a topic of discussion...but rather a derivation of a weird comment made by yours truly. But it DID get me thinking.

Now, if you’re going to be offended at my jibes at religion, then stop reading now. I’m only going to offend you, if I haven’t already. If you’re an atheist, you probably won’t care about what you read, so read on. And if you’re an anarchist, well, forward this on to all of your Christian friends.

At any rate, here are my thoughts:

The obvious signs that point to Jesus being a vampire are well known and have been discussed in much detail:

(1) Resurrection. This is an easy one folks.

(2) The meal of flesh and blood. ‘Nuff said.

The not so obvious signs?

(1) The Roman soldier who staked Jesus in the side/heart with a spear. There are different theories here. The first is that this was a mercy killing, which has been likened to a need to “stake” a vampire to kill him. The second theory is that this soldier was condemned to a life of endless wandering, after contact with the blood of Jesus makes him immortal. This is explored in a series of fictional books written by Barry Sadler chronicling the life of this soldier, whom he dubbed Casca, the Eternal Soldier. I read these when I was in high school. Interesting topics, although I didn’t make the vampire connection until now.

(2) Jesus' transformation into a dove. Ok, so this one has a little less support. It's unclear (the reference occurs around John 1:32) whether this is Jesus transforming into a dove or if the dove is God's messenger. If it was the former, this physical transformation into a flying being has much support in vampiric lore. True vampires are able to shape shift into any form...not just the form of bats. I haven't heard anything about blood thirsty doves recently, although see The Phoenix's blog here about blood thirsty rabbits. Maybe this is just the beginning.

Ok, so Jesus may have been a vampire. But what about the tie between Jesus and homosexuality? Consider this:

(1) The movie Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter. I haven’t seen this, but apparently the premise involves the Lamb being called to Ottawa to save Canadian lesbians. Although He’s a “vampire hunter” in this depiction, this doesn’t negate the argument that He may well have been a vampire himself. After all, that storyline has been told before, e.g., Blade.

(2) Anne Rice. Although people believe that Anne Rice’s recent jump from preternatural subjects to religion is a stretch – I don’t buy it. Her prolific writing on both homosexuality (ala Cry to Heaven) and Vampires is just too much to be a mere coincidence. And this “new” search into creationism isn’t her first foray into the world of Jesus. Do you remember the scene where the vampire LeStat sucks the lifeblood out of Jesus in Memnoch the Devil? Hello?! How do you think Jesus BECAME a vampire? Anne Rice made him that way people!

(3) This one requires you NOT to believe that the Holy Grail is Mary Magdelene's blood line. So leave Dan Brown's books at the door. Some people have claimed that since Jesus didn't have a wife and surrounded himself by male disciples...well...what red blooded man would do that if he weren't trying to, well, you know?

(4) In connection with #3 above, if Catholic priests are trying to live in the image of God and Jesus...well then, there you have it.

My conclusions have been drawn. As I leave you to your own thoughts on the issue, I also leave you with a short list of other resources:

Jesus Was Gother Than You. A funny take on the topic that I tried hard not to duplicate, but wish I had come up with first.

A two book series: Vampire Vow and Vampire Thrall , by Michael Schiefelbein. Explore the author’s take on Jesus being gay and a vampire.

The Last Days of Christ the Vampire, by J.G. Eccarius. The title says it all.

Van-i-T

2006-03-06T06:50:00.000-05:00

I h8 VanIT PL8S. They irrit8 me. Why CMUNIK8 with the WRLD in this way? Do people really care that you're a FUNGUY? Or that you're H8NLIFE? Tell it to your therapist man, not me...on the highway...going 75 mph.

In fact, I h8 VanIT PL8S almost as much as bumper stickers. If I've Got Jesus? isn't that my own business?

My parents both have vanity plates. Any time they are over at my house I want to run out and cover up the ridicuous plates. To make it worse, my dad selected vanity plates that are my parents NAMES. UGH. If I was a teen, I'd be dying with embarrassment. Instead, I think its quaint and stupid. :-)

But I can't stop myself from trying to decipher people's weird messages to the world whenever I see them. It will obsess over it trying to figure them out. And all this, even though I don't care if you're the JenR8R or that you're a NYTMARE.

But this guy? He takes the cake.

So, he creates a vanity plate that looks like a real plate so that the cops won't know its a vanity plate. Then, when he gets a parking ticket and the cops run the plate through the "normal plate" database, they get nothing. nada. zilch. He even went to great lengths trying to conceal the fact that his plates were vanity plates.

The best part about it? This guy used to be an administrative law judge whose job it was to....you got it....adjudicate parking tickets.

NOMRTIX for him. Now he's JLB8 all the way. Actually, he just has to pay fines, but I'm sure we all agree his next plate should read IDIOT.

Looking for Insanity?

2006-03-01T06:52:00.000-05:00

In my continuing coverage of murderers and our justice system...

Note: I really am not obsessed with murderers, really. But, I am obsessed with our justice system, so maybe that means I AM obsessed with murderers. That's another blog for another time.

At any rate, apparently if you go on a shooting rampage and kill 13 people, you're too psychotic for execution. Or at least, George Banks is.

Yes, folks. You read right. that's the name of the character Steve Martin played in Father of the Bride. A fact that will, in a moment ring irony bells.

What's great about this story is...a jury rejected an insanity defense when he stood trial. But my take on the situation is that the jury got it wrong.

See, I'm a staunch advocate of the American jury system. I think that it is far better to let one guilty person go free than to incarcerate (only sometimes)and then exonerate (only sometimes) multitudes of innocent people. This is one of those times that a "jury of your peers" just didn't have the full scoop.

If Banks' defense attorney had told the jury the real scoop, they would have AT LEAST granted the guy some consideration for his insanity plea. After all, George Banks was in the midst of being tortured when he lost his mind. Just take a moment to consider his situation. Here's the break-down of his relationship with the 13 people he killed:

He was the baby-daddy to 5 of them.
He as NOT the baby-daddy to 2 of them.
He was the sugar-daddy to 3 of them (his live-in girlfriends)
He was the ex to 1 of them; and
The last 1 was the mother of his ex.

That makes 13. You gotta have at least a little sympathy for the guy. After all, the "Father of the Bride" George Banks couldn't handle his daughter, wife, son, and future son-in-law. Do we expect this George Banks to be any different?

Please don't take my sarcasm to mean that I think these people should've been killed. I truly believe that it is a tragedy that these people died -- and particularly in this way. BUT, can you really blame the man for picking up his AR-15 and shooting? It's enough to drive anyone insane.

This time the justice system corrected itself: "Psychiatrists testified at the competency hearing that Banks has the delusional belief that he has been pardoned and that his psychosis prevented him from making sound decisions." You think? As a prize, George Banks will be awarded a life time in jail being subjected to who-know-what-or-whom. But, who knows. Maybe he'll get a call to appear on Jerry Springer. Now THAT would be newsworthy.

Smokin' at Heaven's Door

2006-02-27T06:48:00.000-05:00

Ok. I'm not the only one that really identified with REM's "Losing My Religion," right? Well, the Supreme Court's recent decision about religious drug use has changed my mind entirely.

Apparently, last Tuesday Chief Justic John Roberts authored an opinion from the "high" Court affirming a Brazilian based church's use of a hallucinogenic tea in their ceremonies.

Church members are amped by the decision.

I'm thinking religious leaders need to capitalize on this. I mean, this could be the answer to bringing all the lost sheep back to the flock. Imagine the influx to churches, temples and covens alike:

Good Friday - Crank it up with Jesus

Yom Kippur - Come cleanse with us - foam party at sundown.

Kwanzaa - Let's Get Ripped.

Easter - Candy baskets, they're not just for kids any more.

The Organization of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints - Lay your hands on us. X for all new members.

Oimelc - Ewe's Milk? It just tastes better with 'shrooms.

Open your mind to the possibilities.

DISCLAIMER (of sorts):

I included links for those of you who are as educated in religious matters as I am...and to stave off any complaints from the religious that I am ridiculing their beliefs...sort of.

And for those of you that think I'm too "up-to-date" on those street terms, I've got one word for you. The Internet. Ok, that's two words. Well, here's two more words for you Slang Dictionary.

When Did We Get So Old....

2006-02-23T06:18:00.000-05:00

So, you're going to think that I'm obsessed with murderers. I'm not, really. But I ran across another news story this morning that led me to ask myself:

WHEN DID I GET SO OLD?!

Teen angst took an ugly turn when Sarah Kolb, a 17 year old girl, participated in the killing, burning and dismemberment of a classmate. The reason?

Boys.

What the hell? What happened to the days when you giggled behind your schoolbooks at the cute girl/guy passing by your group of friends? When did members of the opposite sex become more important to us than our friends? Sure, you squabbled with your friends about the opposite sex and who was more deserving of that person's attention. But, come on -- to kill over it?!

To make matters worse, it was all premeditated. Kolb wrote about it in a journal BEFORE it happened.

The weirdest part about all of this is that Kolb's accomplice was her ex-boyfriend....whom the victim had dated. Whatever happened to, "sorry, it's just not working out?" Or "I'm not going to date you any more because you're a bitch?" (No -- these words have NOT been said to me...in so many words....)

No, it's now turned into "I only dated you so I could lure you into my car, strangle and beat you to death and then burn and dismember your body?"

I'm certainly not a man-hater by any stretch of the imagination (my husband will be happy to hear that). But where's the solidarity, ladies? If Kolb didn't want the victim to date her ex-boyfriend or her current boyfriend, for that matter, why didn't she just tell her to step off?

Sometimes I avoid reading the newspapers because stories like this just send me over the edge. They remind me just how GREAT I had it as a kid. Sure, I was surly and mean to my parents. And believe me, I did my fair share of stupid things. But I still have distinct memories of friends that consoled me after a bad break up and of my parents forgetting all my transgressions and taking me into their arms when someone was mean to me. Even though life seemed SO BAD at the time, it was my friends and family that carried me through it all.

Does it mean that I'm getting old because I long for the days when kids did not murder their friends, parents, grandparents (whomever) because they were mad at them? Am I a codger because I look at teenagers now and think "how did their parents let them go out of the house like that?" Will I soon be a decrepit 30-something shaking her fist at kids in the neighborhood while shouting, "IN MY DAY......{fill in whatever weirdness "old" people used to say to you as a kid.}"

Even though I don't have kids -- I'd like to some day. But I'm not afraid to admit that stories like this....they scare the hell out of me. Despite my fear, I refuse to believe that I'm old and that I'm the one with the problem. Instead, I'll just continue to believe that the rest of the world is F'd up.

Toilet Rage

2006-02-22T06:02:00.000-05:00

Whether we understand it or not, we all know that people kill for a myriad for reasons: war, love, hate, psychosis.

And the feeling is all the more poignant when you live with someone. Whether you want to admit it or not, you've thought at some point or another..."I could kill him/her over X." We don't really mean we want to kill our roomie or SO...or do we?

56 year old Frainklin Paul Crow of Moss Bluff, Florida was pushed over the edge of sanity by his 58-year old roommate Kenneth Matthews. Tired of having the same old argument over and over.....Franklin Paul Crow beat his roommate to death with a hammer.

Oh my god. What did Matthews do? Did he sleep with Crow's woman? Did he borrow his cologne one too many times?

No, Matthews' crime was even more heinous. Even dirtier. Even stinkier.

You see, he didn't replace the TP.

This raises all sorts of questions:

(1) Whose dooty is it to replace the TP? The person who uses the last scrap? Or the person arriving, who knows they are getting ready to use a scrap?

(2) Could this crime of passion have been averted by a simple visit to Toilet Paper World?

(3) Why does a 56 year old man have a 58 year old male "roommate?"

I'm inclined to think there was something else that pissed Franklin off. Maybe he was tired of being number 2 in Matthew's life. Or maybe he was sick of Matthew's potty mouth.

Whether there is a TP shortage in California or not, I suggest that all you little girl scouts and boy scouts carry TP in some form with you at all times. You never know, you just might avert a case of toilet rage.

And guys -- heed the warning -- PUT THE TOILET SEAT DOWN. You could be next.

Tadpoles! Tadpoles is a winner!

2006-02-21T11:17:00.000-05:00

So it's been bothering me (well, not really, but play along please):

Are tadpoles just creepy slimy pre-frogs or are they something more?

Don't worry, you don't have to answer that off the top of your head. I'll give you options:

(1) Galaxy Conceivers;

(2) Solar Anomalies;

(3) A freaky band;

(4) The cause for an inimitable irritating human flaw; OR

(5) Super Killing Machines.

You learn something every day people. It's not that I care that people are taking the kind name of a friendly creature I used to trap and grow as child.

What REALLY freaks me out is that all of these varied sources came up on Google when all I was just trying to do is locate my absolute favorite Deep Thought, by John Handy:

I can still recall old Mister Barnslow getting out every morning and nailing a fresh load of tadpoles to the old board of his. Then he'd spin it round and round, like a wheel of fortune, and no matter where it stopped he'd yell out, "Tadpoles! Tadpoles is a winner!" We all thought he was crazy. But then we had some growing up to do.

Oh that always makes me laugh. Now what was I saying?

And The ParalysisSets In....

2006-02-21T09:49:00.000-05:00

Although I've been lurking since December 2005, I've decided to take the plunge.

At the insistence of the blogsphere's own David Amulet, I've decided to start a'bloggin.

What does that mean to you, dear reader? Well -- it's most likely yet another foray into the nonsensical world and words of an early 30-something woman with a lot on her mind and a desire to remain somewhat-anonymous.

For me -- well, it's an adventure.

By way of introduction, I provide you with the following Poisonous Points:

(1) Curare IS a poison. But it is generally not deadly, only a severe muscle relaxant that results in short term paralysis. Somewhat similiar to the feeling you are currently experiencing while sitting in front of your computer and staring at the screen.

(2) Curare is also the name of a character from the Batman Beyond Cartoon. I am not a cartoon freak ... I just like cartoons. And I liked this character....she's a tough chick...even if she is blue.

(3) I choose to go by "Curare_Z" because I like it....and after all, I can't use "curare" since it's taken (see point 2 above).

To that end....my adventure into the blogsphere awaits....