More poetic, less subtle double entendre can not be found…and no a-hole worth her salt would not avail herself of this low hanging fruit.
And speaking of low hanging fruit…(click here)
Ironically, Arlene loves Dick.
Posted in From Me to You
Tagged Dick Van Dyke, marriage, May December romance, viagra
Ladies and gentlemen…”make love happen today!”
Love is in the air! (click here)
and does anyone else think it’s a little precious that #9′s name is Ka-$hing?
Seriously?
People, I can’t make this sh*t up…
Posted in From Me to You
Ladies and gentlemen…I received my very first hate mail today complete with the N-word and everything!!!!! That’s right…the sender of this email said I was huge NARCISSIST (and an a-hole, which in all fairness, I have freely admitted to on more than one occasion) and challenged me to have even one thought or write even one post where I did not place myself squarely at the center of the universe. (They also challenged me to drop dead but we’ll leave that one alone for now…I hope)
Not one to pass on a challenge (with, of course, the one exception) — please see my completely selfless post below:
….
….
(crickets…)
(deafening sound of silence)
Ok, I’ll admit it…I got nothin’.
Sure, I’m not one to pass on a challenge but neither am I one to pass on the opportunity to annoy the hell outta someone who says hateful things to another person because of her OPINION. (Hmmm, maybe Mom was right, maybe I am kind of an a-hole.)
Posted in From Me to You
In the midst of the outpouring of love for Whitney Houston after the shocking report of her death yesterday, there was an occasional person who asked, “Are you surprised?” or “What did you expect?”
My answer?
Yes, I was completely surprised because I expected Whitney to make it. Maybe “expected” was a strong word. Perhaps I just really, REALLY wanted her to.
There was a great commercial on T.V. a few years back that showed a classroom full of children during the 1980’s. The teacher asked the children how old they would be in the Year 2000 and the kids could not even comprehend the concept enough to do the math. So, the teacher tells them, “You will be 28!” at which point every child in the room recoils in horror at the thought of ever being that old. Now, if you can resist the overwhelming urge to kick the crap out of these smug little bastards, you’d see that there is no absolute age at which the “old” switch is flipped and we instinctively migrate to Florida with 3 blue-haired roommates in search of the best early bird specials and bridge games. Old age is relative.
So absent a guideline, I am just vain enough to be shocked when anyone my age dies. Death is for old people. My age will always be too young to die. Today. Tomorrow. Twenty years from now.
So, no, I didn’t expect Whitney to die from a drug overdose at 48. Just like I don’t expect to die from cirrhosis of the liver at 48 (y’all know I enjoy wine!) Or my friends who smoke to die from lung cancer at 48. Or those of us who overeat to die from diabetes at 48. Or those of us who are sedentary to die from heart disease at 48. I don’t expect it yet these detrimental lifestyle choices are far more common than drug abuse. I’m sure we know more people who chronically overeat than abuse drugs.
If I did lose a friend to these lifestyle choices, I would certainly hope no one would ask ”Are you surprised?” and “What did you expect?” Because at the end of the day, I want to believe we always have time to overcome our bad choices and get better with age, not worse. I just don’t expect these choices to kill us at 48. When you’re young, you always feel like there’s time. Perhaps the most dangerous lifestyle choice of all is youthfulness.
Looking back, I laughed along with the comedians who made jokes about the waif-like songbird who, in retrospect, was waging a spiritual battle against her own demons and losing. “Crack is whack!” — it was just so funny. The life lesson for me is that even when a cry for help rhymes, it is still a cry for help. I’m not saying there was anything anyone could do. Like anyone else suffering the disease of addiction, she had to choose life and health for herself. I’m just saying that I didn’t have to sit on the sidelines and laugh.
RIP Whitney Houston. You are finally in the arms of the One who can fill the void.
Since reading my Facebook newsfeed last night after the President’s Sermon Of The Union address, I’m more convinced than ever that the biggest obstacle the President has is tempering America’s response to him. Not his work…him.
I wanted to write about that. But once again, what came out on paper started to sound familiar. So I hit the archives and discovered that I already had in November 2009.
All Hail The King Of The Two Americas: Click Here
People, we gotta get rational about this #mediocre-presidency-that-could-be-great-if-we-could-get-both-sides-working-together-but-that-doesn’t-mean-that-it’s-anyone-else’s-fault-other-than-the-man-in-charge-and-that’s-what-he-wants-anyway-since-he’s-a-smart-and-educated-man-who-knew-this-accountability-came-with-the-position-so-he’s-not-asking-anyone-for-excuses-so-let’s-stop-shoving-him-in-the-excuse-box-because-it-diminishes-him-and-his-capabilities-in-the-eyes-of-the-public-and-I’m-not-just-saying-that-because-I’m-in-love-with-him. Quick. We’re out of time.
If it’s any consolation, I think it’s what Jesus would do.
So, I’ve added this site to my blogroll because something about this blog seems important; don’t quite know why I think so…but anyway, I want to make sure everyone sees it.
Click Here: Yo, Is This Racist?
CAUTION: Not for the fainthearted, this muthaf#%$ has a potty mouth.
I’d love to hear your thoughts…
Posted in From Me to You
As I careened down the hill at mach speed, frantically grabbing at trees or small children or anything else that might help break my fall, it occurred to me that skiing is a good metaphor for dealing with life.
First, you should know that the “tuck and roll” is critically important to falling without injury and is almost impossible to pull off with skis on. When you fall while skiing, your ass is in it to win it so you might as well go as hard as you can and let the fall be what it will be. In life, I tend to hold back and err on the side of caution, hesitating with each step to make sure I don’t fall. But as my ass was skidding down that snow bank like a rock across a pond, it occurred to me that the fall was not nearly as bad as the FEAR of the fall. In fact, all that damn flailing around was a reaction to the fear, not the fall. The actual fall itself was just soft thud, a face full of snow and a muffled “Oomph!”
That’s my major point.
My minor point is that a booty, no matter how flat, fluffy or wide, is not an effective shock absorber.
Hey, I never said these challenges would be deep. Who am I? Deepak Chopra?
Next weekend’s challenge? I investigate the adage that “it takes two to tango!”
Posted in From Me to You
