PETA Would Be Proud

PETA would be proud

When I was 7, I walked in on my Father going to the bathroom, or as we like to call it, his personal library. He was sitting on the toilet and from that one instance, seeing him sitting, I deduced in my impressionable blonde mind that at a certain age men’s wankers fall off and they have to go to the bathroom just like girls. The funny thing is, I don’t ever recall ever seeing a man stand up to pee either. I guess it was ingrained somewhere in my psyche, must have been a boy who taught me about the dangly thing.

I recall this one moment, because I had another such walk in just recently. I needed a beach towel which are stowed away in my parent’s boudoir. The door was ajar and without suspect I opened it, looked up for a brief second, saw my Father sitting on his thrown with a book in his lap- after all, it was his library.

Thank Gah for the book!

I quickly retreated backwards with eyes shut and apologized profusely.

Than I retreated down the hall to the kitchen where I began to shake off the incidence. Just then a huge yelp from an unsuspecting Boo cried out. “Grandpa, shut the door!”

As he walked down the hall, his trail of disgust kept going, “Oh Gah, Oh Geez, Oh the horror. My eyes, my eyes.”

“Walk in on Big Daddy?”

“Ughhh, he didn’t shut the door.”

“Yep, me too. Beach towel. You?”

“Toilet paper. Ughh”


We had a good laugh about it only because once Big Daddy hits the library; the glorious odor that comes from his ‘reading’ leaves you staying a distance away from the entire bedroom wing. I never did get that beach towel and Boo hustled Big Daddy's woman in for the paper.

Now it seems, some rats have taken to my storage unit and have converted it to their own private library. I noticed their ‘reading’ all over the sheets that cover my antique chairs. I have discussed the problem before with the management but all they want to do is place rat traps and poison in my unit to rid me of their problem. Unfortunately, I rather see dried droppings than dead carcasses of rodents left behind by torture.

Imagine them dying in my space, near my things.

Never!!!

I rather sit in Big Daddy’s library after he read the entirety of ‘The Blah Story’, which is a 13 million-word book by Nigel Tomm!!

Ughh!!!

So, instead of killing the walking typhoid fur balls, I have decided it is in my best interest and the rats, to move.

Ughh!!


The Blonde hates animal control!

Money Talks, Everyone Else Walks

I am listening to ACDC, whom I can never seem to get enough of, on nights like this; nights that make me think I should just chuck it all and be a vagabond on the beach or take a long walk on a short pier.

Money does talk, it talks louder than anything else in the world. For those of us who have lost it, for what ever reason- does it even matter why? It is a bit more difficult than never having money at all.

My friends, and even some men I know, seem to think being broke is contagious, or they think I am after them for something, and so they politely space themselves from me. It is alright, considering I can not afford to accompany them on the trips they take, the charity dinners they attend, nor the art exhibits from which they buy for their house, that I know longer have, anyway.

It seems to save face on both ends.

I am slowly becoming invisible but not in a bad way. I am just working in my cocoon to come out as a butterfly again. Spread my wings of fabulosity and see what life holds for me after I recover from this little stint in a financially dormant life.

One thing is for certain...men will be at the bottom of my list of hobbies... and friends--who needs the old ones when I can make new ones in exotic lands that I will most certainly be flying to.

And maybe, my wings will take me to a land that values the person more than their fame and fortune.

The Blonde has no room for baggage on her pretty little wings!!

I dedicate this to Farrah Fawcett!!!

I Have a Drinking Problem

...and the first step to reovery is admitting it. Its a problem that seems to fill the nooks and corners of desk tops and sewing areas with mounds of coffee cups, ice tea glasses, little wine glasses, and Fresca can...after Fresca can. At any given moment, I will drink simultaneously from several glasses strategically placed around my little bikini manufacturing room (aka. my bedroom suite). I constantly forget where I placed my glass or forget I already made myself a cup of tea and I will whip up, in the blender, a sugar free iced coffee.

It doesn't matter what the beverage, I just seem to be thirsty all the time. Perhaps its more that I am over compensating for my oral fixation and lack of a fag between my lips since I have had to cut down on my smoking due to a bank account on thin ice, my Nat Shermans being in the Louis Vuitton price range of smokes, and the government extorting funds from me that should be punishable under the RICO act.


At a time when I am afraid I may not make it to the next month and be able to pay bills, drinking during the day feeds my need for a vice while I worry about whether or not my little ecokini company can sustain my very small existence and grow into a future with a much larger lifestyle.


The Blonde makes a toast to better times!!!

Star Trek Movie

Since when did I develop a hyena's hunch on my back that needs to be accommodated by the bucket molded, seating in movie theaters?

I went to the new theater to see Star Trek, finally, and the seat had my head jetted half a foot in front of my shoulders. Why do they curve a chair that way? If they put the head rest in line with my shoulders, I wouldn't have the the inclination to recline the chair just so my head could sit up straight.

My back was sinking in the cavernous hole in the middle, where I should have had some lumbar support, , and the extra foot room for my feet in the chair in front of me was walled in by more plastic.

Do designers of theater seating really have a hatred for anyone who would prefer to sit up straight? Do they not understand the difference between reclining and slouching?

I would prefer if my head leaned back so I could try and focus on the too many close ups on the too small of a screen, that they cut to fit 16 screenings in one theater building.

Whatever happened to the big screen?

I dated guys with bigger screens in their theater rooms!!

On the other hand, the new theater had popcorn that was poly-saturated fat free cardboard, spinning greasy dogs, and no Reese's pieces!!!!


It sucked!!!!

Anyhoo,

If I go to movie again, it will be my 10 am movie on Sunday, at the old theater that smells like dirty socks, has reclining seats, self buttering popcorn, dirty water hot dogs, and a super large screen just for me.

PS. Star trek was perfectly fab, see it again!!!

Can't wait for GI Joe!!


Blondes like their own show!!!

Parking Meters

University of Texas didn't go for my meter painting idea.

Hhmmm.....

Maybe I can talk Austin in letting me do the meters around the capital like little Texas flags.

The Blonde needs change for the meters!!