I don’t know how Crack Cat does it but he pushes me to the side of the bed whenever he sleeps in my room. I wake up in the morning sleeping on 6” of edge while he is sprawled out in the middle with covers twisted around him. I am lucky just to get a corner of the duvet to huddle under. Lately, I have just succumbed to wearing my fluffy robe to stay warm while I maintain a fetal position because the furry slumber natzi won’t let me move.
I could sleep in a king sized and it would make no difference to Crack Cat. Even though there is an entirely other side to the bed not being utilized, he finds it more comfortable to nestle in between my legs and systematically move my body to less than a square foot of space against the headboard.
I think he has been reading Tsun Su’s ‘Art of Bed Warfare’. Every move he makes comes directly from a zen masters teachings. But what he has not learned is the fact that I possess powers far beyond that of those teaching.
AH-Ha...I have opposable thumbs that can open and close doors locking sleep snatching kitties out of my room.
Scratch, scratch, scratch
Scratch, scratch, scratch
Damn, student has surpassed Master.
Blondes don't need bed bugs!!
I spent last night with my Mother making cookies. I got to roll out the dough with the wooden roller thing and place them on the cookie sheet.
After staying up till 3 in the morning helping her, what is my thanks?
Another murder attempt on my life perhaps?
Of course, its right before Christmas. She needs to start eliminating family members off her Christmas shopping list so she can keep the money for herself.
"Try my cookie"
"I am not hungry"
"No, go ahead try the cookie, just a little bite."
" I will try it later."
"I just want to know how it tastes. Try just a bite"
"Fine, which one?"
"Try the square ones I baked this morning."
I take a bite of a cookie. My Mom stands uncomfortably close to me and she is looking at me intently.
"How is it?"
"Does it taste strange?"
"No. Why? What did you put in it?"
She starts laughing hysterically.
"Mother what did you put in the cookie?!"
She doesn't stop laughing.
"What is in the cookie, woman?!"
"Dad, your wife is trying to kill me, again!"
"Did she try to give you her special tea?"
"No, a cookie."
"She tried to give me one. I am on the Christmas list too."
After laughing for five minutes straight she finally answered.
"Well, you know how I have that big bottle of vanilla extract. Well, it looks just like that new organic kitchen cleaner bottle."
"You fed me household cleaner?"
"Yes, but its organic. It shouldn't hurt you"
"Are you planning on serving the cookies?"
"Well if they taste alright and you’re not dead in the morning, I don’t see why I can’t serve them."
She must have a long shopping list. She is killing in bulk this year.
Blondes should know better than eat sweets!
...to the dark side of life. Welcome to the Trail of Lights, Austin, TX.
I would call CQ to complain but since I am too ill to eat, drink, or ever think of smoking again, I realize I have nothing to voice concern about. It seems the patches did work, after all, in a weird masochistic kind of way.
Sadly I had to leave my pilot and come home. My only regret is not having used the fireplace for a romantic ending. I was not sad to leave Santa Fe, but I could feel my throat choke up at the thought of saying goodbye to my wing man.
I left just as the snow began to blanket the desert ground. I thought to myself that without a private hot tub, balcony with a view, and my fly guy, I wouldn't have seen the the full beauty of the snow as I had it painted it in my head, anyway.
I reached Dallas just before traffic was to hit so I waited it out in a lovely story book diner before attempting my ride back to Austin. As I headed out to my auto, the cold front whipped at my hair like only the breath of Jack Frost can blow. I got into my mechanically plagued jag and headed south only to find Jack's fury escalated and he began spitting sleet. I had to pull over because when attempting to turn on my wiper, the thing flew off quicker than Donner and Blitzen and jetted 30 feet over the guard rail. I was not about to get out of the vehicle and scamper on the side of the highway for my blade so I engine crawled the car along the shoulder until the nearest hotel approached...well, the nearest nicest hotel approached. The hotel was very zen and after losing my heart and my wiper blade...I was only too happy to settle into sanctuary for one evening.
In the morning I took off for Austin only to have my steering lock up and I had to veer off the road to safety. Once again, I crawled my antiquity to the nearest station and recapped my steering and headed home. In Austin less than 10 miles from my house, a driver in a beat up-pick up side-swiped my old darling. As I pulled over onto the shoulder, the other driver hit the gas and took off. My jag, the poor girl began to cry and cry like only a British car can. I let her vent for a minute before pulling back into traffic, rolling along the last stretch of tar until we found rest at mi Casa de familia.
My British beauty needs a little more attention than most but I adore her and though we had a few troubles along our way, I just can't imagine giving her up for something new.
Blondes will always love the older models!!
Indian style art, jewelry, and clothing are really not my style so it was difficult to find a store that had something I liked, although I did manage to pull one rabbit out of the hat; Dry Goods Import had at least an armful of beautiful things that I really, really wanted. Alas, I had to leave the store empty handed since each piece of clothing cost a small fortune. If I had bought exactly what I wanted, it would have been the equivalent to a down payment on a recently repossessed house.
The evening proved to be a little livelier and a little more fun than I anticipated. I was treated to dinner with a small showcase of Broadway songs sung by the wait staff accompanied by the tapping of the ivory keys on a baby grand just a few feet from my table. Afterward, my Pilot and I traveled across town on foot in the crisp western winter air to a piano bar, which on this particular evening was featuring the local talent in a sort of karaoke style piano play. And while the local crooners were all very talented in their own right it was the piano player that took center stage. He had such an amazing talent that he could make Quasimoto sound like an angel.
Due to uncooperative weather, I am in Santa Fe for another day and so since I have yet to traverse Canyon Road; I will do that today and I am sure I will have fun sticking my nose up to the paintings all day. I would prefer the company of someone to enjoy the romance of this particular road but my pilot has other duties these days.
A Blondes natural habitat has more to offer!!
I decided I didn't want bangs anymore. I wanted all long hair. To remedy the situation I took a pair of scissors and chopped my bangs down to my scalp.
Being blonde I did not foresee any problem. After cutting, however, I did see a slight error in my judgment. Not only did I have a row of stubble framing out my forehead but when it began to grow back it looked like an albino caterpillar had latched onto my head ready to build its cocoon.
I have many blonde beauty moments in my time but I still feel that this one took the frosting off the cake in one tongue lick. Right under that would be the time I decided to bleach my eyebrows to match the color of my hair!
Blondes should come with warning labels!!
I haven't been stopped by a police since last week. I haven't had dog dung on my clothes since the week before. My cars are getting repaired. I paid the Shylock off.
I even had an enjoyable dinner date last night!!
What the heck?!
Is it the season to be jolly already?
The only thing I have to complain about is my cellular stalker. I don't know how many weeks of him calling a trio of times per day and evening, only to receive no return call from me, it will take for my subtle hint that I am not interested to sink into his thick head, but I am hopeful.
After all, tis the season of giving and I am hoping he will GIVE up for both our sakes.
The Blonde finds more joy in receiving peace!
Trust me!!! By the time he is finished with you, you wish he had just broken your knee caps.
"Can I cash your check?"
"Can I cash your check?"
"Can I cash your check?"
No matter the time of day or the place, if he sees you, he will ask...You feel like you have been stuck in the back of a station wagon with a kindergarten loan shark and no one will stop the car so you can kick the little tot to the curb.
"Do you have my money?"
"Did you make the deposit?"
"Can I cash the check?"
He systematically wears your mental psyche down until you can no longer take it and you begin teetering on the brink of insanity. He stops right at the point of you twiddling your fingers on your dangling bottom lip because he knows if the men in little white coats lock you up in a mental institution he won't get his money.
He backs down only to bring in the hired guns.
Yes, My Mom is on his payroll.
"Hi darling, how is Dallas. I am so happy for you. By the way..."
"Do you have your Father's money?"
"He is driving me crazy."
"Do you have the money to give him?"
"Call when you have the money."
The little gypsy is getting a percentage of the take.
Its been twelve hours since I borrowed the cashola and I am already thinking about knocking over a convenient store.
Blondes hate bad loans!!
My color turned orange!! I looked like a clown gone rogue!
So...to kill two birds with one stone, I decided to pay my traffic fines and head straight to the salon, for an emergency correction, since it was on the way.
I paid my tickets, fixed my hair and got my nails done.
Its a gorgeous day, I am looking fine, I turn up the tunes and cruise back home.
I was pulled over for cruising by the speed trap at a minimal 13 miles per hour.
It's the beginning of the December month and the road traps are everywhere.
I talked my way out of a second warning for inspection, registration, address change.
I would have been able to talk my way out of the speeding ticket but its understandably bonus time for the men in blue and they have Xmas shopping to do.
Normally I would be totally peeved about this second invasion of my driving time but my local peace officers but looking fab and on my way to Dallas tomorrow, I really have no care in the world.
I just look at it as supporting my community. With all the extra money the police have made from me this week, someone is getting a new bullet proof vest for the holidays.
Blondes aren't the only ones with their time of the month!!
I personally wanted to do my part and help out with a little shopping but after my surprise from the men in blue, I won't be wearing designer black any time soon.
I was out first thing this morning to empty my green on a brand new yellow traffic ticket for no inspection, no registration, no seat belt, and a warning for no address change to my license.
To spare myself an extra present from the peace officers bag of goodies, I skipped Neimans and went directly to the courthouse bypassing the 'Go directly to jail' square (Monopoly not included) to share my weekend with a cellmate name Lola who has a penchant for cracking her knuckles and snapping her gum.
I am pleased as leftover apple pie that Lola and I will not meet. Like many Americans, I couldn't afford an extra gift this season, anyway.
Blondes are looking for a brighter future!!
We stopped at exactly ONE!
That was all I needed for my digestive system jerk me aside and have my stomach grumble at me for more than an hour.
After the stomach pummeling died down, the sugar crash, from the strawberry malt, hit me at 90 miles an hour.
No seriously, I was driving ninety miles an hour when I nodded off at the wheel and crossed two lanes and hit the gravel side before everyone in the car woke up!
There should be a Blonde disclaimer on junk food.
Do not operate heavy machinery or drive while consuming more than your strict dietary guidelines of carbohydrates.
I am only too grateful that I was on a back road and no one was hurt. Needless to say, Boo and Jesus took turns driving while I watched DVD's in the back of the car.
Sometimes it pays to screw up!!!
Blondes should not Drive With Indigestion
And because of a certain beau that I have been seeing, it became clear to me that love and breath go hand in hand.
You have know idea how precious air and love are until you struggle to have it.
I can not think straight.
Thoughts are difficult to speak.
And a weight settles on my chest and I am afraid I can not keep it.
Love, like breathing should not be taken for granted.
I do not curse the air because it denied me the previous night.
I do not curse new love because old ones faded.
I can not understand a world that restricts me of both but I know with each passing season, my breath will catch the air and my heart will find new love.
Blondes will not let their heart fail!!
I woke up in the middle of the night to see Quazimoto staring back at me. Being a bit vain, I could not stand the thought of waking up hideously mutated in the morning.
Plus I was scaring my friend's dogs.
I looked for hydrocortisone cream to bring down my alien sized eyeballs but being in a new house and it was the middle of the night, I was only able to find a tube labeled 'anti-itch' cream.
I just assumed it was hydrocortisone.
I rubbed the cream on my eyes and stumbled back to bed. I awoke a little later with my eyes feeling like they had been an extra in 'Clockwork Orange'. My eyes were stinging and they felt like an unauthorized eye lift was performed in my sleep.
I teetered into the bathroom and washed my eyes.
I no longer cared about the puffiness, I just wanted the burning to stop. By the time I had washed and rubbed all the cream off and out of my eyes, I looked like I was hit with tear gas.
In the morning I was finally able to open my eyes just enough to read that the tube I used as a beauty product for my eyes contained cream for foot fungus.
Being Blonde is not easy!!
Well, ladies its true especially of the women that gave me dirty little eye wince, as I ate my lunch alone.
I have had women look me up and down before but not to the point of making sure I would notice their sneers. They actually kept it up until I could no longer ignore them. So I looked straight at them, smiled and went back to ignoring them refusing to give them any satisfaction.
It was almost funny, if it weren't really so sad, that someone with so much insecurity and self hatred would want to hurt a stranger's feelings.
I don't know what I was doing other than being myself and smiling and eating my bunless burger and having a glass of vino.
I just minded my own business and really didn't look over at the table again. They really weren't worthy of anyone's attention especially this Blonde. Perhaps they were upset with me for drawing attention to myself by doing nothing more than being happy and sweet. Obviously these women did not know how to master such traits and thus they remained invisible to all the yummie Dallas men that walked past them.
Ladies, learn to smile because you get much sweeter things in life with honey than you do trying to sting people. Insecurity and jealousy looks good on no one, and how you feel on the inside really does show on the outside for everyone to see.
Blondes know being mean is never in style!!
Take for instance, borrowing my friend's Prius this morning.
There is no key.
There is no sound.
There is no vibration letting a Blonde know the auto is on.
I push the 'go' button.
I push the 'park' button.
I buzz to the store.
I get out of car.
I push the 'alarm' button.
I go into store.
Push 'un-alarm' button.
I get in the car and realize...I didn't push the 'off' button!!
This toy car has not been approved for the safety of Blondes!!
When picking up dog poom, is no walk in the park!!
I offered to take care of the 'walking', before realizing 'walking' meant potty pick up duty for the Bow Wow twins.
I can understand why girls have dogs the size of their handbags. Its easier to pick up peanut size drops of poom as opposed, to say, one very large German Shepard with a finicky tummy.
Is it me or is it Murphy's law? That the one the size of Sasquatch has to have the upset tummy. His shiat is the size of a ferret!!
Now imagine a beautiful fall day and a pretty Blonde, in her brand new Juicy Couture pink jumpsuit with matching clogs decides to take the dogs for a walk in the neighborhood.
She grabs the leash, the recycled plastic newspaper bag and heads out the door with two lovely white pooches.
Now imagine the Blonde picking up the poom, not realizing there was a hole in the side of the bag, drops the bag, flicks her hand to get the poom off her pinky.
The poom hits her sunglasses she trips and falls on the bag of poom!!
Blondes realize their is no dignity in doo-ing the right thing!!
Its a dice shoot, every time I hit the on/off button, with my new brew machine.
I am on my third pot of hot water.
The coffee maker says automatic grind but its not automatically grinding!!
I have been poking at the Krups, like a blonde chimpanzee trying to find the magic button.
I have resorted to making a cup of tea while I stare at my Krups KM7000.
Apparently, power of the mind doesn't work on this brand of coffee maker.
Where are my car keys?
Blondes are betting on Starbucks!!
Remember when we were seventeen and the world dropped at our feet at the thought of love?
We hung on the phone for hours with only fifteen minutes of conversation and the rest filled with dead air and a simple satisfaction that we were together, even if we weren't.
We would dangle the ear piece while we watched the tele, or did our nails, or used magic marker to script up our school spiral notebook cover with 'love me hearts' announcing the name of our beloved.
At this age, do we get that anymore?
We may not have the spiral notebook but we have the emails from the very first communication to print out and hold in our jewelry box.
Some things for a women, Blondes included, never change....the jewelry box with little mementos of lovers will forever more carry us to our grave.
I have held on to every single florist card, bracelet, concert ticket, even fortunes from a ccokie left over from a shared Chinese dinner.
For me, true love is willing to empty that box of memories so I can fill it with new ones...
and a brand new wardrobe!!
Blondes like falling in love with new ideas!!
Duh, I know the game is in D.C.
Didn't I say it was ironic!!
I am not that Blonde.
OK, I am but its really just irony this time!!
I don't know who is going to win, but at the moment my team has kept a small lead for most of the game. However, as positive as I am, I still lose faith for mini-seconds and I need a distraction to cool my negative thoughts which might have the potential to jinx my boys.
I am crossing my fingers!!
Did I mention, the new coach is a cutie!!
While I sit here waiting through the nonexistent half time show of Bruce and his new album, I thought it would be a great time to introduce my ungrateful, unloving cats that haven't once called to see how I am doing.
The book end cats....Crackhead and Lela
Blondes heard pets help with stress....Go Skins!!
but when I am on top of the world, only one thing can help me scream my elation
and that is me strumming my guitar
only its different this time
after the world wind romance I just experienced
I realize anything is possible
including me finally learning how to play my Black Betty properly.
Blondes suddenly hear music everywhere!!
Dallas will soon be my new second home or maybe my first (time will tell where I hang longer but I think I know), cross my fingers and hope I don't screw anything up.
I would like to be less superficial and say my move is based solely on the thought of falling in love with a man but baby, the Galleria stole my heart first.
I was like a big kid in a new candy store. I wanted everything!!
Its a good thing I cut up my cards, long before this shopping spree, because I would have been in serious debt denial just for the boots and handbags alone.
The decedant ecenomic stimulation that was going on between my wallet and the Armani store would leave Palin in the dust with her GOP lending closet.
I am a slut for clothes. It is my crack. My addiction to style and looking good fed by every wonderful inch of the Galleria has fed my need that I can not leave it, not even if you promised me speed bumps in Westlake to stop the Bambi roadkill I have endured on a weekly basis.
I love you Austin, I truly do but you lack two things I truly need right now...
The love of a good man...
and the love of every salesperson in the designer stores in the Galleria.
The Blonde is finding her place in this world!!
Yes, I am a bit cocky this morning.
I had a few good date nights this week which I totally needed before my self esteem goes down the tube. I just can't seem to close a deal over the tele-cellie these days.
As you all know, I hate the phone, hate talking in it with a passion. I am much better in the flesh...
Having to get to know someone over the cellie is silly, it can't be done properly.
I think the gents believe I am not interested in what they have to say, but I am,very much so. But I want to see them face to face so I can ask questions, lean in on extremely interesting stories, flirt with their eyes when there is a lull in conversation, show him how excited I am about being with him...
You can't do any of these things over the wire!!
I have been through more virtual men than Neo in the Matrix that when the real ones are finally sitting in front of me they are totally gold, the holy grail...because the reality is I hate internet dating!!
It seems most of the dating occurs over the internet and after a couple of replies you break up silently and without warning and never meeting. Its tiring and time consuming and I can just as easily pick someone up in a grocery store, a bar, or waiting on the curb at the airport.
I don't know if its easier to find a real relationship or its just easier not to try to make one work because you have a virtual catalog of new avatars to date.
The Blonde needs a gigabit of a break!!
Take a deep breath...
And even if you only get to experience the rush of chemistry for only one night...
Embrace it without a second thought to longevity.
Afterall, its not how long you can love someone but how much you can love them
with the time you have!!
Get your mind out of the gutter!!!
The Blonde didn't say 'make love' to them!!
"Are you here to get me?"
"Are you with the film festival?"
"Good, you have a better ride anyway."
"I really just wanted to say hi to a pretty girl."
"You should be even bolder and ask the pretty girl for her number."
"What's your number?"
"Oh, I don't give my number out to strangers."
"But for you I will make an exception."
So, I gave him my number and he drove off. I heard from him last week and we have a date for First Thursday in SOCO tonight. I picked the deck of Mars to start and then we can stroll the shops for a bit.
If it goes badly, you will hear about it.
If it goes well, you will hear about the shopping!!
Blondes don't kiss and tell!!
is over, at least for me. I am exhausted and tired of hearing about it.
I actually did not vote because I would not vote against my party. I just didn't want my party to win. I am one of those disillusioned voters.
To celebrate the end of the idiocy error ( I meant era), I went shopping yesterday to help out the economy.
It is the least I can do.
I decided to go wickedly sexy this season.
I have been watching Housewives of Atlanta and something just made me want to kick up my game again. I love Kim and her style is like mine, although I lack the double D transplants, I have a better butt.
I am also stepping up my game because I am back on the internet dating trail and nothing makes my day more than when I walk into the bar at the Four Seasons or Driskell and watch the man's chin drop.
And yes, you will have the first edition of all failed dates..not that I have had many lately but I will see what I can drum up for you.
I know you love it when the Blonde suffers!!
Now just because I look good doesn't mean I am going to rev up his chemistry meter for me.
But I have gotten good at knowing who will work and who will not after a few emails. So far my track record has been very good.
While Blondes tend to get along with everyone, we know there are a few that just won't go beyond a first meet and so why bother.
First, if the man wants to have coffee for the first meet I tend to stop the communicado. Coffee houses are cheap and the conversation gets pretentious. Also, I am not into speed dating and really how much coffee can you drink.
Second, is the man who likes kayaking. I am not a granola girl. I will go camping only if its on the balcony of a luxury hotel suite. I like to hike, after all its basically just walking without shops around, but camping, fishing, kayaking...that is for the blue, not the pink.
Third is the man who likes writing. I am not a pen pal and having to foster a relationship through writing seems silly to me. I usually limit my emails to 3 or 4 back and forths otherwise you end up with men that really aren't interested in much more then passing the day away out of boredom. These men are usually out of state.
Which is a shame because I found I like more men out of state than the ones in state and I am not at all above relocating to a coastal destination. But I just get tired of trying to dazzle so many with my writing skills.
My creative energy is getting zapped.
Having to be clever all the time tends to tire me to the point of not finishing the writing that actually pays.
Needless to say, I need to settle upon a boyfriend fairly soon before I lose all my writing skills. And there isn't much of that skill to spare, according to the grammar natzi!!
Blondes are not made to jump through hoops!!
You can't blame whitey no mo!!!
Unfortunately, you still have rednecks and ultra church going conservative haters that were offensive and vulgar toward last night's winner.
Hopefully we can change them too!!
The Blonde says yes we can!!
I am busy pecking away on the computer, trying to finish the revisions to my book, and Mother comes hopping in from her garden and lays down a flat basket filled with garden goodies including a very smelly batch of chives on the desk right next to me and left the room.
I have no idea why other than she wants to kill me but doesn't actually want to witness it.
Immediately, I began to wheeze and gasp for air!!
"Mother, can you take your weeds off the desk please.
This is the library not the kitchen."
Blondes need to watch other Blondes like a hawk!!
I held my Breathe the entire last 2 minutes!!!
With one second left to go and a very most awesome pass and catch...you reminded me of my precious Redskins!!!
Blondes feel bad for the Longhorns...NOT!!!!
Two little 5 year olds came up the driveway.
While I was digging in my purse for some dollar bills, my freind answered the door. He just placed his hand in their bag and thumped the side of it to make the sound of candy dropping.
The children were too young to call him out on this deception but they knew something was up.
In their innocent little voices they said, "What was that?"
My friend said, "Invisible candy. Don't tell anyone!!"
Once they left and we closed the gate, we both laughed.
I said, "Your lucky they weren't six or they would have made you prove it."
He said, "I am glad they weren't eight or they would have burned the house down if I couldn't prove it."
Blondes love Halloween!!!
The bed will actually reach its corner out to kick me in the shins. This isn't the first time.
Its a hateful bed!!
I think the laundry I forgot to put a way had a hand in it, too. The piles of clean folded laundry I took off the bed and set down on the floor next tot he corner had a conversation with the bed and they conspired to trip me up.
Its not my fault I couldn't deal with my bedroom. I had cars to wash, Halloween decor to set up, and bitchy notes to text to strangers that judged my dating preferences.
I have since cleaned my room and made up with my bed and laundry. Its nice to know that even if people don't forgive you, your inanimate objects will.
Although I think I heard them giggling while I slept last night!!
Beds and laundry may break my bones but words only bruise a Blonde!!
The following is a preview of a heated debate using the Iphone keyboard and text:
I am fairly certain I lost.
from the iphone:
letbthe middle man revolt andbsievthe execs for malice unloss the middleman is guilty of lusting it happen unless vptomf for blackam will se permmave enough
I will not vote for a system can be repaired by one man no how well speak nor howany pink flamingos she can trap the redneck vote
end of iphone text....
Don't believe the Iphone is better than the Treo or the Blackberry just because of great ads...learn for yourself...sort of like politics...choose wisely or make a fool of yourself!!
Blondes know there is good and bad in all!!
I too was twisted into buying more than I could afford.
Do I get 3 months moratorium on my credit card payments?
The girl at Nordstrom said I could afford the Balenciaga shoulder bag, if I charged it. I believed her and now I am stuck paying...its not fair...I should be bailed out, too!!
If you want the credit institutions to feel good about giving more credit, why not lower the credit rate on already inflated, beyond the sky, charge cards so people can get a bit of relief to help pay off the original debt?
Then they can buy more, perpetuating new spending...duh!!!
Or just bail out the titans, let the idiots have 3 months free mortgage and make the rich pay for it all!!!
Blondes believe in limits !!!
Blondes have fragile egos, so when your on a date with one don't look at the brunettes that walk by and...
Never, never, never check out the young man with brunette hair directly behind the Blonde at the bar!!
Blondes are afraid of losing game!
...and of course to help them through this time, the pharmaceutical commies have something to help.
A peepee hardener pill.
For a man, he doesn't need to lose weight, he doesn't need antidepressants.
He just needs a pill that will make the 'General' go from flacid to fabulously firm for eight hours.
No wonder all the men leave their wives when they hit midlife crisis.
With a penis that is so hopped up on drugs, its irrational behavior has them seeking out twenty something girls to keep their crack head (pun intended) tweaking until it comes down from the high.
I blame the pharmie commies for the high rate of divorce. That and not having separate bathrooms.
Stop watching each other pee for cricky sakes!!
Blondes say NO to drugs!!
McCain, don't bash socialism, at least they pay for medical and they don't crash markets with corporate greed!!
With regard to Obama...I haven't listened to enough of his speeches to get pissed into commenting!!
Blondes hate politics!!
It is tiring hanging out in a dank office waiting your turn to drive and when so many volunteers are pushy and in the coordinators face wanting the best ones to drive, I was under utilized and done with the whole affair after only a couple of days. Beisdes, I was never going to earn enough points to enjoy a festival badge because the coordinator booked her faves for the extra time.
I decided to spend my time at the Driskill bar just people watching and drinking my wine, which was far more productive as far as enjoying myself.
I may have not met anyone in the industry but I did get to play an actress for a bit.
I found it fun to carry on 'shock conversations' with my friend for the couple sitting behind our love seat. The older gentleman's ear fell off when we began to talk of the Sugardaddy / Sugarbaby web site we played on.
I handed the gentleman back his ear and once it was safely back on his head, we acted out our improv scripts.
We talked about how great it was to be a Mistress to a married man; no strings attached, no commitment, just a whole lot of fun.
And anyone who reads my blog will realize how good an actress I must be to pull off those comments without snorting wine out my nose.
We could barely contain our laughter when I got up to go to the bathroom and the gent's wife followed me in to make sure her husband didn't.
The Blonde loves to act!!
Spiritual herpes exists!!
Having the pleasure of dining with the Captain last night, I am in wonderment of spiritual guidance and those that seek it no matter the avenue they choose as their guide.
The theme of the night started in the car on the way to downtown.
I put the top down and cranked the radio..The DJ was interviewing a psychic. The psychic was describing her ability to be in touch with the aura and psychic energy of callers.
Without knowing it, this would set the tone of the evening.
A wicked co-inky dink was about to unfold.
Dealing with the supernatural, one has to wonder if that little tidbit of radio station would arm me against forces that might otherwise slip by me without a second thought.
With that radio talk, someone was telling me to be careful because maybe the world is more than coincidences and I should walk away from bad influences no matter how much I adore them for their dis-functionality.
I am trying to improve my lot in this world and maybe cavorting with the wrong friends could inhibit me from being with the right ones for me.
I ordered the margs just as the Captain walked up to the bar.
This was psychic herpes, a plague, a disease of which, if I did not remove myself, I would catch it and be alone forever. The Captain believed he was cast a spell by his first girlfriend and forever doomed. He talked of voodoo on the islands and how his love was, for a brief moment possessed by a spirit that wanted a little ecstasy of the flesh so she took the Captain's love for a heated sexual encounter.
When the spirit left, the girlfriend came to, and was a little more than p.o.'ed, that he cheated on her with the dead chick.
The evidence was clear.. he was in bed naked with obvious signs of copulation.\
Denial is futile!!
The Captain was from the islands and voodoo is strong there, and while I don’t believe in any one religion I do believe in a little of all and I am selective in what I believe.
And I believe, if you believe, it is strong and you can do me harm or you can do me good, which ever the winds may blow at that moment.
Whether it be Christianity, Buddhism, voodoo, Wicca…
It’s more the power of the mind to believe in something.If you really listen to signs they will push you in the right direction; because quite frankly Blondes aren’t the only ones lost without faith.
And faith is not in a church, its not in a temple, it is not in a religion, its that little voice that tells you right form wrong and your heart is all you need to guide you.
Cause if you can't listen to your head in these matters.
Logic can't kill the thought of a dead girl wanting to get laid.
The Blonde had a deep moment!!
Finally, a place downtown where I have a quietly reserved place to hang my hat while I write during the Austin Film Festival, of which at the moment, I am not agreeing with so much.
The new director, is along the lines of a gestapo for volunteers. If I hear one more time, from the t-shirt natzi, to wear my ugly volunteer t-shirt, I am going to pluck every hair from her head and explain to her how I have a psychological problem with unfashionable garments and asking me to wear it two days in a row could possibly make me snap at any moment!!
I am also not thrilled with the kiss-arse couple that bogarts the talent pick up from everyone.
My final straw was when they tried to give me a couple with a baby, instead of the crew from the private leer jet!!
I headed for the nearest watering hole to work out my woes and thank Gah, Stephen F Austin had everything I had been missing downtown, from free wifi to proper red wine goblets.
I found a bit of civilization downtown!!
Stephen F Austin is my sanctuary as I extend a helping hand!!
Blondes charity only goes so far!!
After getting an extremely close shave, pop of the head (pun intended), and give yourself a little something, something!!
The great thing about this technologically advanced shaving device is its ability to hide under the radar as a razor but really one must ask themselves?
Why is it being advertised as a man's razor?
Ladies, put down your pink whatever and pick up a man's shaving tool for the closest shave you will ever enjoy!!
Blondes love two kill two birds with one stone!!
Thank you, Governor Perry, for the Katrina trash lingering on every corner of 6th.
Thank you for the paint can sniffers, the drug dealers, and the wacked out, looking for a hand out or a fight, depending on what cleaning product they sniffed.
Thank you for putting the homeless shelter right across the street from the liquor store.
Thank you for killing the music scene and replacing it with urban sprawl and crime.
Thank you for allowing me to feel safer in New York City than my own home town.
Thank you for nothing!!!!
Blondes are out of thank you cards!!!
Take your sheet off and be a man or a woman and own up to your negative comments.
I am not afraid to be bashed, nor beaten, nor dragged in the mud for the truth I believe.
You should aspire to do the same.
Maybe if you weren't so afraid to speak out, our country would have done the right thing and revolted against greed!!!
Blondes hate hidden agendas!!
Palin has shown nothing more than her small town mentality at slinging bologne hash to make the click follow her. Anyone who follows someone that doesn't have the class or the intelligence to fight based on their own merits needs to keep their pink flamingos in the back yard.
Did I just see Palin at the Cheesecake Factory?
I am not a fan of Obama either, but realizing he may be n arrogant prick because he quit smoking on the campaign trail makes me feel better about his candidacy than a post traumatic war veteran who went 'Hockey' Mom on me!!
I vote for Canada to take over!!
I do have one Blonde question?
Why do we have a former terrorist allowed to be a professor?!!
The Blonde has yet to register and still wonders why she should!!!
My catty factor can go from 0 to 12 in a moments notice when trapped in a provincial haven such as the Cheesecake Factory at the Arboretum.
First, let me send an outcry to the inhumanity of serving village sized proportions of food on a single plate for the fat to feed. It was almost torture not to send an outcry to the woman in the sundress getting up from the booth who looked like a walking floral sofa.
Put down the fries and eat broccoli, you cow!!
Next was the Long Island Ice teas ordered by the couple next to me.
Come on!!! Who, without a fake ID orders that crap!!
Moving on to the high school crowed..AKA.. the future rednecks of the world!!
This particular night was a homecoming game. Texan girls decked out in JC Penny satin dresses and armed with little to no manners coming to celebrate something stupid like football and losing their virginity before the next Prom Night.
The very lovely, overly lip-glossed, pudgy chicks from the country high school celebrate by taking up the entire counter of the ladies room to apply more make up and hairspray to kill, not only a few cows across the border, but the the ozone future of our offsprings just to secure their doo's in an effort to bag the football player in the back of some cheesy car; forever surrendering their virtue to an idiot that will be manager of a carpet store in the near future.
As I waited politely for them to take notice that others existed beyond the cattle red rope, it was evident they were in their own little world.
I took it upon myself to give them a lesson in etiquette...subtly.
I delicately reminded them that while its nice to look made up on the outside; that putting red lipstick on a pig didn't take the place of the real beauty that exist from within when showing a bit of decency toward others.
Being gracious enough to see that others exist in this world and need the sink, is a far more lady like thing to do than to apply lip gloss to the point that it looks like they choked on a fried pork chop.
Blondes hate gluttony!!
because I was stuck in a cooking class and helped a girl get a rifle into a dance club and then the cops wouldn't listen to me!
Then I ended up in a consignment shop where the sales ladies ignored me because I said I was a Mistress who bed wedded men, to the girl with the rifle, and I really wanted the pretty little pink Burberry scarf and Christian Louboutin spectator pumps that were high on the wall... and they wouldn't let me have them!
and then I woke up!
The Blonde needs to stop dreaming!
I have yet to fix the sports suspension my rag top
I have to fix the steering on the sedan
I want to
the mechanics bills
I don't want my heels to go
I am as stubborn as a child when it comes to taking my cars into the shop. I hate it and want to throw little temper tantrums at the thought of walking into the service department and seeing the grin that accompanies the gentleman behind the counter.
"Well hello, little lady. How can we unload your wallet today?"
I have to spend an entire day researching, on the internet, and diagnosing my autos' problems to guard myself from blonde poachers at the auto shop. This is the time I wouldn't mind having a permanent time man on my hands.
Do you see what I am saying?
Do you see how desperate I am?
A full time man?! (shaking my head)
Now that I have reconciled the situation, Iwill be busy at the auto shop today.
Blondes have to pay for some things!