Of all my friends, Captain Caribbean has to be my all time favorite. I am so in love with his story telling that I can't wait for margaritas and a moon to listen of his tales with exotic women.
Far from the exotic shores, the Captain settles his sails for titty dancers, latin persuasion hotties, and stress reducing rituals with happy endings, which sadly enough for him, came to an abrupt halt when a sting operation shut his Mamma San down.
Tonight's plate of forbidden fruit was laid out with tales of the colorful and offbeat religion of santeria. 'Santeria' also known as Regla de Ocha, which is spanish for 'one who works the spirits' had my blonde arm hairs in a prickled state.
The Captain has a pretty little lass who has become an Iyalorishas (high priestess) and she invited him to a party celebrating her deceased Mother. The party was hidden behind an unassuming store filled with santa maria candles and religious artifacts on the east side of town where white skin and a Range Rover Sport with pop daddy hot rims and super sport upgrades is a beacon for paroling squad cars looking for a major drug bust. Even with the heat burning his bumper, the Captain did not sway from his invitation.
The Captain was greeted by a very large dark cuban man that ushered him to a large room behind the store. There he was greeted by his twenty something treat, 3 chickens in a cage, an albino in a pimp daddy suit, and a white dove who sat above an altar table of offerings. Along the walls was an endless array of congo drums and spirited musicians banging rhythmically away.
The white dove was the encapsulated spirit of the deceased; the albino was the new sugar daddy of the priestess; the cuban fellow was just a bouncer, and the 3 chickens now have their heads on a milk carton asking if you have seen them.
The Captain enjoyed the party and the only odd thing he was asked to do was smear a cucumber on his face and lay it on the table beneath the dove. I googled this ritual and it is called 'cleansing of palo mayo'. The Captain was being cleansed of bad spirits that have him plagued for a life long sentence of bachelorism and non-monogamous relationships.
This chica, the priestess, has been on the captain's tail coat to move in and settle down, like any woman interested in a man would want, but I have to applaud her bravado and the great extent as to which she will go through to cure my friend of his philandering. A blonde chick would never be so creative.
After slurping our frozen margs down in a casual pace, I left the Captain behind thinking I would visit him for a few more rounds at the hacienda, but something stopped me this time. Perhaps it was the thought of Mother dove sitting on his cucumber that had me head straight for home instead.
The Blonde was spiritually guided!!
3.10.2009
3.09.2009
Those Snakes
How utterly apropos is it to find this lingering outside my door as I left to deal with the bank?
While banks, on a whole, are as slithery as my new found friend, their employees are not hideous creatures and are willing to help a blonde out. All my charges were reversed by a super handsome bank manager called Eduardo.
The Blonde is back in the garden of green!!!
While banks, on a whole, are as slithery as my new found friend, their employees are not hideous creatures and are willing to help a blonde out. All my charges were reversed by a super handsome bank manager called Eduardo.The Blonde is back in the garden of green!!!
We Don't Need No Stinkin Banks, Man!
I have a plethora of funny and fab tales but unfortunately today is the day I have to clear up some bank fraud with my account and prepare my taxes, so needless to say, my humor is on hold.
Bank of America is a good bank but they are a sneaky little outfit sometimes. Twice they have double debited items and if it were not for my deliciously low funds, I would not catch their errors.
Due to bounce fees without a negative and without transactions to account for it, I have caught them once again.
I can only wonder how many people don't catch banks accounting glitches and pay the $35 fee thinking they are at fault. I guess it only becomes a problem when billions of dollars are at stake.
In times of economic struggle I understand thievery is on the rise but its easier to spot your missing bike than it is to see how fraudulent accounting practices end up hurting the average blonde and everyone else with darker shades of hair.
Banks and credit card companies are the new Bonnie and Clyde of our times. They may not carry guns but they are definitely shooting off the hand that feeds their greed.
The Blonde is policing banks today!!
Bank of America is a good bank but they are a sneaky little outfit sometimes. Twice they have double debited items and if it were not for my deliciously low funds, I would not catch their errors.
Due to bounce fees without a negative and without transactions to account for it, I have caught them once again.
I can only wonder how many people don't catch banks accounting glitches and pay the $35 fee thinking they are at fault. I guess it only becomes a problem when billions of dollars are at stake.
In times of economic struggle I understand thievery is on the rise but its easier to spot your missing bike than it is to see how fraudulent accounting practices end up hurting the average blonde and everyone else with darker shades of hair.
Banks and credit card companies are the new Bonnie and Clyde of our times. They may not carry guns but they are definitely shooting off the hand that feeds their greed.
The Blonde is policing banks today!!
3.06.2009
My Iphones Funky Foot Fetish
My iphone has spawned into a voyeur. It seems the sneaky shutterbug, has a thing for my feet. Every time I try to use the camera feature for a quick pose, my trusty little cell uses its little camera icon button to deceive me into a foot photo.
I am trying hard not to judge my iphone but it is a little creepy if you ask me. I was thinking about putting my iphone into therapy but I can't find a Doctor willing to work with the little guy.
Go figure?!
I think therapy for my iphone and my electronics would be appreciated. I could get my toaster to stop burning my toast over feelings of being inadequate next to the microwave. A therapist could have told me to move it to the counter near the wimpy can opener to give it positive self image.
Maybe I can find some alternative therapy like a hypnotist that would be willing to work with my iphone's fetish, my can opener's desire to squirt tuna juice, and my alarm clocks unwillingness to reset itself to snooze a few times instead of making me do it.
The Blonde has some ill thoughts!!
3.05.2009
3.03.2009
Dallas Wants to Eat My Mini Cow
Dallas wants to raise mini cows and turn them into sliders at your local brew pub.
And while I love sliders, especially with cheese...I do not want to think that one of those tasty treats had a name, or was a pet!
Dallas can have mini cows for milking only!!
He can evaporate the milk, bottle it in cute glass baby bottles with pink ribbon, and sell it as 'mini moo-moo milk bath' in exclusive boutiques in New York and LA.
But he will not be raising them to send to the butcher.
How can you even think of looking in those big mini cow eyes and telling them they are going to be baby back ribs at Chilis?!
Blondes are chickening out!!
And while I love sliders, especially with cheese...I do not want to think that one of those tasty treats had a name, or was a pet!
Dallas can have mini cows for milking only!!
He can evaporate the milk, bottle it in cute glass baby bottles with pink ribbon, and sell it as 'mini moo-moo milk bath' in exclusive boutiques in New York and LA.
But he will not be raising them to send to the butcher.
How can you even think of looking in those big mini cow eyes and telling them they are going to be baby back ribs at Chilis?!
Blondes are chickening out!!
2.27.2009
Cookie Monster
'Mother' could not curb her appetite for murder even when children were around last week. She has been hording christmas cookies in an undisclosed location and upon there demise she set them down on the counter for the blonde's discovery.
If you will notice she set them down, in such a manner, as to make the cookies look edible.
Submitted into evidence, photo 1
As you can see, the cookies look normal considering the blonde, whom did not have her contacts in, and in conjunction with early morning stammering without her morning coffee, she clearly saw decent cookies.
The blonde then on her second cup of morning coffee and with contacts in, decided to have another. As she reached for a cookie, she discovered a bad batch that was hideously hidden by the sheer manipulation of turning a bag over.
Submitted into evidence, photo 2
Clearly, you can see several cookies missing, that blondie ate, and with the bag turned upside down, you will see the mold infested cookies that were purposely disguised as an edible cookie by the defendant...AKA Mother.
The only defense 'Mother' offers; she claims mold is the organic version of penicillin in its purest form, and thus was trying to cure me and not kill me.
Hogwash, I say!!
Hogwash!!
I feel this travesty has gone on far enough, and I ask everyone outside their glass house to rule in favor of the blonde.
Repeatedly trying to kill a blonde is an offense worth punishing. I ask for no leniency in this matter.
The Blonde rests her crumbling case!!
If you will notice she set them down, in such a manner, as to make the cookies look edible.
Submitted into evidence, photo 1
As you can see, the cookies look normal considering the blonde, whom did not have her contacts in, and in conjunction with early morning stammering without her morning coffee, she clearly saw decent cookies.
The blonde then on her second cup of morning coffee and with contacts in, decided to have another. As she reached for a cookie, she discovered a bad batch that was hideously hidden by the sheer manipulation of turning a bag over.
Submitted into evidence, photo 2
Clearly, you can see several cookies missing, that blondie ate, and with the bag turned upside down, you will see the mold infested cookies that were purposely disguised as an edible cookie by the defendant...AKA Mother.The only defense 'Mother' offers; she claims mold is the organic version of penicillin in its purest form, and thus was trying to cure me and not kill me.
Hogwash, I say!!
Hogwash!!
I feel this travesty has gone on far enough, and I ask everyone outside their glass house to rule in favor of the blonde.
Repeatedly trying to kill a blonde is an offense worth punishing. I ask for no leniency in this matter.
The Blonde rests her crumbling case!!
Fashion in the Toilet
2.26.2009
Holy Cow!!
My friend Dallas is in big doo doo. Well, he will be, because I have wanted a mini cow for awhile, and now I have found one!! Since I live in a snooty neighborhood with an association, I don't think my mini cow would go over very well. But Dallas has a ranch and I want to board my mini cow at his place.
I guess I should ask him before I buy one, but that would give him the chance to say NO.
You can't say no to a blonde when she really, really wants something.
Just ask my mom and sis!!
I remember in the 5th grade, I wanted the most beautiful butterfly shirt and my mom didn't buy it, or so I thought. I made my entire family a wreck about that blouse. Actually, my mother did buy the blouse and was holding it as an Easter surprise, but I did not know that, and I shed terror on the family. I was such a little heathen about it, my mom and sister pulled my blouse out of hiding and threw it at me, and said, "Here...we can't take it any more!"
I was so excited to see my shirt, that I failed to see the wreckage I made of my family.
I would like to say I am sorry, but I am not. I got my shirt and I loved it soooo much, I wore it out wearing it all the time. I think I proved to my family that it was worth the pain I caused. I was appreciative of that blouse and so I have nothing to apologize for.
Dallas, I want that mini cow just as bad as that blouse, so you are in a world of hurt if I can't use your ranch for my mini cow.
The Blonde is bovinely inspired to get her way!!
2.24.2009
Can I have Candy?
Of course you can!!
My job as an Aunt, is to let my niece and nephew get a way with sheer murder, while in my presence, and then politely hand them back to mommy, after I have wittled away at their perfectly honed manners.
They have since left the building and its quiet without the children and the anarchy, of which I created with my simple arsenal of pandemonium; just a few bottles of coke, ice cream sandwiches, and the old bits of candy my Mother stashed away in a candy jar.
The candy came to my attention early in the morning, before my first cup of coffee. Knowing I am the commander in charge of sneaky behavior, the children came to me with the discovery. The candy was shaped like little fruits and vegetables. They did not say they found the candy, they merely asked if they could have the candy.
I said yes.
I am the Aunt and as far as I am concerned, they can have whatever they want because I know where to return them when the sugar kicks in.
Ah...Ah....Ah...the evilness of it all!
I love it!!
Now, to my defense, I thought the fruit and vegetable shaped candy belonged to my nieces Barbie kitchen playhouse. I did not realize it was candy my Mother hid away 15 years ago in a candy jar in the formal living area. It looked fine to me. Candy and Twinkies don't have an expiration date; plus what doesn't poison the munchkins, will make them stronger. Right?
I tried the candy, it was fine, and so I let the sugar rush begin.
Just as they were happily gobbling up the candy, my Mother comes down the hall.
Oh No!
Nanna went into a five minute discussion of why they can't eat the candy. Meanwhile, my sister over hears the lecture and comes barreling down the hall. She gives the children another five minute dissertation on stale candy and applied her nursing degree to thoroughly ruin the moment.
Then, Nanna and Martha Stuey attacked me with a stereophonic debate on, why I should not allow the children to have stale candy.
After 15 minutes of a non-stop dual-verbal beating, minus my cup of coffee, and the fact I was woken up at dawn by my precious little comrades...I got a tad gusty and guffawed off to my room at the end of the hall, to smother the ongoing commitment to describing botulism to children, and to proclaim my disgust in the older generation of paranoid parenting and grand parenting.
I was given a reprieve when they left me behind to go to the zoo, for the entire afternoon. I took that time to relish in the quietness of it all and to regroup with another disatisfactory decision, when the children came back.
Auntie V!
Auntie V!
What are we going to do now?!
Well, my little petunias. We are going to watch House Bunny downstairs, have several coca colas that have been sitting in the fridge for a year, and eat 3 month old candy kisses from the refrigerator.
Yeah!!!
You are our favorite Auntie!!
Auntie Blondie is way too sweet!!!
My job as an Aunt, is to let my niece and nephew get a way with sheer murder, while in my presence, and then politely hand them back to mommy, after I have wittled away at their perfectly honed manners.
They have since left the building and its quiet without the children and the anarchy, of which I created with my simple arsenal of pandemonium; just a few bottles of coke, ice cream sandwiches, and the old bits of candy my Mother stashed away in a candy jar.
The candy came to my attention early in the morning, before my first cup of coffee. Knowing I am the commander in charge of sneaky behavior, the children came to me with the discovery. The candy was shaped like little fruits and vegetables. They did not say they found the candy, they merely asked if they could have the candy.
I said yes.
I am the Aunt and as far as I am concerned, they can have whatever they want because I know where to return them when the sugar kicks in.
Ah...Ah....Ah...the evilness of it all!
I love it!!
Now, to my defense, I thought the fruit and vegetable shaped candy belonged to my nieces Barbie kitchen playhouse. I did not realize it was candy my Mother hid away 15 years ago in a candy jar in the formal living area. It looked fine to me. Candy and Twinkies don't have an expiration date; plus what doesn't poison the munchkins, will make them stronger. Right?
I tried the candy, it was fine, and so I let the sugar rush begin.
Just as they were happily gobbling up the candy, my Mother comes down the hall.
Oh No!
Nanna went into a five minute discussion of why they can't eat the candy. Meanwhile, my sister over hears the lecture and comes barreling down the hall. She gives the children another five minute dissertation on stale candy and applied her nursing degree to thoroughly ruin the moment.
Then, Nanna and Martha Stuey attacked me with a stereophonic debate on, why I should not allow the children to have stale candy.
After 15 minutes of a non-stop dual-verbal beating, minus my cup of coffee, and the fact I was woken up at dawn by my precious little comrades...I got a tad gusty and guffawed off to my room at the end of the hall, to smother the ongoing commitment to describing botulism to children, and to proclaim my disgust in the older generation of paranoid parenting and grand parenting.
I was given a reprieve when they left me behind to go to the zoo, for the entire afternoon. I took that time to relish in the quietness of it all and to regroup with another disatisfactory decision, when the children came back.
Auntie V!
Auntie V!
What are we going to do now?!
Well, my little petunias. We are going to watch House Bunny downstairs, have several coca colas that have been sitting in the fridge for a year, and eat 3 month old candy kisses from the refrigerator.
Yeah!!!
You are our favorite Auntie!!
Auntie Blondie is way too sweet!!!
2.23.2009
A Bone To Pick
How to explain a chicken leg to a child:
The Blonde Version:
Child, you know chicken nuggets. Well, this is a chicken drum, it has a bone in it. Just eat the meat around the outside and put the bone on your plate.
The neurotic, micro-managing older model Mom version:
Child! That is a chicken with a bone!
You can't eat that! You are only 4. Just because you know every name of the Star Wars characters and you have a full set of teeth and you can use the bathroom doesn't mean you can eat a chicken drum with 4 adults watching and sitting next to you in case you bite the bone and it could splinter into a thousand pieces and lodge into your tummy where it could start bleeding and then we would have to rush you to the hospital where they will have to take a large needle and sew up the holes that poked through your tummy because your Aunt was crazy enough to give you chinese chicken drum!!!
I would use punctuation but since my sister doesn't take a breath during her rants and I didn't want to lose the essence with coherent sentences...
The Blonde's eardrum is splintered!!!
The Blonde Version:
Child, you know chicken nuggets. Well, this is a chicken drum, it has a bone in it. Just eat the meat around the outside and put the bone on your plate.
The neurotic, micro-managing older model Mom version:
Child! That is a chicken with a bone!
You can't eat that! You are only 4. Just because you know every name of the Star Wars characters and you have a full set of teeth and you can use the bathroom doesn't mean you can eat a chicken drum with 4 adults watching and sitting next to you in case you bite the bone and it could splinter into a thousand pieces and lodge into your tummy where it could start bleeding and then we would have to rush you to the hospital where they will have to take a large needle and sew up the holes that poked through your tummy because your Aunt was crazy enough to give you chinese chicken drum!!!
I would use punctuation but since my sister doesn't take a breath during her rants and I didn't want to lose the essence with coherent sentences...
The Blonde's eardrum is splintered!!!
And the Oscar Goes To...
The Blonde
for portraying the favorite Aunt. Its a short film, if it were any longer; I would be getting an award for suicidal Aunt.
It is a a shame that you cannot enjoy children without the parent, I would have had a great time without Martha Steuy and her non-stop nagging.
I am almost at the point of wanting to bash my beaten down body between those cell phone talking, menopausal, selfish, arrogant freaks of Motherhood in SUV's and minivans that float obnoxious bumper stickers on their rear window showing me and everyone else who does not give a crap that their precious Suzie is in band, and her baby Tommy is on the football team.
While I love my sister, she is the epitome of everything I can't stand in an older model Mother. During this week, I will go into more detail about the headache and the hives I have had to endure for an entire week of family reunion time.
But for now, I need to stick my head in the oven before they get back from the zoo.
Blondes will never do a sequel!!!
for portraying the favorite Aunt. Its a short film, if it were any longer; I would be getting an award for suicidal Aunt.
It is a a shame that you cannot enjoy children without the parent, I would have had a great time without Martha Steuy and her non-stop nagging.
I am almost at the point of wanting to bash my beaten down body between those cell phone talking, menopausal, selfish, arrogant freaks of Motherhood in SUV's and minivans that float obnoxious bumper stickers on their rear window showing me and everyone else who does not give a crap that their precious Suzie is in band, and her baby Tommy is on the football team.
While I love my sister, she is the epitome of everything I can't stand in an older model Mother. During this week, I will go into more detail about the headache and the hives I have had to endure for an entire week of family reunion time.
But for now, I need to stick my head in the oven before they get back from the zoo.
Blondes will never do a sequel!!!
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