Dallas has spun some stories far more interesting than the Captain and I am enthralled once again of colorful accounts too far fetched to write from my imagination, no matter how many bottles of vino I drink before settling down to write.
Dallas, as you may have read, is the gentleman who was going to allow me to board my mini cow on his ranch. But do to the fact, I do not trust him enough not to turn my mini cow into sliders and ribs, and the fact that while its fun to think of owning a mini cow...its still a cow and I have enough issues with my cat's litter box, I have quickly put mini cow ownership on a reality halt.
The story of Testes the fish started a long time ago. Dallas was camping with friends near Garner State park, along side a large lake. In the darkest of evenings as he sat pondering his adulthood, a fish came out of the water and talked to Dallas. I am not at liberty to discuss the conversation because, quite frankly, I was scoffenheiming the reality of the fish speaking, that I failed to hear what Testes had actually said to Dallas.
Now, Dallas swears he was not smoking anything funny that night and from knowing him not to be one to take a puff on the canibus leaf, I have to just assume he had a crazy moment.
After discussing worldly insight with Testes the fish, Dallas went back to his friends only to discover a statue named 'Mauie' perched on top of a rock. Apparently, Testes left him the gift.
I am not sure if it was Testes or Maui that brought on the following events but according to Dallas, its all true.
On 9/11,four years after the talk with Testes, way back when before the real 9/11...Dallas and his friends were shot and left for dead. Dallas has the bullet wounds to prove it!! Four years later on 9/11...Dallas' house burnt down with Maui left half charred and burnt. Four years after that 9/11, the real 9/11 happened.
I know you are probably asking yourself right about now, where do I meet these guys. Internet dating sites? Where else?!!
Anyhoo, back to crazy!
Then one night, while out drinking, Dallas ran into a a few women that said they were Wiccan and could cast a spell to protect him. And sure enough, Dallas went for it and a full blown wiccan
party entailed and candles were burnt and voila!!
Ever since then, Dallas has been free from 9/11 turmoil but I still have no intention of ever spending a September with him, considering I have not had the same spell afforded to me.
With the Captain and Dallas at the helm of my freindship list, you can certainly understand why I would find dinner parties with talks of visits to St. Barts and the economic crisis with normal peeps, a total bore.
Blondes like tall tales!!
3.15.2009
3.11.2009
The Sunscreen Song
Every year I look at my Victoria Secret bikini log, I think of 'The Sunscreen Song'. The song was created by Baz Lurhman but it was actually an article, written by Mary Schmich, for the Chicago Tribune in 1997.
Spring Break is about to hit Texas and I think of all the young hotties that will bake away in the sun not realizing that when they hit my age, they will wish they didn't (I know I am) so I, being in a generous mood tonight, have decided to offer up a social contribution. I am bringing out the decade old advice and dispensing it for future genz.
As for the videos of lude acts that will inevitably hit SEXtube....not my problem. Mamma and Daddy should have done a better job raising you!!
The Blonde never bakes!!
Spring Break is about to hit Texas and I think of all the young hotties that will bake away in the sun not realizing that when they hit my age, they will wish they didn't (I know I am) so I, being in a generous mood tonight, have decided to offer up a social contribution. I am bringing out the decade old advice and dispensing it for future genz.
As for the videos of lude acts that will inevitably hit SEXtube....not my problem. Mamma and Daddy should have done a better job raising you!!
The Blonde never bakes!!
3.10.2009
Who Knew Voo Doo?
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!!
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!!
3.09.2009
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!!!
2.17.2009
My Favorite Day
Its get drunk, turn up tunes, and pass the rainy grey day away, with fake guitar, fabulous emotions, and crappy thoughts on men.
Today, I was confronted with the fact that one of my gents doesn't sleep with girls that sleep with other guys. But it is perfectly acceptable for him to carry on goose behavior, while tossing the gander to the dark ages.
Who does he think he is kidding?
Yes, he is wealthy...big deal!! So is every man I date!!
Dating men with money is like window shopping. They will parade you around things that you want, but they make it clear, that its not yours...so where is the prize in that?!!
I am a twenty first century biatch and I know the rules of the game...I am not born under 30 years ago and I don't think I want to be. Why would I want to go through another idiot period of believing in the fools that show me around the top of their mountain, only to be marched down it and told I am not worthy.
Guess what?
It is you who is not worthy of me!!
Your so roped up in what you have, that you believe that is all you have to offer.
How sad because you dont even offer that beyond the visual.
I have learned to live with nothing and so your fortune means nothing!!
Go find someone who cares...I will float the cell phone bill.
Leave me alone, please.
I, like the rest of the world sit and look at our wish magazines like Vogue and ultimate real estate catalogs. Its all non-fiction and I, like everyone else, can get lost in all its dreamy glory.
But I wake up and see the truth.
If a man thinks he is the bomb, because he represents the pics from a mag I read in passing, it is beyond my rolling eyes.
Millions of peeps pick up rag mags to see a life they only dream of, even if its a life of turmoil...its a life that affords the famous and wealthy the few days needed to cry and pout at their leisure until they are ready to face the world again. That is what makes the average Joe envious of these made up mag lives...not the money, but the money that affords a break, when your feeling down.
In the real world...you can't sneeze without thinking your retirement has just been staked.
I hurt thinking about the fact that we bailed out the top 10 % while the bottom 90% is so tired in their struggle to pay the bills, that they read the newspaper, as if its another Paris Hilton story, without standing up to the atrocities and persecuting the men responsible for their current situation.
Won't anyone stand up?!
I am beginning to dislike the wealthy for throwing their arrogance in my face. Take your wannabe french biatch attitude with the wigs and stuff it up your pampered arse.
I have been in this dating arena so long, I know all the moves, and bragging about what you have doesn't bring me closer to having what I need, so spare me...please!!
You think because you have money, you automatically win?
If that were the case, all the wealthy and the famous would be in a state of glee, and Barnes and Noble would be short on biographies of the distraught, poor, little, rich me stories that so many surfs love to read.
And Marie Antoinette would have died with her head on!
The Blonde needs a stronger entitlement plaque remover!!!
Today, I was confronted with the fact that one of my gents doesn't sleep with girls that sleep with other guys. But it is perfectly acceptable for him to carry on goose behavior, while tossing the gander to the dark ages.
Who does he think he is kidding?
Yes, he is wealthy...big deal!! So is every man I date!!
Dating men with money is like window shopping. They will parade you around things that you want, but they make it clear, that its not yours...so where is the prize in that?!!
I am a twenty first century biatch and I know the rules of the game...I am not born under 30 years ago and I don't think I want to be. Why would I want to go through another idiot period of believing in the fools that show me around the top of their mountain, only to be marched down it and told I am not worthy.
Guess what?
It is you who is not worthy of me!!
Your so roped up in what you have, that you believe that is all you have to offer.
How sad because you dont even offer that beyond the visual.
I have learned to live with nothing and so your fortune means nothing!!
Go find someone who cares...I will float the cell phone bill.
Leave me alone, please.
I, like the rest of the world sit and look at our wish magazines like Vogue and ultimate real estate catalogs. Its all non-fiction and I, like everyone else, can get lost in all its dreamy glory.
But I wake up and see the truth.
If a man thinks he is the bomb, because he represents the pics from a mag I read in passing, it is beyond my rolling eyes.
Millions of peeps pick up rag mags to see a life they only dream of, even if its a life of turmoil...its a life that affords the famous and wealthy the few days needed to cry and pout at their leisure until they are ready to face the world again. That is what makes the average Joe envious of these made up mag lives...not the money, but the money that affords a break, when your feeling down.
In the real world...you can't sneeze without thinking your retirement has just been staked.
I hurt thinking about the fact that we bailed out the top 10 % while the bottom 90% is so tired in their struggle to pay the bills, that they read the newspaper, as if its another Paris Hilton story, without standing up to the atrocities and persecuting the men responsible for their current situation.
Won't anyone stand up?!
I am beginning to dislike the wealthy for throwing their arrogance in my face. Take your wannabe french biatch attitude with the wigs and stuff it up your pampered arse.
I have been in this dating arena so long, I know all the moves, and bragging about what you have doesn't bring me closer to having what I need, so spare me...please!!
You think because you have money, you automatically win?
If that were the case, all the wealthy and the famous would be in a state of glee, and Barnes and Noble would be short on biographies of the distraught, poor, little, rich me stories that so many surfs love to read.
And Marie Antoinette would have died with her head on!
The Blonde needs a stronger entitlement plaque remover!!!
2.16.2009
Kiss And Tell
Never...but I will spill the beans on my trip to Horseshoe Bay for V day.
Horseshoe Bay's Marriott has about as much class and customer service as a snail's shell. The wallpaper and flooring leading into the rooms will make you dizzy, even without the haze of wine. Your better off jet setting to a Mexico Beach.
I talked to several couples that were there for the valentine weekend and they waited 3 hours for dinner. They would have left but since it was a weekend package, they wanted their moneys worth. I don't blame them but I would have left and gone to the yacht club for dinner.
I loved the coziness of the yacht club bar and restaurant, it was the company sharing the bar that made me want to gag. Men, bragging to other men about what they do and how much they make. My theory is, if your alone on Valentines, in the middle of know where and you talk about thousands and not millions...you are nothing to brag about.
Anyhoo,
My date and I went back to the room for a little 'light reading', and afterward we decided to trail down to the bar and sit outside by the water before going back to our 'reading'. We tried to get someone to help us light the heat lamp, give us matches, and serve us drinks...forget it.
We were on our own.
No apology from management, as a matter of fact, Benji, the manager actually had an attitude and said he talked to several tables and they were fine. What Benji failed to mention is he was hanging with his regulars at the bar and making sure they were taken care of while the rest of the weekend guests, were left thinking they won't make Horseshoe Bay Marriott a second mistake.
I gently walked Benji over to several tables and asked the couples that weren't regulars, how was their stay. One woman grabbed Benji's arm and would not let go until she filled him with all of her complaints. As I walked a way feeling satisfied someone was getting heard, a petite and leathered she devil cronie of Benji's, grabbed my arm and asked who was I?
I told her to kindly remove her claws and that I was the one who was going to make sure the resort lost a star in their rating.
Horseshoe Bay is a great area if you never left Texas, can't afford to leave Texas, or like the Holiday Inn.
Blonde have plenty of lip service!!!
Horseshoe Bay's Marriott has about as much class and customer service as a snail's shell. The wallpaper and flooring leading into the rooms will make you dizzy, even without the haze of wine. Your better off jet setting to a Mexico Beach.
I talked to several couples that were there for the valentine weekend and they waited 3 hours for dinner. They would have left but since it was a weekend package, they wanted their moneys worth. I don't blame them but I would have left and gone to the yacht club for dinner.
I loved the coziness of the yacht club bar and restaurant, it was the company sharing the bar that made me want to gag. Men, bragging to other men about what they do and how much they make. My theory is, if your alone on Valentines, in the middle of know where and you talk about thousands and not millions...you are nothing to brag about.
Anyhoo,
My date and I went back to the room for a little 'light reading', and afterward we decided to trail down to the bar and sit outside by the water before going back to our 'reading'. We tried to get someone to help us light the heat lamp, give us matches, and serve us drinks...forget it.
We were on our own.
No apology from management, as a matter of fact, Benji, the manager actually had an attitude and said he talked to several tables and they were fine. What Benji failed to mention is he was hanging with his regulars at the bar and making sure they were taken care of while the rest of the weekend guests, were left thinking they won't make Horseshoe Bay Marriott a second mistake.
I gently walked Benji over to several tables and asked the couples that weren't regulars, how was their stay. One woman grabbed Benji's arm and would not let go until she filled him with all of her complaints. As I walked a way feeling satisfied someone was getting heard, a petite and leathered she devil cronie of Benji's, grabbed my arm and asked who was I?
I told her to kindly remove her claws and that I was the one who was going to make sure the resort lost a star in their rating.
Horseshoe Bay is a great area if you never left Texas, can't afford to leave Texas, or like the Holiday Inn.
Blonde have plenty of lip service!!!
2.14.2009
2.11.2009
Be My Valentine
What does that mean?
What is it to be someone's valentine if you are going to sit at home alone on Valentine weekend?
St. Valentine was persecuted and executed because he would not turn on his religion. How that ended up into a holiday of little love cards with hearts on them, I will never know.
Suddenly, I am hit with a bit of melancholy.
Thank you, Hallmark, for reminding me what a loser I am for not having a significant other. Do you have a sympathy card for those of us alone on your paper thin heart's holiday?
I don't even think I made the FTD list for conciliatory bouquets this year. In the past I was inindated with flowers from gents interested in keeping me on the line without any real intention of hooking me in for more than a novelty relationship.
This year I am down graded to emails saying, "Miss you, Be my Valentine."
Sigh!!
Hmmmm!!!
Sigh!!!
I guess I will be ordering in romantic movies from Netflix and cuddling up in bed with my cat, letting the festivities of this romantic holiday pass me by, again.
Sigh!!!
The Blonde has an aching heart!!
What is it to be someone's valentine if you are going to sit at home alone on Valentine weekend?
St. Valentine was persecuted and executed because he would not turn on his religion. How that ended up into a holiday of little love cards with hearts on them, I will never know.
Suddenly, I am hit with a bit of melancholy.
Thank you, Hallmark, for reminding me what a loser I am for not having a significant other. Do you have a sympathy card for those of us alone on your paper thin heart's holiday?
I don't even think I made the FTD list for conciliatory bouquets this year. In the past I was inindated with flowers from gents interested in keeping me on the line without any real intention of hooking me in for more than a novelty relationship.
This year I am down graded to emails saying, "Miss you, Be my Valentine."
Sigh!!
Hmmmm!!!
Sigh!!!
I guess I will be ordering in romantic movies from Netflix and cuddling up in bed with my cat, letting the festivities of this romantic holiday pass me by, again.
Sigh!!!
The Blonde has an aching heart!!
2.10.2009
Blondism
Blonde wisdom for the male masses!!
Blondes may not be delicate little flowers but our egos are!
I have been blue about my looks. And the only reason I am blue is because of Dallas. I have heard one too many times how hot the Ex is. I am sure she is, so why slum with me?
My darling men,
Never!
Never!
Never!!
Never!
Never!
Never!!
Never, tell a blonde how hot another girl is, unless you back it up with...but your hotter.
I live in this wonderful fantasy world, where I think I am the hottest thing out there, and trying to convince me there is something better is only going to make my little blonde bangs, blow up into a little tantrum, telling you to...
"Go get her!"
If you don't think I am the bomb blond shell, then move on.
I realize their are hotter chicks than me, but there shouldn't be any to my man. And if he does see something hotter, she better be a fantasy girl, movie star, or penthouse playmate.
And since Dallas has told me on numerous occasion that his Ex is so hot, I think he should get her back or at least get someone just as hot. Apparently, there is a girl in Houston better than me, too.
When I talk about my Ex's, I throw in things like they are bad in bed, or have nose hair growing out of one nostril. I am sure men would get their feelings hurt if I bragged about how much money the Ex had or that they were awesomely hung. but I don't. When you begin a relationship comparing yourself to someone that you don't think you can ever fill their shoes, you get insecure about yourself and that is never going to bring a positive outcome to a relationship.
I think Dallas should go after exactly what he wants, after all, he is a terrific guy, and terrific guys deserve everything they want.
I still want Dallas guy and it sucks to have to find a replacement when I don't want to, but I don't want to make him miserable, or myself, because I have it in my head that I am not the perfect blonde.
Of course today, to make myself feel better, I have been playing with hair and make up and generally trying to get my game back on. I have been running around in my underwear telling myself, I am hot.
Someone out there is going to think I am the hottest thing he has ever been with, and that's the man I want.
Blondes have self esteem exercises to do!!
Blondes may not be delicate little flowers but our egos are!
I have been blue about my looks. And the only reason I am blue is because of Dallas. I have heard one too many times how hot the Ex is. I am sure she is, so why slum with me?
My darling men,
Never!
Never!
Never!!
Never!
Never!
Never!!
Never, tell a blonde how hot another girl is, unless you back it up with...but your hotter.
I live in this wonderful fantasy world, where I think I am the hottest thing out there, and trying to convince me there is something better is only going to make my little blonde bangs, blow up into a little tantrum, telling you to...
"Go get her!"
If you don't think I am the bomb blond shell, then move on.
I realize their are hotter chicks than me, but there shouldn't be any to my man. And if he does see something hotter, she better be a fantasy girl, movie star, or penthouse playmate.
And since Dallas has told me on numerous occasion that his Ex is so hot, I think he should get her back or at least get someone just as hot. Apparently, there is a girl in Houston better than me, too.
When I talk about my Ex's, I throw in things like they are bad in bed, or have nose hair growing out of one nostril. I am sure men would get their feelings hurt if I bragged about how much money the Ex had or that they were awesomely hung. but I don't. When you begin a relationship comparing yourself to someone that you don't think you can ever fill their shoes, you get insecure about yourself and that is never going to bring a positive outcome to a relationship.
I think Dallas should go after exactly what he wants, after all, he is a terrific guy, and terrific guys deserve everything they want.
I still want Dallas guy and it sucks to have to find a replacement when I don't want to, but I don't want to make him miserable, or myself, because I have it in my head that I am not the perfect blonde.
Of course today, to make myself feel better, I have been playing with hair and make up and generally trying to get my game back on. I have been running around in my underwear telling myself, I am hot.
Someone out there is going to think I am the hottest thing he has ever been with, and that's the man I want.
Blondes have self esteem exercises to do!!
2.07.2009
Burying the Blog with Big Girls
After Big Sis caught wind of my recent post, I caught flack for sharing BigDaddy's past time.
I refuse to delete on basis of literary integrity but I am not above a compromise so I am popping a quick post on top of it.
I recently caught site of Jessica Simpson's new figure. She is a big girl and while I don't have a problem with big curves, I do have a problem with her being a size 12 and thinking she can wear clothes meant for a size 2. She needs to take que from women who know how to wear big well.
African American women know how to wear big well. They know what style and fashion works well for them and more importantly they are confident about their size. White girls have no clue. Jessica looks like she should be the poster child for pretty trailer trash chicks. Take off the small girl clothes and go get some Big Mamma clothes.
I think Queen Latifa is one of the prettiest women out there and she wears here size well. I also love the fact that rather than losing weight for the sake of size, she promotes losing weight to be healthy. I realize everyone is built differently and I embrace all sizes as long as its a healthy size and you wear fashion well. I do exclude obesity from my argument...there is no excuse for out right hugeness and a blatant disrespect for the bod.
Jessica, you have to options: lose weight and keep your small size clothes; or lose the small size mentality and choose to live big in clothes that fit your new bod.
Blondes want every Blonde to look good!!
Enough Drama
Its time to make Momo laugh so I am going to embarrass her with a tid bit about BigDaddy.
I was up all last night trying to tweak BigDaddy's internet connection for faster streamlining of his videos. I would like to say he was streaming reruns of M.A.S.H. , for Momo's sake, but he wasn't. He was having trouble with his YouPorn and he asked me, his not so innocent, not so young daughter to fix the buffering time.
Big Daddy loves his porn and in his older gentile age, he is not shy about it.
I want him to have a happy homecoming and so I was busy working on it last night for him. I don't know exactly what video he was interested in but I am fairly certain I do not want to know.
Growing up, I used to peak at his Variations books. They were filled with erotic stories and after reading a page or two, my face would go red and I would laugh and carefully put the book back in the top left hand drawer under the sink counter.
Later on in his porn pursuit, he began amassing a large video collection in his closet. When Boo was in the house and old enough to be curious, that was his way of learning about the sexual side of life.
Than BigDaddy got cable and the Playboy channels kept his interest but he was always dissappointed with the soft side of that cable channel. When I installed the internet for him and Momo, Big Daddy discovered internet porn, and knowing I was a hacker, he would ask me for the codes and sites to watch for free. I gladly gave it to him.
Now with YouPorn, BigDaddy watches free as a bird and is now a seasoned and fearless master of porn, treading the masses of internet amatuer sites, when Momo goes to bed.
When Boo came home last night to see BigDaddy, he asked me what I was doing. Being from a family that is open and honest about everything, I told him exactly what I was up to. Boo is a bit more reserved than the rest of us but he is still young and has the good sense to be embarrassed abut things so I waited for his rolled eyed reaction but he didn't bat an eye.
He just grinned and said, "Guys love their Porn."
And we love BigDaddy.
BigDaddy is coming home next week and will be faced with the fact that he can't do many things but watching his porn won't be one of them.
The Blonde fixed his buffer!!
I was up all last night trying to tweak BigDaddy's internet connection for faster streamlining of his videos. I would like to say he was streaming reruns of M.A.S.H. , for Momo's sake, but he wasn't. He was having trouble with his YouPorn and he asked me, his not so innocent, not so young daughter to fix the buffering time.
Big Daddy loves his porn and in his older gentile age, he is not shy about it.
I want him to have a happy homecoming and so I was busy working on it last night for him. I don't know exactly what video he was interested in but I am fairly certain I do not want to know.
Growing up, I used to peak at his Variations books. They were filled with erotic stories and after reading a page or two, my face would go red and I would laugh and carefully put the book back in the top left hand drawer under the sink counter.
Later on in his porn pursuit, he began amassing a large video collection in his closet. When Boo was in the house and old enough to be curious, that was his way of learning about the sexual side of life.
Than BigDaddy got cable and the Playboy channels kept his interest but he was always dissappointed with the soft side of that cable channel. When I installed the internet for him and Momo, Big Daddy discovered internet porn, and knowing I was a hacker, he would ask me for the codes and sites to watch for free. I gladly gave it to him.
Now with YouPorn, BigDaddy watches free as a bird and is now a seasoned and fearless master of porn, treading the masses of internet amatuer sites, when Momo goes to bed.
When Boo came home last night to see BigDaddy, he asked me what I was doing. Being from a family that is open and honest about everything, I told him exactly what I was up to. Boo is a bit more reserved than the rest of us but he is still young and has the good sense to be embarrassed abut things so I waited for his rolled eyed reaction but he didn't bat an eye.
He just grinned and said, "Guys love their Porn."
And we love BigDaddy.
BigDaddy is coming home next week and will be faced with the fact that he can't do many things but watching his porn won't be one of them.
The Blonde fixed his buffer!!
Oh Lord
Here comes the family!
You know the real pain in knowing someone is ill, is in the family dynamics that accompanies this knowledge. All of the sudden everyone goes into crisis mode. When slapped in the face with someone's life span coming to a close, we can't help but look at the bruise of our own mortality in the mirror and the rationalities we have been making for our own lives.
Holy Cow!!
Here comes everyone trying to resolve everything.
Dear family,
Chill out.
Don't be coming here with a heap of remorse about anything you have ever done. For Christ sakes we all know each other way too well to ever hold each others issues as personal attack against one another.
We are an emotional family.
We have issues.
We have complaints.
We have arguments.
That is who we are.
But we also love each other so much that it hurts us when one of us is hurting.
I don't want anyone hurting so I am going to spare you the emotional turmoil that you like to whip up in drama time by asking you to ask yourself one simple little, itty, bitty question.
Do you love your family?
Yes!!
Yes you do!!
That is all you need to ask yourself.
That is all you need to know to resolve past issues that are old plays and need not to find a new stage.
All this ridiculousness of thinking we didn't do enough to show our love is ridiculous. I know my family and yes, we are all, the biggest pain in the rears since the elephant began walking this earth, but we love each other for better or worse and there isn't anyone in our family that doesn't know that.
So when you come here, enjoy the fighting, the nit picking, the teasing, the laughing, the joking, the crying and most importantly enjoy the big glorious dysfunctional orgy that is our family.
Blondes can't wait for the fun to begin!!
You know the real pain in knowing someone is ill, is in the family dynamics that accompanies this knowledge. All of the sudden everyone goes into crisis mode. When slapped in the face with someone's life span coming to a close, we can't help but look at the bruise of our own mortality in the mirror and the rationalities we have been making for our own lives.
Holy Cow!!
Here comes everyone trying to resolve everything.
Dear family,
Chill out.
Don't be coming here with a heap of remorse about anything you have ever done. For Christ sakes we all know each other way too well to ever hold each others issues as personal attack against one another.
We are an emotional family.
We have issues.
We have complaints.
We have arguments.
That is who we are.
But we also love each other so much that it hurts us when one of us is hurting.
I don't want anyone hurting so I am going to spare you the emotional turmoil that you like to whip up in drama time by asking you to ask yourself one simple little, itty, bitty question.
Do you love your family?
Yes!!
Yes you do!!
That is all you need to ask yourself.
That is all you need to know to resolve past issues that are old plays and need not to find a new stage.
All this ridiculousness of thinking we didn't do enough to show our love is ridiculous. I know my family and yes, we are all, the biggest pain in the rears since the elephant began walking this earth, but we love each other for better or worse and there isn't anyone in our family that doesn't know that.
So when you come here, enjoy the fighting, the nit picking, the teasing, the laughing, the joking, the crying and most importantly enjoy the big glorious dysfunctional orgy that is our family.
Blondes can't wait for the fun to begin!!
2.06.2009
Big Blue Eyes
Did you know if you cry all day that you can make your eyes look like they have been beaten in by a rabid boxing kangaroo?
My eyes are so swollen and dark from rubbing them all day that I look like one of the Olsen twins on a cocaine binge.
Today, my number one goal is to get through it without crying. If I rub my eye sockets anymore, my eyeballs are going to pop out of my head and roll down the street to get away from my emotional wreck of a head.
I am going to fail miserably because I know I have to go with Momo and Boo to see Big Daddy today but my goal is to get to through the hospital's sliding doors before weeping like a willow.
The Blonde isn't seeing clearly!!!
2.04.2009
Endowment
I take little steps to perfect my appearance, like most Blondes do.
long hair
bronzer
make up
shaving
waxing
butt tightening exercises
pedicures
manicures
Blondes go through a lot to look good for our self and male attention. We could care less of what other women think of us. After all, this isn't a competition. Its just about being a Blonde.
I know there will always be someone prettier, thinner, hotter, and younger than me.
The most I can do is be happy about myself, and what makes me happy, is feeling good about my looks.
In my quest for superficial satisfaction I have been sporting fake french tips for a while and enjoy them. I do have trouble with a few things because of them but they aren't life threatening unless I need to call 911 in a hurry, which is near impossible, considering my nails get in the way of punching the telephone keys.
Other than dialing and texting, I never viewed my nails as a problem, until today. Today, I went to the store for some vitamins and when I went to pay for them, some coins dropped from my wallet. The woman behind me, who looked like she was using every ounce of her last dollar to buy groceries for the week said, "You dropped your change, aren't you gonna get it?"
My normal reply is no, it is just change, but I didn't want her to think I was above the economic hardship of everyone else, so I tried to pick a quarter up just to prove to myself that I am not above anyone.
That squabbly little round coin refused to tip into my hand. I looked like an idiot trying to grab a quarter that someone had glued to the floor. I was literally squatting on the floor trying to pick up a quarter I could care less about just to appease some stranger!
What is wrong with this picture?
Every time I try to make myself seem like a better person by being guilted into an action I am not comfortable with, I end up looking like an idiot. So what, if I don't care about my change? Someone else can use it and I see it as charity. How much nicer do I need to be?
Next time, I am sticking to my instinct to leave anything under a dollar on the floor.
I stood up in disgust, thinking I shouldn't have gone for the coin, for any reason or anyone. If she was so concerned, why didn't she help me pick the change up? Maybe she just likes making a Blonde look down on her luck, to make her feel better about herself, which is funny, because that is what I tried to do, by picking up the darn coin in the first place!
I looked back at the woman and just said, "If I need a quarter that bad, I will stop getting my nails done." I paid for my vits and left.
Afterward, I shook off the incident by going to a local boutique and bought a dress a size too small and a price tag too big to justify a half a yard of paper thin cotton fabric, but I fell in love with it and that made it seem worthy of its price. It is a hot little dress with a lace up front. I tried to fix the laces but my nails wouldn't let me loosen the knot.
I thought karma is kicking me because I was arrogant about my loose change but then I remembered, I can't tie my shoes, put on my bracelets, or button my bra strap in back because of my fake tips.
Its not karma, its just the stupidity I have to go through for being enslaved to my looks.
Thank God!!
Blondes don't stoop for money!!
long hair
bronzer
make up
shaving
waxing
butt tightening exercises
pedicures
manicures
Blondes go through a lot to look good for our self and male attention. We could care less of what other women think of us. After all, this isn't a competition. Its just about being a Blonde.
I know there will always be someone prettier, thinner, hotter, and younger than me.
The most I can do is be happy about myself, and what makes me happy, is feeling good about my looks.
In my quest for superficial satisfaction I have been sporting fake french tips for a while and enjoy them. I do have trouble with a few things because of them but they aren't life threatening unless I need to call 911 in a hurry, which is near impossible, considering my nails get in the way of punching the telephone keys.
Other than dialing and texting, I never viewed my nails as a problem, until today. Today, I went to the store for some vitamins and when I went to pay for them, some coins dropped from my wallet. The woman behind me, who looked like she was using every ounce of her last dollar to buy groceries for the week said, "You dropped your change, aren't you gonna get it?"
My normal reply is no, it is just change, but I didn't want her to think I was above the economic hardship of everyone else, so I tried to pick a quarter up just to prove to myself that I am not above anyone.
That squabbly little round coin refused to tip into my hand. I looked like an idiot trying to grab a quarter that someone had glued to the floor. I was literally squatting on the floor trying to pick up a quarter I could care less about just to appease some stranger!
What is wrong with this picture?
Every time I try to make myself seem like a better person by being guilted into an action I am not comfortable with, I end up looking like an idiot. So what, if I don't care about my change? Someone else can use it and I see it as charity. How much nicer do I need to be?
Next time, I am sticking to my instinct to leave anything under a dollar on the floor.
I stood up in disgust, thinking I shouldn't have gone for the coin, for any reason or anyone. If she was so concerned, why didn't she help me pick the change up? Maybe she just likes making a Blonde look down on her luck, to make her feel better about herself, which is funny, because that is what I tried to do, by picking up the darn coin in the first place!
I looked back at the woman and just said, "If I need a quarter that bad, I will stop getting my nails done." I paid for my vits and left.
Afterward, I shook off the incident by going to a local boutique and bought a dress a size too small and a price tag too big to justify a half a yard of paper thin cotton fabric, but I fell in love with it and that made it seem worthy of its price. It is a hot little dress with a lace up front. I tried to fix the laces but my nails wouldn't let me loosen the knot.
I thought karma is kicking me because I was arrogant about my loose change but then I remembered, I can't tie my shoes, put on my bracelets, or button my bra strap in back because of my fake tips.
Its not karma, its just the stupidity I have to go through for being enslaved to my looks.
Thank God!!
Blondes don't stoop for money!!
Detoxing at The V Spa
I have been going a little harder, on weekends, than I should and it is time to check out of the scene for a bit, or at least this week before the weekend starts again.
I am hiding low and working on staying in shape. I don't like to exercise too much, I am afraid my body might get used to it and demand a daily regimen, and if I fail it will turn against me and become my enemy in the war to stay thin and young.
I have noticed people who take their sports to extremes tend to look older and unnatural, especially women; their cut muscles and over tanned skin look unappealing to me in the sense that I do not wish to mimic them. I do, however, like to stay healthy and unfortunately sex isn't included in the physical sport arena.
I prefer living in moderation with everything. When I feel my life is unbalanced in one direction, like going out too much or writing too much, I recorrect it and work on a part of my life that has been neglected and for now that is my physical well being.
We all need to reassess our situation as often we can. We need to know and understand when our world needs more time for work, more time for play, more time for relationships, or more time to goof off and be as decadent as Bacchus...or less of it!
The Blonde is busy being a moderate!!!
I am hiding low and working on staying in shape. I don't like to exercise too much, I am afraid my body might get used to it and demand a daily regimen, and if I fail it will turn against me and become my enemy in the war to stay thin and young.
I have noticed people who take their sports to extremes tend to look older and unnatural, especially women; their cut muscles and over tanned skin look unappealing to me in the sense that I do not wish to mimic them. I do, however, like to stay healthy and unfortunately sex isn't included in the physical sport arena.
I prefer living in moderation with everything. When I feel my life is unbalanced in one direction, like going out too much or writing too much, I recorrect it and work on a part of my life that has been neglected and for now that is my physical well being.
We all need to reassess our situation as often we can. We need to know and understand when our world needs more time for work, more time for play, more time for relationships, or more time to goof off and be as decadent as Bacchus...or less of it!
The Blonde is busy being a moderate!!!
2.02.2009
The Promise Land
How many promises have been broken over the years?
We all have made them, we all have broken them.
Promises made in front of an alter, in front of God and family, only to say...Oops..I really just meant the better part; I was crossing my fingers when I said I would stick around for the worst.
I guess I am a bit cynical about marriage because I have been single for so long. I hear too many stories of bad break ups and divorces. It scares me to think I will end up being someones mistake, only to become their entertaining fodder of evil relationships to a future date.
I have to consider the fact that I have a few gents out there that carry on about me in a negative light; but I am fairly certain it was not because I was really a bad seed but more a sour apple that didn't fit their tastes.
I have a few antidotes of my own that I share with new dates but it is more along the lines of why we didn't fit, as opposed to trashing someone to make me look like an angel.
I have no idea why I haven't traveled down the long isle that turns down the marriage road. I guess, I have never found the one that I think I can spend my life with. If I ever marry, I would like to think it will be the promise I never break. But the more I hear about marriage from the unhappy sector, and the more I read about Internet sites that placate to adultery, like its the new therapy for dysfunctional marriages, I have to wonder?
Is the gesture of a wedding just a symbolic joke?
Do people marry for love anymore?
Or do they marry to keep up appearances and hold onto the old myth of the American dream?
I saw "Revolutionary Road" and while it swung more to the dramatic sense of a dismal life for those who want more than what society dictates, there were some very valid points to be made to those that fall prey to the antiquated version of a family.
Too often, rules of the social norm get twisted into a deformed sense of reality. And from this twisted thought of reality, comes the very real and ugly end to many of the futile relationships it spawned.
Too many children's lives are disrupted by the anger of divorce, and by parents, that are so selfish in their desire to hurt one another, because they refuse to take responsibility for their half of a failed marriage; and too many children are put through endless battles they must witness before dinner time, because Mummy and Daddy are staying together, no matter how much they dislike each other, for the sake of them.
This is the 21st century and children of single parent households can be just as well adjusted, if not more, than children in a two parent household and probably more adjusted than their peers in a divorced household. And just to set the record straight, if you are a divorced parent and share custody, you are not a single parent.
Modern day relationships have no ability to handle a life long commitment. The "Save Marriage Act" is a joke. Why is our democracy involving themselves in a dispute of what a marriage is based on a religious definition? What ever happened to the separation of church and state?
Didn't we flee Britain because the church had too much say in our lives?
Marriages are failing all around us, not because of the sexual orientation of partners, but because sexual desires aren't being met in the bedroom.
Grow Up America...because the world is growing around you and the vintage version of life taught in the 5 minute sermon between the musical entertainment at your Mega Church is promising a dead end.
Blondes are taking a higher road of education!!
We all have made them, we all have broken them.
Promises made in front of an alter, in front of God and family, only to say...Oops..I really just meant the better part; I was crossing my fingers when I said I would stick around for the worst.
I guess I am a bit cynical about marriage because I have been single for so long. I hear too many stories of bad break ups and divorces. It scares me to think I will end up being someones mistake, only to become their entertaining fodder of evil relationships to a future date.
I have to consider the fact that I have a few gents out there that carry on about me in a negative light; but I am fairly certain it was not because I was really a bad seed but more a sour apple that didn't fit their tastes.
I have a few antidotes of my own that I share with new dates but it is more along the lines of why we didn't fit, as opposed to trashing someone to make me look like an angel.
I have no idea why I haven't traveled down the long isle that turns down the marriage road. I guess, I have never found the one that I think I can spend my life with. If I ever marry, I would like to think it will be the promise I never break. But the more I hear about marriage from the unhappy sector, and the more I read about Internet sites that placate to adultery, like its the new therapy for dysfunctional marriages, I have to wonder?
Is the gesture of a wedding just a symbolic joke?
Do people marry for love anymore?
Or do they marry to keep up appearances and hold onto the old myth of the American dream?
I saw "Revolutionary Road" and while it swung more to the dramatic sense of a dismal life for those who want more than what society dictates, there were some very valid points to be made to those that fall prey to the antiquated version of a family.
Too often, rules of the social norm get twisted into a deformed sense of reality. And from this twisted thought of reality, comes the very real and ugly end to many of the futile relationships it spawned.
Too many children's lives are disrupted by the anger of divorce, and by parents, that are so selfish in their desire to hurt one another, because they refuse to take responsibility for their half of a failed marriage; and too many children are put through endless battles they must witness before dinner time, because Mummy and Daddy are staying together, no matter how much they dislike each other, for the sake of them.
This is the 21st century and children of single parent households can be just as well adjusted, if not more, than children in a two parent household and probably more adjusted than their peers in a divorced household. And just to set the record straight, if you are a divorced parent and share custody, you are not a single parent.
Modern day relationships have no ability to handle a life long commitment. The "Save Marriage Act" is a joke. Why is our democracy involving themselves in a dispute of what a marriage is based on a religious definition? What ever happened to the separation of church and state?
Didn't we flee Britain because the church had too much say in our lives?
Marriages are failing all around us, not because of the sexual orientation of partners, but because sexual desires aren't being met in the bedroom.
Grow Up America...because the world is growing around you and the vintage version of life taught in the 5 minute sermon between the musical entertainment at your Mega Church is promising a dead end.
Blondes are taking a higher road of education!!
1.30.2009
Its Not Time to Be Qiuet
It is not the time to be congenial or charming. It is time for the Blonde to stand up and speak!!
Did Martin Luther King stop his speeches because of threats?
Did Bobby Kennedy give in to fear?
Did anyone worthy of a voice of peace and hope and truth cave into malicious attacks on their person?
No!!
And neither will I.
I have been guilty of pandering to those around me to speak a softer mind, to be funnier, to be more congeal in my attacks on society and personal encounters; but no more!!
I have had enough of the passive aggressive society I live in and I am going to turn this world upside down and find the good in all of you, with the tough love you need!!
I am sick of placating to a world that won't take responsibility!
Learn to play chess!
Learn Newton's law of physics!!
Learn science!
Learn all religions!
Learn other culture!
Learn, learn, learn!!
Blondes can't teach a stupid crowd!
Did Martin Luther King stop his speeches because of threats?
Did Bobby Kennedy give in to fear?
Did anyone worthy of a voice of peace and hope and truth cave into malicious attacks on their person?
No!!
And neither will I.
I have been guilty of pandering to those around me to speak a softer mind, to be funnier, to be more congeal in my attacks on society and personal encounters; but no more!!
I have had enough of the passive aggressive society I live in and I am going to turn this world upside down and find the good in all of you, with the tough love you need!!
I am sick of placating to a world that won't take responsibility!
Learn to play chess!
Learn Newton's law of physics!!
Learn science!
Learn all religions!
Learn other culture!
Learn, learn, learn!!
Blondes can't teach a stupid crowd!
Love in the Time of.....
everything.
It is the time now, and then, and forever beyond. It has no limits and I fear my only curse on this earth is that I let myself love all of earth's creatures; including man.
And man is the saddest let down of all!!
I love animals so much that I worry every time it freezes, because I know there are people that chain their pets to a fence or won't let them in the house when its cold because they are allergic to them. I wonder why they have to hurt them? Why must they own an animal that they call a family pet but treat it like a rodent.
Please don't teach an animal to be sufficient on your love, when you have no love to give them!!
I hate zoo's because I see wild animals that committed no crime being locked up and fenced in an environment that makes them a novelty to human society. I thought we have out grown the age of the elephant man, but we haven't grown at all.
Evolution should be that which evolves us to a better understanding of all creatures, but we can only see ourselves; our selfish selves!!
We don't care how the cow is killed, only how the steak tastes.
We don't care how the homeless survive, just as long as they don't live near us.
We don't care to change the world, we care only that our children cash in on our new found dough and we teach them that they are above others who don't have as much.
I really think parents are missing the point of Darwin's theory. The jock without a brain dating the pretty girl with a Prada bag equals another idiot born into society.
Footballs and handbags only go so far!!
What a shame that you think your kid is here to right some wrong that you suffered as a child.
Our children live off of our insecurity and continue the sad notion of some antiquated thought on God. We are stuck in believing in a bible that was only written to secure the power of a church and its belief of chastising those that don't fit the norm.
The rapture, if it comes, is not to cleanse the unrighteous, but to cleanse the righteous from this earth, so the humble and beautiful within, can find security in a place without judgment and live an equal existence to everything in nature as it should be.
The bible is a blasphemy to God and all his creatures.
You know what bothers me the most about loving this world? It is the fact that every living creature other than man has found their Utopia on this earth. Every creature, other than man, only takes what they need to survive and live happy.
They do not invade.
They do not steal
They do not rape
They do not murder
They do not torture
They do not enslave
They do not have anger
They do not have revenge
They do not have a bible
We as humans should hope for our distinction for the survival of species that has and always will be superior to us!!
The bible was not written by God but by man that wants control!!
Heaven is for those who know, their life is equal to all the species God gave life to!!!
The Blonde does not believe in man's religion and wonders why humans can not evolve past a piece of fiction!!
It is the time now, and then, and forever beyond. It has no limits and I fear my only curse on this earth is that I let myself love all of earth's creatures; including man.
And man is the saddest let down of all!!
I love animals so much that I worry every time it freezes, because I know there are people that chain their pets to a fence or won't let them in the house when its cold because they are allergic to them. I wonder why they have to hurt them? Why must they own an animal that they call a family pet but treat it like a rodent.
Please don't teach an animal to be sufficient on your love, when you have no love to give them!!
I hate zoo's because I see wild animals that committed no crime being locked up and fenced in an environment that makes them a novelty to human society. I thought we have out grown the age of the elephant man, but we haven't grown at all.
Evolution should be that which evolves us to a better understanding of all creatures, but we can only see ourselves; our selfish selves!!
We don't care how the cow is killed, only how the steak tastes.
We don't care how the homeless survive, just as long as they don't live near us.
We don't care to change the world, we care only that our children cash in on our new found dough and we teach them that they are above others who don't have as much.
I really think parents are missing the point of Darwin's theory. The jock without a brain dating the pretty girl with a Prada bag equals another idiot born into society.
Footballs and handbags only go so far!!
What a shame that you think your kid is here to right some wrong that you suffered as a child.
Our children live off of our insecurity and continue the sad notion of some antiquated thought on God. We are stuck in believing in a bible that was only written to secure the power of a church and its belief of chastising those that don't fit the norm.
The rapture, if it comes, is not to cleanse the unrighteous, but to cleanse the righteous from this earth, so the humble and beautiful within, can find security in a place without judgment and live an equal existence to everything in nature as it should be.
The bible is a blasphemy to God and all his creatures.
You know what bothers me the most about loving this world? It is the fact that every living creature other than man has found their Utopia on this earth. Every creature, other than man, only takes what they need to survive and live happy.
They do not invade.
They do not steal
They do not rape
They do not murder
They do not torture
They do not enslave
They do not have anger
They do not have revenge
They do not have a bible
We as humans should hope for our distinction for the survival of species that has and always will be superior to us!!
The bible was not written by God but by man that wants control!!
Heaven is for those who know, their life is equal to all the species God gave life to!!!
The Blonde does not believe in man's religion and wonders why humans can not evolve past a piece of fiction!!
1.29.2009
If You Don't Have Anything Nice To Say
you shouldn't say anything at all.
I think I am going to take that advice and chill on the blog until I can find my funny again.
Lately I have been suffering allergies and working double time in the blogosphere and it is beginning to make me a little cranky, as evident by my recent posts.
I am going to settle in new lanscape this weekend and take a rest.
The Blonde's mouth is on holiday!!
I think I am going to take that advice and chill on the blog until I can find my funny again.
Lately I have been suffering allergies and working double time in the blogosphere and it is beginning to make me a little cranky, as evident by my recent posts.
I am going to settle in new lanscape this weekend and take a rest.
The Blonde's mouth is on holiday!!
Cut the Thread
How the heck do I stop a thread? I made the mistake of commenting on one little thing about children and parents and now I have to suffer the consequences of the idiotic responses emailed to me.
My comment was made in reference to a Mother that chastised little girls for wearing t-shirts that say "Girls rule, Boys drool". Personally I find that cute and funny but I am not a menopausal woman with a four year old.
As far as my opinion meter getting the best of me...I would have to say it was the use of the words hussy and street walker to describe the latest tween fashion.
Are you sure your not the Grandma?
In response to thongs being sold at the GAP for kids, I can agree. But only because I think thongs are stupid in general. Thongs are a gold mine to retail. You make something that costs less than 10 cents and sell it for $20, promote it as the newest and greatest thing and women will grab hold of it.
I wish I thought of a way to sell lace scraps as underwear and make a fortune!!
The beginning of the blog actually started because the meno Mom and her husband couldn't get over the fact tweens were texting through dinner at the table adjacent to them. My question was; if your such a great family unit, why do you need to occupy dinner conversation judging other people?
Whenever my sisters and I had a complaint about someone's behavior at the dinner table my Mother would say, "Look at your own plate."
Brilliant advice Mum!!!
Sometimes I want to scream at the stupidity of people and ask that they not breed until they pass a parent aptitude test. Unfortunately, they don't have one.
Ooh
Ooh
Can I make the test?!!
Please?
Pretty please with dumb parents on top?!!
I went nuts when a thread of a 'tech savvy Mom' suggesting they text along with their kid as a way of keeping it real.
Seriously?!
Have parents gone AWALL?
Stop having kids in between your hot flashes.
I swear to Gah there is such a thing as too old...Larry King!!
If a parent thinks they are in tune with their tween because they are savvy enough to master a download that will program their iphone to send them a text, reminding them to smile at their kid every four hours...I can understand why the Mayans stopped the clock at 2012.
Blondes hope the rapture unravels the fabric!!
My comment was made in reference to a Mother that chastised little girls for wearing t-shirts that say "Girls rule, Boys drool". Personally I find that cute and funny but I am not a menopausal woman with a four year old.
As far as my opinion meter getting the best of me...I would have to say it was the use of the words hussy and street walker to describe the latest tween fashion.
Are you sure your not the Grandma?
In response to thongs being sold at the GAP for kids, I can agree. But only because I think thongs are stupid in general. Thongs are a gold mine to retail. You make something that costs less than 10 cents and sell it for $20, promote it as the newest and greatest thing and women will grab hold of it.
I wish I thought of a way to sell lace scraps as underwear and make a fortune!!
The beginning of the blog actually started because the meno Mom and her husband couldn't get over the fact tweens were texting through dinner at the table adjacent to them. My question was; if your such a great family unit, why do you need to occupy dinner conversation judging other people?
Whenever my sisters and I had a complaint about someone's behavior at the dinner table my Mother would say, "Look at your own plate."
Brilliant advice Mum!!!
Sometimes I want to scream at the stupidity of people and ask that they not breed until they pass a parent aptitude test. Unfortunately, they don't have one.
Ooh
Ooh
Can I make the test?!!
Please?
Pretty please with dumb parents on top?!!
I went nuts when a thread of a 'tech savvy Mom' suggesting they text along with their kid as a way of keeping it real.
Seriously?!
Have parents gone AWALL?
Stop having kids in between your hot flashes.
I swear to Gah there is such a thing as too old...Larry King!!
If a parent thinks they are in tune with their tween because they are savvy enough to master a download that will program their iphone to send them a text, reminding them to smile at their kid every four hours...I can understand why the Mayans stopped the clock at 2012.
Blondes hope the rapture unravels the fabric!!
1.28.2009
On Edge
I am in a weird mood tonight, I can not seem to relax and I am on edge. My cat Lela, either feels my angst or she is feeling something in the air as well. Like a cattle hound, she roped all the cats into my bedroom and stood next to a door that was inadvertently unlocked. Now she is checking the inside perimeter of the house.
I have to locate her before she shiats on something.
Blondes usually like being edgy!!!
I have to locate her before she shiats on something.
Blondes usually like being edgy!!!
1.26.2009
The Blonde Feminist
I recently read a post about "What Women Want?", written by a man commenting on the works of a new and upcoming female sexologist. To the journalists credit, he found the study as inconsequential as I did.
I don't even know how you end up with a doctorate in Sexology? I looked on the web and it seems to me you can just claim it without a degree. After all, what university is going to teach sex as a main course, other than the Kinsey Institute and we know what a perv he was!
The article doesn't question what women want-that's just the title- it questions our motivation for sex. In other words, how can the sexologist sell her findings to a pharmaceutical company to enhance female lust.
The sexologist failed to comment whether the women were married, single, young, old, fat, thin, pretty, or ugly. She failed to say her findings were anything but a red line of data on her hard drive after plugging in comment cards from willing participants who watched videos while strapped to a contraption measuring body response.
I must admit, I skimmed most of the dribble, but I read enough to arouse my opinion. You can read it as well:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/
The comments are even more enlightening.
The article suggests women are more emotional in their desire for sex. I certainly know how emotional I feel when I turn on my neck massager.
Using a vaginal plethysmograph to measure blood flow after watching sex of different orientations sends data to a computer which is later interpreted to a graph of bologna. Maybe its not arousal but the sensation of being embarrassed watching gay porn with wires clipped to your tutu. I can't bring myself to watch Brokeback Mountain let alone watch two guys getting it on donkey kong style. Don't get me wrong, I have lots of gay friends but I tell them, just like I tell my hetero friends, "You can't have sex on my coffee table when guests are around."
The whole premise of the study is to discover why women are sexually dysfunctional. We are not dysfunctional just because we can't keep up with the abnormalities of a 24/7 hard on induced by Viagra.
Stop making women feel inadequate with your Kinsey Freak reports. I can tell you as a single woman, I have just as much drive as a man. Now, if I were idiot enough to get married under the femi-natzi 'having it all' guide book, you can bet; dropping down naked in a sexual fantasy for my husband after I worked all day, shuffled the kids to and fro, cooked and cleaned until the Late Show came on..your damn right their would be a dis in my sexual function.
We don't need sexologists telling us we suck because we don't suck enough. We don't need Glaxo to come up with a pill. We don't need to watch baboons getting it on to see if we feel like getting it on. We need a new attitude about ourselves.
You know what Women want?
They want to look in the mirror every day and say, "Damn!! I look good!!"
Which is a pretty hard thing to come by when the media and the online dating sites makes you feel like a worthless old heifer after the age of 28 and wear anything over a size 2.
The Blonde will see you now!!
I don't even know how you end up with a doctorate in Sexology? I looked on the web and it seems to me you can just claim it without a degree. After all, what university is going to teach sex as a main course, other than the Kinsey Institute and we know what a perv he was!
The article doesn't question what women want-that's just the title- it questions our motivation for sex. In other words, how can the sexologist sell her findings to a pharmaceutical company to enhance female lust.
The sexologist failed to comment whether the women were married, single, young, old, fat, thin, pretty, or ugly. She failed to say her findings were anything but a red line of data on her hard drive after plugging in comment cards from willing participants who watched videos while strapped to a contraption measuring body response.
I must admit, I skimmed most of the dribble, but I read enough to arouse my opinion. You can read it as well:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/
The comments are even more enlightening.
The article suggests women are more emotional in their desire for sex. I certainly know how emotional I feel when I turn on my neck massager.
Using a vaginal plethysmograph to measure blood flow after watching sex of different orientations sends data to a computer which is later interpreted to a graph of bologna. Maybe its not arousal but the sensation of being embarrassed watching gay porn with wires clipped to your tutu. I can't bring myself to watch Brokeback Mountain let alone watch two guys getting it on donkey kong style. Don't get me wrong, I have lots of gay friends but I tell them, just like I tell my hetero friends, "You can't have sex on my coffee table when guests are around."
The whole premise of the study is to discover why women are sexually dysfunctional. We are not dysfunctional just because we can't keep up with the abnormalities of a 24/7 hard on induced by Viagra.
Stop making women feel inadequate with your Kinsey Freak reports. I can tell you as a single woman, I have just as much drive as a man. Now, if I were idiot enough to get married under the femi-natzi 'having it all' guide book, you can bet; dropping down naked in a sexual fantasy for my husband after I worked all day, shuffled the kids to and fro, cooked and cleaned until the Late Show came on..your damn right their would be a dis in my sexual function.
We don't need sexologists telling us we suck because we don't suck enough. We don't need Glaxo to come up with a pill. We don't need to watch baboons getting it on to see if we feel like getting it on. We need a new attitude about ourselves.
You know what Women want?
They want to look in the mirror every day and say, "Damn!! I look good!!"
Which is a pretty hard thing to come by when the media and the online dating sites makes you feel like a worthless old heifer after the age of 28 and wear anything over a size 2.
The Blonde will see you now!!
Michelle Obama is not a Fashion Icon
unless you are a fan of frumpy. Not to be a jerk but someone has to poop on the parade, so it will be me.
I do not know how the First Lady will do on a whole but I am hoping for the same feather ruffling as my girl Hillary. And while I am excited about her taking on the task at hand, fashion is not her forte, so let's not give credit, where credit it isn't due. The Huffington Post is way too biased in their selection of feel good commentary on this very subject.
Michelle, while a smart, hip, and go getting woman, is hardly what I would call a fashionista. At the Ball, she was awkward and didn't know how to properly scoop up the back of the dress to dance. The dress seemed a tiresome act of fashion faux pas; a ruffled, worn out sheath that did not fit the style of a post feminist African American woman. I think she was more suited to wear a structured sheath constructed with sass and vibrant colors to match the truth of her allure. She is a strong woman that can not wear feminine lingerie in public. That damn dress should have stayed on the dreary white 90 lbs. mannequin in the window.
I would like to think the dress was a politically smart move chosen on Michelle's part but after researching the designer and his history, I have to say no. Jason Wu was born into a well to do import/export family that afforded him the luxury of studying abroad, by way of Canada in order to study in the U.S., and then landed as an understudy to Narciso Rodriguez before starting his own line with his parent's backing. Certainly not a tale of 'rags to riches' one likes to hear.
I hope this isn't a glimpse into how the roots of a solid begginning can be easily smothered by the corruption of power and money.
As far as the yellow 'Kennedy' copycat number during the parade...I just have to say..not every democrat elect needs to be equated with the Kennedy era. The Clintons didn't have it and the Obamas don't either; but why would they? Neither of them grew up with silver spoons in their mouth like John and Jackie.
I think white mainstream media is so afraid of coming off racist, that they make themselves look like idiots. They pat themselves on the back for comparing the Obama's to the Kennedy's'.Oh Please!!!
To me, you should have compared them to a better family, like the Kings!!
Jackie fixed up the white house and made the pillbox hat a hot ticket. Coretta Scott King was too busy carrying on the message of freedom to care if she made the cover of Vogue. Michelle would be better off studying the styles of women that fit her stature; not that of the fashion militia and mainstream media.
Real women have a style that transcends, why have mainstream dress them like Barbies, when they can dress themselves, so much more eloquently!!
And for the record, Aretha can wear any damn hat she wants!
Cutting Back
Every day I get out of the shower, blow dry my hair and take scissors to my bangs. If I keep it up, I am going to have that caterpillar look I had in 5th grade.
I can't get the few hundred hairs, lying in the middle of my forehead, to conform to what I want. I don't know why hair needs to have a life of its own, afterall, they are dead cells. Its an oxymoron for my hair to act this way.
Its even more moronic that I can't leave the hairs alone. Why do I think I can threaten their existence with a scissor when they are already dead. What do they care if they are on my head or flushed away in the toilet to swim the great ocean?
I have to hide my scissors.
You think it would be hard to hide something from yourself, but my Mother does it all the time with a near perfect track record. It is one of the many super powers of a Blonde.
Blondes need to let things grow!!
I can't get the few hundred hairs, lying in the middle of my forehead, to conform to what I want. I don't know why hair needs to have a life of its own, afterall, they are dead cells. Its an oxymoron for my hair to act this way.
Its even more moronic that I can't leave the hairs alone. Why do I think I can threaten their existence with a scissor when they are already dead. What do they care if they are on my head or flushed away in the toilet to swim the great ocean?
I have to hide my scissors.
You think it would be hard to hide something from yourself, but my Mother does it all the time with a near perfect track record. It is one of the many super powers of a Blonde.
Blondes need to let things grow!!
1.22.2009
Netflix
After more than enough entertaining the past week, I am happily tucked into my closet sized hacienda with a new batch of chick flicks to occupy my time. I will probably stay up until the wee hour of the morn with a big box of tissue and a bottle of vino, watching love unfold, like only Hollywood can deliver.
Blondes like a good love story!!
Blondes like a good love story!!
1.21.2009
An Inaugural Hickie
I spent the inauguration with my New York guy. For the rest of my life, I will equate the inauguration of our first caucasion-less president, as the day I found my neck bruised from a kiss by NY G.
I do not know where we will end up. We may have very well seen the last of each other; I do not know, but it is exciting, just to wonder at the possibility.
Beginnings are always a fabulous enigma, because we hold open the door to everything that is good. We, as humans, think that every new opportunity offers the very key to our happiness. We never enter into the 'new' without the hope of a great outcome, except when we grow older and understandably hold history under our wing; carrying it as a weight that reminds us we can no longer fly with the reckless abandonment of youth and innocence. At the later stages of our perception, we find life too cruel a world, filled with empty promises, that are eager to burn us. But, as evident in our elections; as hardened as we may seem, we always hold out the feather's chance to be reborn from the ashes and rise like a gryphon, anxious to fly again.
In retrospect, Barack doesn't have many more challenges to face than I do. He is coming in as the new girlfriend on the back heels of a self serving, profiteering, gold digging and destructive biatch (current admin), that would make Kevin Federline look like Mother Teresa. Barack will have to prove himself--enduring all the scrutiny and skepticism of a new suitor going after someone who has pulled out of one too many bad engagements.
My taste for successful and slightly older gents leaves me open to the same obstacles to climb. I am already scuffing the tops of my pointed toe, designer pumps, on the recounts of EXs gone bad, way before the main course hits our table. For me, the limitations of the relationship with these gents are not lines drawn in the sand...
OH, NO!!!
They are lines drawn on my napkin with a medium point Sharpie!!
But, I will overcome!!
If the American Peeps can overcome, so can I!!
And you know why?!
Because, as hardened and disillusioned as the last administration made the citizens of this great nation feel; it only took one great first date (campaign) with a charismatic lawyer to make the status quo discover they were in love with their country again. And I may fall short of being a love interest for any of the men I am currently seeing, but just knowing they invested enough time and effort to pursue a first date with me, leaves me with the great satisfaction of knowing they are open to the 'NEW', and the greatness of being with a Blonde.
I may not be the answer to living happily ever after but I am definitely the cliff notes on how it should be.
The Blonde hopes everyone will overcome!!!
I do not know where we will end up. We may have very well seen the last of each other; I do not know, but it is exciting, just to wonder at the possibility.
Beginnings are always a fabulous enigma, because we hold open the door to everything that is good. We, as humans, think that every new opportunity offers the very key to our happiness. We never enter into the 'new' without the hope of a great outcome, except when we grow older and understandably hold history under our wing; carrying it as a weight that reminds us we can no longer fly with the reckless abandonment of youth and innocence. At the later stages of our perception, we find life too cruel a world, filled with empty promises, that are eager to burn us. But, as evident in our elections; as hardened as we may seem, we always hold out the feather's chance to be reborn from the ashes and rise like a gryphon, anxious to fly again.
In retrospect, Barack doesn't have many more challenges to face than I do. He is coming in as the new girlfriend on the back heels of a self serving, profiteering, gold digging and destructive biatch (current admin), that would make Kevin Federline look like Mother Teresa. Barack will have to prove himself--enduring all the scrutiny and skepticism of a new suitor going after someone who has pulled out of one too many bad engagements.
My taste for successful and slightly older gents leaves me open to the same obstacles to climb. I am already scuffing the tops of my pointed toe, designer pumps, on the recounts of EXs gone bad, way before the main course hits our table. For me, the limitations of the relationship with these gents are not lines drawn in the sand...
OH, NO!!!
They are lines drawn on my napkin with a medium point Sharpie!!
But, I will overcome!!
If the American Peeps can overcome, so can I!!
And you know why?!
Because, as hardened and disillusioned as the last administration made the citizens of this great nation feel; it only took one great first date (campaign) with a charismatic lawyer to make the status quo discover they were in love with their country again. And I may fall short of being a love interest for any of the men I am currently seeing, but just knowing they invested enough time and effort to pursue a first date with me, leaves me with the great satisfaction of knowing they are open to the 'NEW', and the greatness of being with a Blonde.
I may not be the answer to living happily ever after but I am definitely the cliff notes on how it should be.
The Blonde hopes everyone will overcome!!!
Omni Hotel, Downtown Austin
I have been spending my weekends in downtown Austin hotels while hosting some out of town guests to spare a DWI. I have to say while I find most of the rooms similar, I have to give kudos to the Omni for tucking a magic wand in the room, behind the bed.
I am fairly certain it was left by a very liberal and over zealous couple, but still I must give the kudos to the Omni and its cleaning crew for the good sense to leave it behind for the discovery to be made by a Blonde who blogs. I made careful effort to sanitized the wand before the photo op was made and for general curiosity. Of course I turned it on; all I can say is it is way too powerful a tool to be using it on any sensitive part of the female anatomy.
After testing my new treasure, I feel certain warning label should be affixed to it, such as:
Sexual use of this toy may hinder the effects of any future love endeavors with a human sexual organ.
This toy has the power of humming a twat clear off in less than 10 seconds.
Intimate knowledge of this wand will make anything that does not vibrate, virtually obsolete.
Wetting of this toy may cause electrical shock!!
Blondes will never use power tools, again!!
1.16.2009
Essential Oils
Oh yes!!
Rub it on!
Rub it in
Yes
Yes, Yes, Yes!!!!
Oh that feels good!!!!!
More!!
Oh, ohhhhh....
I have been rubbing essential oils on me to keep the allergies away and surprisingly enough, they really work.
Peppermint oil rubbed on my neck keeps headaches away.
Chamomile oil rubbed all over my body helps sensitive skin.
Lavender on a cotton puff, gently rubbed on my eyelids stops the itching.
Now all I need is a beach, a man, and a mai tai!!!
Of course, with all this yummy flavored oil on my skin, I could be stuffed, skewered and twisted on a pit and made into a tasty treat to be served up at a private luau for the right guy with the right bungalow!!
Blondes are really slick!!
Rub it on!
Rub it in
Yes
Yes, Yes, Yes!!!!
Oh that feels good!!!!!
More!!
Oh, ohhhhh....
I have been rubbing essential oils on me to keep the allergies away and surprisingly enough, they really work.
Peppermint oil rubbed on my neck keeps headaches away.
Chamomile oil rubbed all over my body helps sensitive skin.
Lavender on a cotton puff, gently rubbed on my eyelids stops the itching.
Now all I need is a beach, a man, and a mai tai!!!
Of course, with all this yummy flavored oil on my skin, I could be stuffed, skewered and twisted on a pit and made into a tasty treat to be served up at a private luau for the right guy with the right bungalow!!
Blondes are really slick!!
1.15.2009
Slick Willies
Last night I had a date with Bird. I call him Bird because his hair is really fine and sticks out like down on a baby duck. It is really cute the way he tries to pat it down.
Anyhoo,
Bird took me to a pool hall.
Yes, a pool hall!
Surprisingly, it was a lot of fun. I felt like I had played this kind of game before.
Hhmmmm....
How to play pool:
Have a few drinks
bend over
spread your legs
poke your rear up
hold the stick
smoothly stroke the stick
smack the ball
balls go in and out of the hole
do this several times until your tired
then have one more drink
talk for a bit
and then go home.
Blondes like playing with men!!
Anyhoo,
Bird took me to a pool hall.
Yes, a pool hall!
Surprisingly, it was a lot of fun. I felt like I had played this kind of game before.
Hhmmmm....
How to play pool:
Have a few drinks
bend over
spread your legs
poke your rear up
hold the stick
smoothly stroke the stick
smack the ball
balls go in and out of the hole
do this several times until your tired
then have one more drink
talk for a bit
and then go home.
Blondes like playing with men!!
1.13.2009
Private Matters
I know I write about many of my dating escapades and for some gentlemen that might be a worrisome proposition, but they need not be so concerned. I offer the moratorium contract to el finito bonds. I have no intention of burning bridges and racking up a super sized tab of bad karma.
No one wants to be splattered on someone's diaretic (diary-therapy) blog and there are always two truths to the stories and the reality in between. I hate girls that rant about bad relationships, as if they had no participation in the matter. Doesn't it get a bit old to play the helpless victim routine. If someone treats you like a dish rag and are able to identify the situation well enough to write in explicit detail about it, than aren't you a total tool yourself for staying at the table washing up the slop you so clearly can see?!!
I wait at least 3 months before writing about past affairs out of respect for the relationship and to give me time to dissect my part in the plot. No matter how awry it went...in the beginning it was good and whomever I was with will be a faded but never too distant memory and I would like to think it wasn't all a hideous waste of time. I am certainly not going to trash anyone who was there for me. I will tell it like I see it but names, dates, and location are hidden well beneath the radar. I write the lesson in the story not the fault or blame.
Some affairs I never write about. After all, my Mother reads my blog. I can't have her thinking I am not the total lady, that she raised me to be, at all times!
Hi Mom...just kidding...you know I am innocent!!
And the rest of you are reading...
this way...
Keep reading...
Now that were past the relationship disclaimer side of things, lets get into the nitty gritty of what is not covered under the bylaws of the blog:
Dates that fail to deliver their goods as pictured in the catalog!! Don't send a photo representing 20 years your junior or 20 lbs your lighter self and show up looking like Uncle Fester or Bob Barker. The light bulb will go off, and the price isn't right!!
Everything else is fair game!!!
Blondes are explicit!!
No one wants to be splattered on someone's diaretic (diary-therapy) blog and there are always two truths to the stories and the reality in between. I hate girls that rant about bad relationships, as if they had no participation in the matter. Doesn't it get a bit old to play the helpless victim routine. If someone treats you like a dish rag and are able to identify the situation well enough to write in explicit detail about it, than aren't you a total tool yourself for staying at the table washing up the slop you so clearly can see?!!
I wait at least 3 months before writing about past affairs out of respect for the relationship and to give me time to dissect my part in the plot. No matter how awry it went...in the beginning it was good and whomever I was with will be a faded but never too distant memory and I would like to think it wasn't all a hideous waste of time. I am certainly not going to trash anyone who was there for me. I will tell it like I see it but names, dates, and location are hidden well beneath the radar. I write the lesson in the story not the fault or blame.
Some affairs I never write about. After all, my Mother reads my blog. I can't have her thinking I am not the total lady, that she raised me to be, at all times!
Hi Mom...just kidding...you know I am innocent!!
And the rest of you are reading...
this way...
Keep reading...
Now that were past the relationship disclaimer side of things, lets get into the nitty gritty of what is not covered under the bylaws of the blog:
Dates that fail to deliver their goods as pictured in the catalog!! Don't send a photo representing 20 years your junior or 20 lbs your lighter self and show up looking like Uncle Fester or Bob Barker. The light bulb will go off, and the price isn't right!!
Everything else is fair game!!!
Blondes are explicit!!
1.12.2009
The Sweet and Sour of Arm Candy
Would you think it’s a special relationship if the guy said he would dump you if he ever had to beg for a blowjob? I am sure a man would find it special to get an 'on demand' oral, but to a Blonde, this kind of statement sums up the character of the man I was seeing and just how special he thought I was.
Arm Candy is expendable!!
He has told me numerous times to look internally at the fault of our break up and I have come to the conclusion that we were equally to blame for this train wreck. He asked me to move in so quickly that we really never had the time to get to know each other. I found myself in a stranger's house trying to make the best of it. I wrote most of the time, sipping a bottle of wine throughout the day and finding I really had no connection to this guy I just moved in with.
He spent the day downstairs working, napping off his zanax, and asking for command oral performances, whenever I walked in the room.
Arm Candy has no other purpose!!
I was playing a blind man’s sport to catch what mood he might be in anytime during the day and I felt as if I had to walk on eggshells throughout the whole affair. Anytime we had a conversation, he would inevitably misinterpret things I would say, so I became frustrated and I just ended up letting him believe it was all my error just to save the peace.
Arm Candy should not have original thoughts!!
He sent me home from a holiday just because I had the audacity to joke around that I was bored and lonely having to tour the town alone while he napped.
Arm Candy does not have the right to complain!!
He was a very serious man with little humor in him and my free spirited and flaky mouth seemed to irritate him. He had little tolerance for my personality or anything beyond my being pretty.
Arm candy should just sit and look sweet.
I learned a very valuable lesson the hard way. You cannot rush into a relationship and expect an easy transition into a long term commitment without having a full understanding of each other to be able to create a harmonious communion.
I also learned that being Arm Candy is hard to swallow!!
The Blonde will find the yin to her yang eventually!!
1.09.2009
Shooting Blanks
By the forces of nature and Mother Nature herself, my creative energy has been zapped. I have stared blankly at this page for more than a hour trying to come up with something witty or profound to say.
I have so much on my mind that I can't think.
There just went another 10 minutes of staring at the blank page.
and another...
and another....
The Blonde needs to unload soon!!
I have so much on my mind that I can't think.
There just went another 10 minutes of staring at the blank page.
and another...
and another....
The Blonde needs to unload soon!!
1.08.2009
Bouncing Back
I finally got up, double dose my Claritin, turned off the tube, plugged in my tune box for some swing jazz to get the blood pumping through my pathetic self and headed straight to the ladies maintenance shed for a beauty tune up.
And then I called on a date for tonight.
I refuse to deal with allergies anymore. Griping about it won't make them go away, however,
going on a date with someone who can fly me to any destination that doesn't have cedar trees will.
Finding a solution to a problem is far more productive than complaining about it. I know everyone needs a little grief time, but after awhile you have to say enough is enough, get up and fix it whether it be allergies, work, relationships, or the electronic can opener that always squirts the tuna juice everywhere when you try to unhook the can.
Blondes jump at the chance to travel!!
And then I called on a date for tonight.
I refuse to deal with allergies anymore. Griping about it won't make them go away, however,
going on a date with someone who can fly me to any destination that doesn't have cedar trees will.
Finding a solution to a problem is far more productive than complaining about it. I know everyone needs a little grief time, but after awhile you have to say enough is enough, get up and fix it whether it be allergies, work, relationships, or the electronic can opener that always squirts the tuna juice everywhere when you try to unhook the can.
Blondes jump at the chance to travel!!
Sick Thoughts
I have been trying desperately to float my mind out of the pool of phlegm its been drowning in for the last week.
My vocal chords are resonating the sounds of Elmer Fudd's voice.
I only have use of one nostril at a time.
My body is so loaded with sinus and allergy meds that I am drying out to a prunish existence.
I have been too foggy to write, to transfer money, to pay bills, and attend to my social life which is teetering on the borderline of extinction.
I would write more but unfortunately this is all I have to give today.
The Blonde is not feeling well!!
My vocal chords are resonating the sounds of Elmer Fudd's voice.
I only have use of one nostril at a time.
My body is so loaded with sinus and allergy meds that I am drying out to a prunish existence.
I have been too foggy to write, to transfer money, to pay bills, and attend to my social life which is teetering on the borderline of extinction.
I would write more but unfortunately this is all I have to give today.
The Blonde is not feeling well!!
1.06.2009
Twinkle, Twinkle
little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky!
Little girls in ponytails,
dreaming of fairy tales,
and happily ever after endings.
The pigtails are long gone but not the dreams of being someone's Princess. Women have grown up on the fantasy of Prince Charming and the obstacles we must face in order to have him.
Cinderella had to get to a ball,
Sleeping Beauty had to learn to spin yarn,
and Snow White needed to tan her fair skin.
and then Prince Charming would come and rescue them and they would live happily ever after.
Right?
Wrong!!
Like the Lost gospel of Judas, Disney hid the truth of the real fairy tales under reels and reels of the modified versions, their cover up was only recently discovered, exposing the truth behind the torrid world of fairy tales.
The Lost Ending ( edited for quick copy; original to be out in hardback):
Cinderella learned about Snow, Snow learned about Sleeping, and Sleeping learned about Cinderella. They all got together and over a bottle or two of wine they discussed their revenge. For the Prince would be tricked into drinking a potion that would turn him into a toad. Unfortunately, do to their slight inebriation and miscalculations of some of the ingredients, the Prince was turned into a talking frog.
Alas, the Prince, still armed with his voice, charmed his way into a kiss from an unsuspecting young lady and soon was back to his old ways of philandering across fairy tales.
The truth behind the tale is always entertaining but even far more enlightening.
Blondes reach for the stars!!
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky!
Little girls in ponytails,
dreaming of fairy tales,
and happily ever after endings.
The pigtails are long gone but not the dreams of being someone's Princess. Women have grown up on the fantasy of Prince Charming and the obstacles we must face in order to have him.
Cinderella had to get to a ball,
Sleeping Beauty had to learn to spin yarn,
and Snow White needed to tan her fair skin.
and then Prince Charming would come and rescue them and they would live happily ever after.
Right?
Wrong!!
Like the Lost gospel of Judas, Disney hid the truth of the real fairy tales under reels and reels of the modified versions, their cover up was only recently discovered, exposing the truth behind the torrid world of fairy tales.
The Lost Ending ( edited for quick copy; original to be out in hardback):
Cinderella learned about Snow, Snow learned about Sleeping, and Sleeping learned about Cinderella. They all got together and over a bottle or two of wine they discussed their revenge. For the Prince would be tricked into drinking a potion that would turn him into a toad. Unfortunately, do to their slight inebriation and miscalculations of some of the ingredients, the Prince was turned into a talking frog.
Alas, the Prince, still armed with his voice, charmed his way into a kiss from an unsuspecting young lady and soon was back to his old ways of philandering across fairy tales.
The truth behind the tale is always entertaining but even far more enlightening.
Blondes reach for the stars!!
1.03.2009
Death by Tree
Cedar and a decaying Spruce has my face and eyes burning with an intensity you could only achieve by rubbing habenero pepper seeds on one's skin.
And why would anyone want to rub peppers on their skin?
Exactly!!
For over a decade, I have had the distinct displeasure of suffering through the reign of terror of the male cedar tree sperm fest.
Upon immediate inhalation of the invisible pollination jizz causes a brain fog that sets in and dismantles my thought receptors. My body goes into lethargic mode, all except nose and eyes which go into hyperactive drain mode.
So why do I feel the need to add to my misery by suffering at my parents house, during the holidays and the annual drying out of the Christmas tree?
I have no idea.
I must be a sucker for punishment. I swear the tree is burning my skin to twice the normal levels that cedar trees can achieve, but my Father refuses to listen.
He loves his tree. Its not his tree that is causing the allergies. The tree stays until Monday. I can go but the tree stays! Meanwhile, I am floating around the house in a daze mumbling under my breath that the dying spruce is killing me.
To make matters worse, my Mother is spraying the tree with her concoction of lavender and green organic cleaner which she insists will help me.
What doesn't kill me will make me stronger!
The survival training I have received from both parents this holiday has given me the necessary techniques needed to live through a terrorist attack. I can snort anthrax like it was nose sugar, drink poison like it was sumptuous wine, and walk through a bomb like it was a spa mist room.
Blondes are a tough kill!!
And why would anyone want to rub peppers on their skin?
Exactly!!
For over a decade, I have had the distinct displeasure of suffering through the reign of terror of the male cedar tree sperm fest.
Upon immediate inhalation of the invisible pollination jizz causes a brain fog that sets in and dismantles my thought receptors. My body goes into lethargic mode, all except nose and eyes which go into hyperactive drain mode.
So why do I feel the need to add to my misery by suffering at my parents house, during the holidays and the annual drying out of the Christmas tree?
I have no idea.
I must be a sucker for punishment. I swear the tree is burning my skin to twice the normal levels that cedar trees can achieve, but my Father refuses to listen.
He loves his tree. Its not his tree that is causing the allergies. The tree stays until Monday. I can go but the tree stays! Meanwhile, I am floating around the house in a daze mumbling under my breath that the dying spruce is killing me.
To make matters worse, my Mother is spraying the tree with her concoction of lavender and green organic cleaner which she insists will help me.
What doesn't kill me will make me stronger!
The survival training I have received from both parents this holiday has given me the necessary techniques needed to live through a terrorist attack. I can snort anthrax like it was nose sugar, drink poison like it was sumptuous wine, and walk through a bomb like it was a spa mist room.
Blondes are a tough kill!!
1.01.2009
The Meaning of New Years
We will write the wrong year on our checks for the next month and a half
Twice as many people will be working out in a sad attempt to achieve the top spot of resolutions
Department stores will log a significantly large number of returned bad present choices
Christmas tree carcasses will line neighborhood driveways until trash day
Scraggly old poinsettias will linger long after their expiration because of the pretty foil and ribbon
DWI lawyers will have an excess of clients to pacify
Credit card companies will hit the lottery on late fees
Novelty hats and tooters will collect dust until Valentines Days
and the maggly meated bone of the spiral ham will finally be tossed out
Welcome to 2009, where everything is new and nothing has changed!!
T
Twice as many people will be working out in a sad attempt to achieve the top spot of resolutions
Department stores will log a significantly large number of returned bad present choices
Christmas tree carcasses will line neighborhood driveways until trash day
Scraggly old poinsettias will linger long after their expiration because of the pretty foil and ribbon
DWI lawyers will have an excess of clients to pacify
Credit card companies will hit the lottery on late fees
Novelty hats and tooters will collect dust until Valentines Days
and the maggly meated bone of the spiral ham will finally be tossed out
Welcome to 2009, where everything is new and nothing has changed!!
T
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)