Why Was I Surprised?

When I let the dogs out at 6:30 this morning, I noticed some coward had, under cover of night, stepped onto OUR property--which we pay for and pay taxes on, and where we live peacefully (except for occasional temper tantrums and dog fights) and lawfully (except for an occasional illegal bonfire or odd/even watering slip)--and stolen our Obama-Biden sign. Someone small and mean, who thinks nothing of my right to freedom of speech; or someone so lacking in confidence for their own candidate that they're afraid of the power of one Obama sign to every 15 McCain-Palin banners in our neighborhood.

I jog and drive by those McPain signs every day--signs I disagree with planted by people I might not like--and as much as they distress me, I would defend to the end my neighbors' right to display them and to support whomever they choose. In fact, I wish all the McCain supporters would put signs in their yards so I'll know exactly who not to invite to all the fabulous parties I plan to have after I clean the house and Biggy finishes the new table he's building and we get the giant hole in the kitchen ceiling fixed.

As for the thief, you represent everything the GOP means to me: You're greedy, mean-spirited, ignorant, entitled, bigoted, a liar, and--of course--a cheater.

Cheat all you want, though. I've got enough signs to last till we win on Tuesday.


The Man I Married

Biggy was awfully accommodating when I asked him to try on that bracelet last week..and Saturday, I caught him wearing my glasses.

8 Years Later

Maybe I was the last one to see this? I've posted the original first:

Not Even God Is Spared The Scare Tactics



For that price, a plastic surgeon could have applied the makeup permanently.

Friday Nostalgia

McCain in 2000:


Sarah Wouldn't Wear That Bracelet

I was going to post something about Palin's $150,000 wardrobe, but this was so much funnier:


Product Review

A few weeks ago, I received an email asking if I'd be interested in reviewing products on my blog. The deal was, I'd get free merchandise to try out (swag and subject matter--what a deal!). Today, I received a freshwater pearl bracelet from www.pearlnecklacecenter.com.

It's a sweet little thing, beaded onto elastic thread, so it doesn't hang and dangle or slide up and down. I've noticed I lose credibility with my kids or classes when my puppy-dog charm bracelet shimmies around while I'm punctuating the air. These pearls, on the other hand (wrist, really), are nice and snug. But thanks to the stretchiness, I could eat a tub of buttered popcorn or a Denny's Grand Slam and it would still fit the next day.

For you young ladies, it will look fabulous with your disco dress on Saturday night yet transition well for wearing home Sunday morning, dressed in that guy's roommate's sister's Soffe's and his Dave Matthews tee shirt (You earned that shirt!).

Or, if you're looking for a thoughtful yet practical--and reasonably priced--gift for someone special, they also have earrings, necklaces, and more bracelets to choose from. Not just freshwater pearls, either, but Akoya saltwater pearls as well. And everything is guaranteed. Mamoo, this particular bracelet would be a perfect gift for Granny, because she can put it on and take it off by herself instead of calling you to drive over to the nursing home.

Though I usually don't let anyone touch my new stuff until I've had it at least 48 hours, I did let Biggy and Stella try it on to illustrate how versatile it is:


Can't Get Enough Ray

We saw him again Saturday night, at the Tabernacle. Incredible.

Biggy has admitted to having a man-crush.


The Same CrazyEyes

Michelle Bachman & Jennifer Wilbanks


The Company You Keep

When the character of a man is not clear, look at his friends.

---old Japanese proverb

The Future

This is me and Fay in 20 years.

A Valuable Lesson

Yesterday, in the car, after picking Lola up from the After School Program:

Lo: You're not going to believe this. T wet her pants at ASP.

TR: You're kidding!

Lo: No, really. You don't see that happen much with third-graders.

TR: So, tell me the story.

Lo: Well, we were playing dragons, and she kept squatting down with her hands between her legs. I asked her what she was doing, and she said she had to pee. So I said, 'Go pee already,' but she said she could wait. Then one time she said, 'I peed a little in my pants,' and she got up, and I said, 'Oh, my god, you peed a LOT!'

TR: Oooh, not good.

Lo: She kept right on playing. And nobody even talked about her.


Lo: I guess that's the key--to pretend you don't care.

Friday Nostalgia


I Think We Know the Answer

Huffington's take on Old Sourpuss made me laugh:

This debate wasn't decided on the arguments being made. It was won on the reaction shots. Every time Obama spoke, McCain grimaced, sneered, rapidly blinked, or rolled his eyes. "He looked like Captain Ahab, again and again going after Moby Dick," John Cusack told me. "Or an animal caught in a bear trap. He even seemed pissed at Joe the Plumber."

McCain's contemptuous reactions were so intense and frequent, they've already been turned into a YouTube video. The disdain McCain feels for Obama was unmistakable. It's as if Obama is not just blocking his way to the White House, but robbing him of his destiny.

By contrast, every time McCain was on the attack, Obama was smiling. And the nastier McCain got, the brighter Obama's smile became. It was the non-verbal equivalent of Reagan's disarming "There you go again" -- and it served to underline McCain's need for anger management. The angrier McCain got, the more unruffled Obama appeared.


The Bert Show Blows (his) Own Horn

I haven't been listening to the show. I've been listening to classic rock on 97.1 (The River) instead. But I tuned in to the Bert Show a couple of days ago during one of their "closure calls." In these bits, people have the Bert Show call their ex to see if there's any chance of reconciliation. This particular day, the story was that the woman had cheated on her ex and married her partner in crime. The marriage had tanked, of course, helping her find god, and she wanted to give the ex a chance to say everything he must have been holding inside--all those ugly things about her he'd never said. Evidently, he'd just walked away after he found out she'd cheated. No words had ever been exchanged. Now, she was ready to take her licks (and, well, if there were any chance he'd like to get back together...). End result, the guy told the show through email that the gal was a delusional sociopath and he wanted nothing to do with her. Upon hearing that, she WENT OFF and proved his point that she was a lunatic, calling him a coward and pathetic and blaming him for the fact she cheated to begin with.

It was all extremely entertaining, being that I'm so easily entertained, and it reminded me of what I do like about the Bert Show and why I've suffered through it in the past.

So I turned it on again this morning, and they were playing a segment about this good samaritan who goes around to gas stations treating people to a tank of gas. It was a sweet story meant to inspire us all to do random acts of kindness during these tough times. Awesome.

But then Bert had to turn around and tell us about how he decided to do the same thing. He talked about how he chose the downtrodden recipient of his charity--the lady with the beat up (and dirty!) mini van. He told us about how the $60 to fill her tank was no big deal for him since his family was doing so well right now, having made some lucky business choices. Blah, blah, blah. It was all related with a tone of aw-shucks false modesty.

Then the calls started coming in about what a great guy he is.

I've mentioned his self-aggrandizing as one of my beefs. It's right under the mutilated grammar. It used to REALLY grate on me when they did a week's worth of Bert's Big Adventure on the air, live from Disney, milking those kids and their families for all their worth. Holy cow! Do a good thing. Promote it on the air. Let it work for the station and show as you get the public involved, contributing, excited. But let it stop there. Not only did the lengthy live coverage seem exploitive and manipulative, it was also boring radio. Booooooooooooring.

It's a good cause, don't get me wrong. Go help 'em out, even.

But don't go around announcing it to the world if you do. As the poet William Hutton put it, "The charity that hastens to proclaim its good deeds, ceases to be charity, and is only pride and ostentation."


Sanity Check

While jogging in the 'hood this morning, I saw a cat and was speaking extra loud meow-meow to it (had my earphones in and the new Ray LaMontagne playing) when I looked up and noticed the cat's owner standing in the driveway, coffee cup in hand, watching me.

Big guy. Looked like Mr. Clean.

Who Ruined My Couch


Quite the Strategy

This from an article on ABC news:

McCain, speaking today in Virginia Beach, Va., acknowledged his campaign was trailing, but denied the race was over.

"The national media has written us off. Sen. Obama is measuring the drapes," he said to a cheering throng. He added, " My friends, we've got them just where we want them."


This Occurred to Me During the Debate

Of course, Uncle Fester had a much better temperament.


Back in 2000, He Said Something True

McCain's own words, commenting on The Bush/Rove tactics against him back-when:

"Sooner or later people are going to figure out that if all you run is negative attack ads you don't have much of a vision for the future, or you're not ready to articulate it."

Less than a Month to Go

One of my favorite Stephen Dobyns poems:

Where We Are
(after Bede)

A man tears a chunk of bread off the brown loaf,
then wipes the gravy from his plate. Around him
at the long table, friends fill their mouths
with duck and roast pork, fill their cups from
pitchers of wine. Hearing a high twittering, the man

looks to see a bird—black with a white patch
beneath its beak—flying the length of the hall,
having flown in by a window over the door. As straight
as a taut string, the bird flies beneath the roofbeams,
as firelight flings its shadow against the ceiling.

The man pauses—one hand holds the bread, the other
rests upon the table—and watches the bird, perhaps
a swift, fly toward the window at the far end of the room.
He begins to point it out to his friends, but one is
telling hunting stories, as another describes the best way

to butcher a pig. The man shoves the bread in his mouth,
then slaps his hand down hard on the thigh of the woman
seated beside him, squeezes his fingers to feel the firm
muscles and tendons beneath the fabric of her dress.
A huge dog snores on the stone hearth by the fire.

From the window comes the clicking of pine needles
blown against it by an October wind. A half moon
hurries along behind scattered clouds, while the forest
of black spruce and bare maple and birch surrounds
the long hall the way a single rock can be surrounded

by a river. This is where we are in history—to think
the table will remain full; to think the forest will
remain where we have pushed it; to think our bubble of
good fortune will save us from the night—a bird flies in
from the dark, flits across a lighted hall and disappears.


Changing the Subject

Tired of my harping on politics? Let's move on to a subject infinitely more exciting--a product I'm happy to share. As the keeper of a small petting zoo, I've had opportunity to try a variety of cage liners and bedding. Anyone who's been in my house can attest to the lack of success I've had as far as odor control. Go into any lo-rent strip mall pet store and that's what my house smells like. Or did, rather. Fresh World is exactly as it says. It's absorbent, less messy, more economical, environmentally friendly, and it controls the odor. If you have hamsters or guinea pigs, you should try it.

She Can Still Afford Starbucks

I'm sure you've seen this already--Palin misquoting Madeleine Albright:

The actual quote, a little different:

But let's just go with it either way--quote or misquote--and I agree. I too believe there's a special hell reserved for women who fail to help and support other women. And there's a special seat in that special hell for women who knowingly hurt other women, whether it be by dating married men or by campaigning against equal pay, choice, and healthcare for everyone.

Palin is the Anti-Woman.


Can't Think of a Title

I've been thinking a lot about the stupid video of those kids singing the Obama 'Hope' song, especially as I've read the Rigid Right's comments re it on various blogs and religulous websites. I thought it was stupid and misguided, but the comparisons to the Communists and the Nazis are laughable. The world--this country in particular--is full of opportunistic parents who would involve their kids in such a scenario. But we're not teaching this song in our schools, etc.

How 'bout this? How about we stop brainwashing our kids altogether? And while we're at it, why don't we stop exploiting them and allowing them to exploit themselves? Whether it's to promote god, the flag, ideology, a product, or a team?

In other words, we've got bigger fish to fry:


Friday Nostalgia

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. (George Santayana)


Who Doesn't Like to Play With Dolls?

This morning, the Amputee-of-Today Show did a report on Reborn Dolls and the women who collect them. I was stunned by the insanity. (I mean, get a puppy, for crying out loud! At least it's alive.) So I went to Youtube to find a clip for you.

I was still sitting in my little pile of shock, thinking CRAZY BROADS, when I remembered an article I read on Salon a while back. Oh yes, the men have these ladies beat.

***UPDATE***Case in point:

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