What do you get when you eat a BlackBerry?
Bluetooth.
-- From "Berryman" at www.crackberry.com
Friday, November 28, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
You know you're drinking too much coffee when...
You answer the door before people knock.
You haven't blinked since the last lunar eclipse.
You're the Employee of the Month at the local coffee house and you don't even work there.
Cocaine is a downer.
You go to AA meetings just for the free coffee.
You walk 20 miles on your treadmill before you realize it's not plugged in.
Starbucks owns the mortgage on your house.
You want to be cremated just so you can spend the rest of eternity in a coffee can.
You haven't blinked since the last lunar eclipse.
You're the Employee of the Month at the local coffee house and you don't even work there.
Cocaine is a downer.
You go to AA meetings just for the free coffee.
You walk 20 miles on your treadmill before you realize it's not plugged in.
Starbucks owns the mortgage on your house.
You want to be cremated just so you can spend the rest of eternity in a coffee can.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Barack the Vote
I kid you not, I didn't decide who I was going to vote for until I was staring at the electronic voting pad in the voting booth. I chose Obama. Weighing the pros and cons, everything pointed in Obama's favor. I do not regret my decision.
This is the first time in my voting life that I have voted for a Democrat. Whadda ya know! The first time I ever voted was in 1980. I registered as an Independent and voted for John Anderson. After that, it was pretty much Republican all the way. Until this year. Obama was right...it's all about change. I want change. I'm ready for a new America and a new start.
My prayers are with President (elect) Obama and his family.
This is the first time in my voting life that I have voted for a Democrat. Whadda ya know! The first time I ever voted was in 1980. I registered as an Independent and voted for John Anderson. After that, it was pretty much Republican all the way. Until this year. Obama was right...it's all about change. I want change. I'm ready for a new America and a new start.
My prayers are with President (elect) Obama and his family.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Voting for McBama
The day before the election, I want to state my prediction on the outcome of the presidential race. Obama will win. No surprises. He will win because of the youth vote and because people are disappointed (to say the least) in the current administration, which happens to be Republican. They will also vote for Obama because they believe he exudes hope and change...which we desperately need.
McCain might have had a fighting chance if he had chosen a different running mate. His choice of Sarah Palin was his downfall. I lost all respect for his ability to make good decisions. And I think many Americans agree with me. Kathleen Parker was right...Sarah Palin should have stepped down. But even if she had, it would have been too late. The choice of Palin in the first place was McCain's biggest mistake in the election.
(Parker's article):
http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=MDZiMDhjYTU1NmI5Y2MwZjg2MWNiMWMyYTUxZDkwNTE=#more
Personally, I was pro-Obama for several months. I was mesmerized by his speeches. He was, and is, inspiring and brings out the best in our natures. I admire his idealism and optimism for America.
After the primaries, when Obama defeated Hillary and the race was between McCain and Obama, I was undecided. I've been a fan of John McCain since 2000 when he ran against GW Bush in the primary. I admire McCain's courage and respect his military service to our country. I think he's better qualified in terms of foreign policy and the war in Iraq.
I respectfully admire both McCain and Obama. Either one would be a good president. Even now, hours before the election, I'm still "undecided" in many ways. I'm not happy with Obama's economic plan and his stance on Iraq. I'm also nervous about his inexperience in foreign policy. On the other hand, I'm very pleased with his choice for VP and Colin Powell's endorsement nudged me even closer to voting for Obama. I think Obama would be an excellent representative of America in the world and would gain the respect we seem to have lost in the last few years.
As for McCain, I am not happy with his VP choice. I do not want this woman one heart beat away from the presidency. This is the PRIMARY reason I hesitate to vote for McCain. In addition, I don't think he can move the country in a new direction. He's been a senator for decades and not much has changed. His age is also a drawback; he is from the Old School of politics, while Obama represents a younger, more vital world view.
Issues aside, I like the idea of a black president. I like the idea of a family with young children living in the White House. Michelle Obama is brilliant and beautiful.
The "Joe the Plumber" incident really opened my eyes in terms of Obama's economic plan...sharing the wealth, etc. I don't believe that is the way to go. I'm a staunch capitalist. I'm also concerned about Obama's notorious co-horts, Reverend Wright and Bill Ayers. Something else to think about.
So who will I vote for tomorrow? I'll let you know.
McCain might have had a fighting chance if he had chosen a different running mate. His choice of Sarah Palin was his downfall. I lost all respect for his ability to make good decisions. And I think many Americans agree with me. Kathleen Parker was right...Sarah Palin should have stepped down. But even if she had, it would have been too late. The choice of Palin in the first place was McCain's biggest mistake in the election.
(Parker's article):
http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=MDZiMDhjYTU1NmI5Y2MwZjg2MWNiMWMyYTUxZDkwNTE=#more
Personally, I was pro-Obama for several months. I was mesmerized by his speeches. He was, and is, inspiring and brings out the best in our natures. I admire his idealism and optimism for America.
After the primaries, when Obama defeated Hillary and the race was between McCain and Obama, I was undecided. I've been a fan of John McCain since 2000 when he ran against GW Bush in the primary. I admire McCain's courage and respect his military service to our country. I think he's better qualified in terms of foreign policy and the war in Iraq.
I respectfully admire both McCain and Obama. Either one would be a good president. Even now, hours before the election, I'm still "undecided" in many ways. I'm not happy with Obama's economic plan and his stance on Iraq. I'm also nervous about his inexperience in foreign policy. On the other hand, I'm very pleased with his choice for VP and Colin Powell's endorsement nudged me even closer to voting for Obama. I think Obama would be an excellent representative of America in the world and would gain the respect we seem to have lost in the last few years.
As for McCain, I am not happy with his VP choice. I do not want this woman one heart beat away from the presidency. This is the PRIMARY reason I hesitate to vote for McCain. In addition, I don't think he can move the country in a new direction. He's been a senator for decades and not much has changed. His age is also a drawback; he is from the Old School of politics, while Obama represents a younger, more vital world view.
Issues aside, I like the idea of a black president. I like the idea of a family with young children living in the White House. Michelle Obama is brilliant and beautiful.
The "Joe the Plumber" incident really opened my eyes in terms of Obama's economic plan...sharing the wealth, etc. I don't believe that is the way to go. I'm a staunch capitalist. I'm also concerned about Obama's notorious co-horts, Reverend Wright and Bill Ayers. Something else to think about.
So who will I vote for tomorrow? I'll let you know.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Chester's Way
My granddaughter Lily will be celebrating her fourth birthday on November 26. Since we live many miles away, I won't be able to see her and share in her dinosaur party. HOWEVER, I do have a terrific idea for a birthday gift. I'm going to have hubby make a video of me reading her a story book. How cool is that?
The book I've chosen is "Chester's Way" by Kevin Henkes. The illustrations are delightful and the story is full of imagination and fun. There's even a character named Lilly! Spelled differently than my little lamb, but I think she'll get a kick out of it.
As a lover of children's literature, I think this ranks as one of the best story books for young children.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
It's all about the candy
I love Halloween. It's the only time of the year when I can dress up in a costume in public. This will be my first Halloween at my new job. I work in an office and it looks like the holiday is celebrated with much fanfare. There will be a Halloween party during office hours which includes a pumpkin carving contest, a costume contest, food and fun. The party room is decorated with bats, spiders, cobwebs, jack-o-lanterns, witches, skulls, skeletons, ghosts, etc.
I will wear my conservative office witch costume: pumpkin-colored mock turtleneck, black pants, black cape and orange & black striped witch hat. In past Halloweens I've been Harpo Marx, a gypsy, a pirate...and a clown. I don't know about you, but clowns are really creepy. My vote for the scariest clown in the history of the world is Ronald McDonald. (Shiver!)
As for the home front, I give out candy to the kids. My preference is anything with chocolate. This year it's Kit Kats and Snickers. Today I went on a baking binge and made some chocolate cookies. Martha Stewart's recipe and very tasty. Tonight at our singing group, one of the ladies brought special treats: Halloween cupcakes with various "objects" stuck in the icing...eyeballs, spiders, bats, a green hand reaching out from the grave. I chose one of the eyeball cupcakes...it was chocolate. Enough said.
I will wear my conservative office witch costume: pumpkin-colored mock turtleneck, black pants, black cape and orange & black striped witch hat. In past Halloweens I've been Harpo Marx, a gypsy, a pirate...and a clown. I don't know about you, but clowns are really creepy. My vote for the scariest clown in the history of the world is Ronald McDonald. (Shiver!)
As for the home front, I give out candy to the kids. My preference is anything with chocolate. This year it's Kit Kats and Snickers. Today I went on a baking binge and made some chocolate cookies. Martha Stewart's recipe and very tasty. Tonight at our singing group, one of the ladies brought special treats: Halloween cupcakes with various "objects" stuck in the icing...eyeballs, spiders, bats, a green hand reaching out from the grave. I chose one of the eyeball cupcakes...it was chocolate. Enough said.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Iron Man
I'm one of those fortunate people to have a good friend who likes the same kinds of films I do. She recommends films for me to watch and vise versa. I've never once been disappointed.
I admit that I'm a fan of superhero movies, but I'm selective. Superman, Batman and Spider-Man...YES! Hulk, Hellboy, Hancock...not too crazy about.
At her suggestion, I just finished watching "Iron Man." I didn't know anything about it; I've never read the Iron Man story so my imagination was wide open for whatever Hollywood could throw my way.
My first spine-tingling thrill was realizing that Robert Downey Jr. starred in the movie. I did a double take. WHAT!? I've been a fan of RDJ for years. Loved him best in "Only You" with Marissa Tomei (who wouldn't?) Now he's a SUPERHERO? You've got to be kidding.
His character, Tony Stark, is a wealthy ego-maniac who just happens to be a brilliant scientist. Yes, they're a dime dozen.
I was also pleased that Jeff Bridges was in the movie. Another fave of mine. Loved him best in "The Fabulous Baker Boys" and his hilarious supporting role in "The Muse" with Albert Brooks who just happens to be the funniest man on earth.
I was surprised that Jeff was the bad guy. I hate it when he's the bad guy. Sigh. And why on earth was he BALD?! The bald wig was a big mistake. Looks great on Mike Meyers, but Jeff looked like Daddy Warbucks with a goatee.
Best scenes:
RDJ in the cave in Afghanistan creating the Iron Man prototype.
RDJ in his laboratory testing the new Iron Man prototype.
RDJ dancing with Gwenyth Paltrow.
GROSSEST SCENE: RDJ pulling that wire out of his nose. To tell the truth, I didn't even see it all the way through...had to close my eyes and peek through my fingers.
First Runner Up for GROSSEST SCENE: Gwenyth pulling the chest power plug out of RDJ's chest and replacing it with the new and improved one.
Most Satisfying Moment: RDJ is just about to die because Jeff stole his chest power plug. RDJ crawls to his lab to get the spare and can't reach it. He collapses and his robotic arm machine, sensing his need, gives it to him. The robot thingy should be nominated for best supporting actor.
I admit that I'm a fan of superhero movies, but I'm selective. Superman, Batman and Spider-Man...YES! Hulk, Hellboy, Hancock...not too crazy about.
At her suggestion, I just finished watching "Iron Man." I didn't know anything about it; I've never read the Iron Man story so my imagination was wide open for whatever Hollywood could throw my way.
My first spine-tingling thrill was realizing that Robert Downey Jr. starred in the movie. I did a double take. WHAT!? I've been a fan of RDJ for years. Loved him best in "Only You" with Marissa Tomei (who wouldn't?) Now he's a SUPERHERO? You've got to be kidding.
His character, Tony Stark, is a wealthy ego-maniac who just happens to be a brilliant scientist. Yes, they're a dime dozen.
I was also pleased that Jeff Bridges was in the movie. Another fave of mine. Loved him best in "The Fabulous Baker Boys" and his hilarious supporting role in "The Muse" with Albert Brooks who just happens to be the funniest man on earth.
I was surprised that Jeff was the bad guy. I hate it when he's the bad guy. Sigh. And why on earth was he BALD?! The bald wig was a big mistake. Looks great on Mike Meyers, but Jeff looked like Daddy Warbucks with a goatee.
Best scenes:
RDJ in the cave in Afghanistan creating the Iron Man prototype.
RDJ in his laboratory testing the new Iron Man prototype.
RDJ dancing with Gwenyth Paltrow.
GROSSEST SCENE: RDJ pulling that wire out of his nose. To tell the truth, I didn't even see it all the way through...had to close my eyes and peek through my fingers.
First Runner Up for GROSSEST SCENE: Gwenyth pulling the chest power plug out of RDJ's chest and replacing it with the new and improved one.
Most Satisfying Moment: RDJ is just about to die because Jeff stole his chest power plug. RDJ crawls to his lab to get the spare and can't reach it. He collapses and his robotic arm machine, sensing his need, gives it to him. The robot thingy should be nominated for best supporting actor.
Naturally, the theme song at the end was none other than Black Sabbath's "Iron Man."
In conclusion, I rank this one of the best superhero movies of all time.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Sure fire signs that your cow has mad-cow disease:
Your cow insists on wearing a little A-1 sauce behind each ear as cologne.
She refuses to let you milk her, saying "Not on the first date."
Your cow takes up painting and cuts off one of its ears.
Your cow gets a silicon implant for her udder.
Your cow appears on Oprah, claiming to be a horse trapped in a cow's body.
Your cow demands to be branded with the 'Golden Archs Logo'.
Your cow insists that all Hindus are sacred.
Your cow insists evaporated milk comes from thirsty cows.
Your cow quits the family dairy business and applies for a job at Burger King.
She starts giving you Milk of Amnesia.
Your cow joins the Hell's Angels because, hey, it already has a cool leather jacket.
Your cow starts smoking its grass rather than eating it.
Your cow spends half the day sitting in the Lotus Position chanting "MOO" backwards.
Your cow insists that it can give you chocolate milk if you started feeding it Hershey bars.
Your cow asks you to brand it again but only if you'll wear something sexy this time.
Your cow purposely blinds itself with a dart and yells "Bullseye"!
Your cow becomes a Muslim and asks to be called "LaCream Abdul Milkbar."
Your cow insists Milk Duds are the result of stupid cows.
Your cow starts laughing hysterically until milk spurts out its nose.
You find your cow hiding secret plans to burn down half of Chicago.
Your cow keeps wanting to chew other cows cuds.
Your cow believes it could really jump over the moon like in the nursery rhyme if it had a really good run at it.
She refuses to let you milk her, saying "Not on the first date."
Your cow takes up painting and cuts off one of its ears.
Your cow gets a silicon implant for her udder.
Your cow appears on Oprah, claiming to be a horse trapped in a cow's body.
Your cow demands to be branded with the 'Golden Archs Logo'.
Your cow insists that all Hindus are sacred.
Your cow insists evaporated milk comes from thirsty cows.
Your cow quits the family dairy business and applies for a job at Burger King.
She starts giving you Milk of Amnesia.
Your cow joins the Hell's Angels because, hey, it already has a cool leather jacket.
Your cow starts smoking its grass rather than eating it.
Your cow spends half the day sitting in the Lotus Position chanting "MOO" backwards.
Your cow insists that it can give you chocolate milk if you started feeding it Hershey bars.
Your cow asks you to brand it again but only if you'll wear something sexy this time.
Your cow purposely blinds itself with a dart and yells "Bullseye"!
Your cow becomes a Muslim and asks to be called "LaCream Abdul Milkbar."
Your cow insists Milk Duds are the result of stupid cows.
Your cow starts laughing hysterically until milk spurts out its nose.
You find your cow hiding secret plans to burn down half of Chicago.
Your cow keeps wanting to chew other cows cuds.
Your cow believes it could really jump over the moon like in the nursery rhyme if it had a really good run at it.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Political Humor
Okay, I'm reading the op-ed section of the newspaper this morning and came across an article by Doug Hecox, a Wyomingite who just happens to live in Washington, D.C. and is also a comedian.
The article riffed on the VP debate that was held last Thursday between Sarah Palin and Joe Biden. Like me, Hecox is an undecided voter. The debate didn't sway his vote, nor mine. Although I'm leaning more toward Obama.
Anyway, back to the article. Here's an excerpt:
Literally, anything can happen with a McCain/Palin administration. For example, on January 20, Mr. McCain could become president. The next day, he would bomb Hanoi for obvious reasons and, hours later, he would likely be impeached--leaving Mrs. Palin as America's new president.
Here's a link to Hecox's website:
www.dougfun.com
The article riffed on the VP debate that was held last Thursday between Sarah Palin and Joe Biden. Like me, Hecox is an undecided voter. The debate didn't sway his vote, nor mine. Although I'm leaning more toward Obama.
Anyway, back to the article. Here's an excerpt:
Literally, anything can happen with a McCain/Palin administration. For example, on January 20, Mr. McCain could become president. The next day, he would bomb Hanoi for obvious reasons and, hours later, he would likely be impeached--leaving Mrs. Palin as America's new president.
Here's a link to Hecox's website:
www.dougfun.com
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Monday, September 08, 2008
Monday, September 01, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
O, Nanny, where art thou?
Okay, so I'm checking out the New York Times on the web and come across an article by Eric Konigsberg called "Let's Face It, This Isn't a Job for Supernanny." Needless to say, I was intrigued.
Check out the link:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/28/nyregion/28nanny.html?_r=1&oref=slogin
There's something about nanny's. They are very cool. I guess they have to be to deal with various and sundry situations involving bubblegum, poison oak and Flintstone band aids. (Am I talking about nannies or Erma Bombeck?)
In my experience as a middle-class Rocky Mountain denizen, the only official "nanny" I'd ever heard of was Mary Poppins. She had a lovely British accent, a clean, stalwart Nanny uniform, and an amazing soprano that could reach high "C."
As a teen, I didn't enjoy babysitting. Not. One. Bit. But that didn't stop my parents from setting me up to babysit their friends kids so they could all go out. I dug in my heels and refused. And it wasn't about the money. I just didn't like babysitting. Period.
I suppose I could have pretended I was a nanny, like Julie Andrews. Sing to the kids about raindrops and roses and whiskers on kittens. Give them spoonfuls of sugar and watch them bounce off the walls. Sew clothes for them out of draperies. No, I don't think so. The chaos would be my undoing. I'd be tempted to pop open my magic umbrella and escape into a Magritte painting.
Check out the link:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/28/nyregion/28nanny.html?_r=1&oref=slogin
There's something about nanny's. They are very cool. I guess they have to be to deal with various and sundry situations involving bubblegum, poison oak and Flintstone band aids. (Am I talking about nannies or Erma Bombeck?)
In my experience as a middle-class Rocky Mountain denizen, the only official "nanny" I'd ever heard of was Mary Poppins. She had a lovely British accent, a clean, stalwart Nanny uniform, and an amazing soprano that could reach high "C."
As a teen, I didn't enjoy babysitting. Not. One. Bit. But that didn't stop my parents from setting me up to babysit their friends kids so they could all go out. I dug in my heels and refused. And it wasn't about the money. I just didn't like babysitting. Period.
I suppose I could have pretended I was a nanny, like Julie Andrews. Sing to the kids about raindrops and roses and whiskers on kittens. Give them spoonfuls of sugar and watch them bounce off the walls. Sew clothes for them out of draperies. No, I don't think so. The chaos would be my undoing. I'd be tempted to pop open my magic umbrella and escape into a Magritte painting.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Everybody Likes It Hot
“Nobody’s perfect.” Maybe Osgood Fielding III had it right. Or maybe not. When it comes to “Some Like It Hot,” that clichéd platitude just doesn’t hold water. Directed by Billy Wilder and starring Tony Curtis, Jack Lemmon and Marilyn Monroe, this 1959 film is a perfect example of a genre-buster. There’s something for everyone.
The story: Chicago, 1929. Joe (Curtis) and Jerry (Lemmon), two down-on-their luck musicians, witness the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre and find themselves on the run. They elude Spats Colombo and his mob by skipping town disguised as women in an all-girl band. That’s right, folks. Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon in drag! ZOWIE!
So what kind of movie is “Some Like It Hot”? A comedy, of course. But more than a comedy. Much more.
It’s a Buddy Film: Joe (aka Josephine) and Jerry (aka Daphne) are best friends. They even share the same blood type (type “O”). But when the omelet hits the fan, they change from guys to gals faster than you can say “Pass the lipstick.”
It’s a Musical: Monroe as Sugar Kane “boop boopy doo’s” herself into Joe’s heart while Jerry and Osgood dance a sizzling tango with such elegance that they make Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers look like a couple of chimpanzees on roller skates.
It’s an Action Movie: Car chases, machine guns and a birthday cake. Danger lurks around every corner as men in skirts and high heels run for their lives on slick linoleum.
It’s a Romance: Flowers, diamond bracelets, booze. Love is in the air. Joe loves Sugar…Sugar loves Junior…Osgood loves Daphne…the bell boy loves Josephine…Spats loves buttermilk.
It’s an Art Film: Shot in black-and-white, it’s a hard-hitting social commentary about the politics of Prohibition, trans-gender issues and the universal truth that blondes really do have more fun.
It’s a Family Movie: Okay, maybe not.
It’s a Drama: Just try to hold back your tears when Sugar tells about her obsession with saxophone players and how she’s always getting the fuzzy end of the lollypop. Not to mention the squeezed-out tube of toothpaste.
It’s a Suspense: Does Jerry’s wig fall off while swimming with the girls? Will too much Sugar put Joe in a diabetic coma? And what’s the significance of the bicycle? Is it derivative of “Citizen Kane” and the mysterious “rosebud”?
Perhaps the genre that best describes “Some Like It Hot” is the Chick Flick. Sig at the talent agency summed it up nicely: “Ya gotta be under 25…ya gotta be blonde…and ya gotta be girls.” SNAP!
There’s Sweet Sue, the hard-nosed career woman who rules her all-girl band, the Society Syncopaters, with a rod of iron…Hillary Clinton of the Jazz Age. On the other side of the spectrum is Sugar, the voluptuous ukulele player who wants to marry a millionaire. Men go ga-ga over her despite the fact that she is so NOT a size four.
One of the fun things about chick flicks is watching the fashions. You won’t be disappointed. Joe’s adorable faux fur collar is to die for, and Jerry’s chic evening gown will make you downright jealous. And while it’s true that Joe has sexier legs, Jerry’s hair style is way cuter.
But it gets better. As women, Joe and Jerry have no trouble attracting the opposite sex (uh…meaning men, not women…I think). Joe is pursued by the bell boy, while Jerry catches the eye of Osgood, who even proposes marriage! If Joe and Jerry can snag a guy, there’s hope for single ladies…and gents…everywhere.
In this movie appearances can be deceiving. Women are men. Men are women. Seams are straight. But one thing is certain. Everybody likes it hot.
The story: Chicago, 1929. Joe (Curtis) and Jerry (Lemmon), two down-on-their luck musicians, witness the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre and find themselves on the run. They elude Spats Colombo and his mob by skipping town disguised as women in an all-girl band. That’s right, folks. Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon in drag! ZOWIE!
So what kind of movie is “Some Like It Hot”? A comedy, of course. But more than a comedy. Much more.
It’s a Buddy Film: Joe (aka Josephine) and Jerry (aka Daphne) are best friends. They even share the same blood type (type “O”). But when the omelet hits the fan, they change from guys to gals faster than you can say “Pass the lipstick.”
It’s a Musical: Monroe as Sugar Kane “boop boopy doo’s” herself into Joe’s heart while Jerry and Osgood dance a sizzling tango with such elegance that they make Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers look like a couple of chimpanzees on roller skates.
It’s an Action Movie: Car chases, machine guns and a birthday cake. Danger lurks around every corner as men in skirts and high heels run for their lives on slick linoleum.
It’s a Romance: Flowers, diamond bracelets, booze. Love is in the air. Joe loves Sugar…Sugar loves Junior…Osgood loves Daphne…the bell boy loves Josephine…Spats loves buttermilk.
It’s an Art Film: Shot in black-and-white, it’s a hard-hitting social commentary about the politics of Prohibition, trans-gender issues and the universal truth that blondes really do have more fun.
It’s a Family Movie: Okay, maybe not.
It’s a Drama: Just try to hold back your tears when Sugar tells about her obsession with saxophone players and how she’s always getting the fuzzy end of the lollypop. Not to mention the squeezed-out tube of toothpaste.
It’s a Suspense: Does Jerry’s wig fall off while swimming with the girls? Will too much Sugar put Joe in a diabetic coma? And what’s the significance of the bicycle? Is it derivative of “Citizen Kane” and the mysterious “rosebud”?
Perhaps the genre that best describes “Some Like It Hot” is the Chick Flick. Sig at the talent agency summed it up nicely: “Ya gotta be under 25…ya gotta be blonde…and ya gotta be girls.” SNAP!
There’s Sweet Sue, the hard-nosed career woman who rules her all-girl band, the Society Syncopaters, with a rod of iron…Hillary Clinton of the Jazz Age. On the other side of the spectrum is Sugar, the voluptuous ukulele player who wants to marry a millionaire. Men go ga-ga over her despite the fact that she is so NOT a size four.
One of the fun things about chick flicks is watching the fashions. You won’t be disappointed. Joe’s adorable faux fur collar is to die for, and Jerry’s chic evening gown will make you downright jealous. And while it’s true that Joe has sexier legs, Jerry’s hair style is way cuter.
But it gets better. As women, Joe and Jerry have no trouble attracting the opposite sex (uh…meaning men, not women…I think). Joe is pursued by the bell boy, while Jerry catches the eye of Osgood, who even proposes marriage! If Joe and Jerry can snag a guy, there’s hope for single ladies…and gents…everywhere.
In this movie appearances can be deceiving. Women are men. Men are women. Seams are straight. But one thing is certain. Everybody likes it hot.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Fat Cat
Introducing Princess Chunk, a 44-pound cat found waddling around New Jersey. She is in the care of a local animal shelter and is awaiting adoption. One can only hope she gets on the Jenny Craig Program asap.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Standing in Line at the Movies
MOM: If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times. NO MILK DUDS!
LITTLE BOY: You said I could have whatever I wanted. I want Milk Duds.
MOM: They stick to your teeth. You can have Skittles.
LITTLE BOY: I hate Skittles.
MOM: Then how about Butterfinger?
LITTLE BOY: No.
MOM: Okay, forget it! You get nothing, do you hear me? NOTHING!
LITTLE BOY: You're mean!
MOM: We're going home!
LITTLE BOY: Okay, I'll take the Skittles.
*****
MAN: This movie got great reviews. Two thumbs up.
WOMAN: That’s funny. I read that it was a real snooze fest.
*****
TEEN GIRL ONE: Josh is going to meet us in the balcony.
TEEN GIRL TWO: Omigod! You’re mom is gonna kill you.
TEEN GIRL ONE: Not if she doesn’t find out.
*****
MIDDLE AGED WOMAN ONE: I don’t care what they say. The Musical is not dead. Explain “Chicago,” “High School Musical,” “Hairspray.”
MIDDLE AGE WOMAN TWO: I can’t. But don’t tell me John Travolta in drag is a box office draw.
*****
BOY ONE: I’ve seen this movie six times.
BOY TWO: Don’t tell me how it ends.
BOY ONE: The guy dies.
BOY TWO: Shut Up!
*****
OLD MAN: Twenty dollars for popcorn and soda. What’s the world coming to?
OLD WOMAN: Nobody said you had to buy snacks.
OLD MAN: Are you crazy? You can’t go to the movies without popcorn. It’s sacrilegious.
OLD WOMAN: Well, at least we got the senior discount.
LITTLE BOY: You said I could have whatever I wanted. I want Milk Duds.
MOM: They stick to your teeth. You can have Skittles.
LITTLE BOY: I hate Skittles.
MOM: Then how about Butterfinger?
LITTLE BOY: No.
MOM: Okay, forget it! You get nothing, do you hear me? NOTHING!
LITTLE BOY: You're mean!
MOM: We're going home!
LITTLE BOY: Okay, I'll take the Skittles.
*****
MAN: This movie got great reviews. Two thumbs up.
WOMAN: That’s funny. I read that it was a real snooze fest.
*****
TEEN GIRL ONE: Josh is going to meet us in the balcony.
TEEN GIRL TWO: Omigod! You’re mom is gonna kill you.
TEEN GIRL ONE: Not if she doesn’t find out.
*****
MIDDLE AGED WOMAN ONE: I don’t care what they say. The Musical is not dead. Explain “Chicago,” “High School Musical,” “Hairspray.”
MIDDLE AGE WOMAN TWO: I can’t. But don’t tell me John Travolta in drag is a box office draw.
*****
BOY ONE: I’ve seen this movie six times.
BOY TWO: Don’t tell me how it ends.
BOY ONE: The guy dies.
BOY TWO: Shut Up!
*****
OLD MAN: Twenty dollars for popcorn and soda. What’s the world coming to?
OLD WOMAN: Nobody said you had to buy snacks.
OLD MAN: Are you crazy? You can’t go to the movies without popcorn. It’s sacrilegious.
OLD WOMAN: Well, at least we got the senior discount.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
The Elevator
Jerry Milligan entered the vacant elevator and pushed the “down” button as the doors swooshed shut. Thank God it was empty. He wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. Especially today.
His meeting with Vincenzo hadn’t gone well. Jerry had borrowed some money from Mr. “V” to pay off a gambling debt. Four thousand dollars to be exact. “Borrowed” wasn’t really the right word…it was more of a “loan.” A loan with strings attached.
Jerry figured he could pay it back after Saturday’s horse race. He had gotten a tip that Placebo’s Dream was a shoo-in to place in the third. Well, Placebo’s Dream became Jerry’s nightmare. The horse didn’t keep up his end of the bargain and now Jerry had to ask Vincenzo for more time.
Alone in the elevator, Jerry recalled what had transpired just moments before in Vincenzo’s suite on the 19th floor. As Jerry offered his explanation in a calm, albeit panic-stricken manner, Vincenzo sat quietly in an oversized plush chair, his fat round belly extended to his knees. A Buddha statue in an Armani suit. Cigar smoke swirled around his head and his beady snake-eyes never blinked.
Vincenzo’s silence made Jerry even more nervous and he just kept rambling. Finally, the fat man spoke. “Good day, Mr. Milligan. You may leave now.”Jerry started to speak again, but changed his mind as Vincenzo pointed toward the door with a stubby, ruby-ringed finger. He left the room in a hurry and figured he was getting off easy. If Vincenzo was going to kill him, he wouldn’t have let him go, right? He would have called in one of his goons to escort him into another room where they would “discuss” the situation. A friendly little meeting that might involve brass knuckles, a blowtorch, blenders, bullets, boards, bed knobs, broomsticks … or any number of torture devises that begin with the letter “B” and end with Jerry bleeding all over his Birkenstocks.
Jerry had vowed to quit gambling over and over again, but every attempt had failed. The longest he had gone without playing the horses was six weeks … the worst six weeks in his life. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He got headaches and night sweats. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and went to the track. Standing at the betting window and sliding his cash to the clerk, he salivated like a beagle in a meat market. That was when he realized the truth about himself … he was a compulsive gambler, and he always would be.
Consequently, his gaming lifestyle put him the company of some pretty shady characters. Guys like Vincenzo who hung around casinos and racetracks, using their “patsy” radar to zero in on poor suckers who lost all their dough and needed some quick cash for a sure thing. Jerry didn’t like dealing with those bums. But two weeks ago, he had run into some bad luck at the track and Vincenzo was more than happy to help out.
Jerry’s worrisome thoughts were interrupted as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. A man walked in wearing a black suit, his long hair tied in a ponytail. He was well over six feet tall and looked like he could lift a Buick with one hand and not even break a sweat. Jerry caught a glimpse of a gold front tooth as the man glanced his way.
The man positioned himself in the middle of the elevator, arms folded, looking at the numbers above the door. Jerry retreated to the corner. The only sound was Jerry’s raspy breathing and the muffled swoosh as the elevator made its descent. The piercing sound of a cell phone shattered the silence. Mr. Ponytail flipped open the phone and spoke with a pronounced lisp: “Yeah...I’ll take care of it, bosth…don’t worry…I’m on my way.”
Jerry tried to keep from wetting his pants. This was Vincenzo’s goon sent to give him the “business.” But did he know that Jerry was in the elevator just an arm’s length away? Mr. Ponytail seemed oblivious. Of course, he could just be pretending, acting like everything was kosher. And then when they got outside…a shiny black sedan and a couple of gorillas ready to shove him into the backseat for a ride “downtown.”
But maybe the man didn’t know it was Jerry. Maybe Vincenzo gave orders to nab Jerry at his apartment. Yeah, that had to be it. Hope flinched in Jerry’s gut as he planned his escape. As soon as the doors opened, he’d make a run for it. He figured he could out-run the goon, if it came to that. But what if Mr. Ponytail pulled a gun and started shooting?
Jerry couldn’t think that far ahead. He had to get out of here! His eyes focused on the doors and sweat broke out on his forehead. His tongue swirled around his dry lips in anticipation. Suddenly, the elevator lurched to a complete stop, slamming Jerry and the man against the rear wall. The lights near the doors lit up like the control panel in a nuclear power plant at melt down. Jerry’s fingers shook as he randomly pushed the buttons, but nothing happened.
Jerry looked at the man and stammered, “I…I think the elevator is stuck!”
“Don’t worry, Misther Milligan,” the man replied. “You’ll be on your way down in no time.” He smiled at Jerry and his gold tooth glimmered in the fluorescent light.
His meeting with Vincenzo hadn’t gone well. Jerry had borrowed some money from Mr. “V” to pay off a gambling debt. Four thousand dollars to be exact. “Borrowed” wasn’t really the right word…it was more of a “loan.” A loan with strings attached.
Jerry figured he could pay it back after Saturday’s horse race. He had gotten a tip that Placebo’s Dream was a shoo-in to place in the third. Well, Placebo’s Dream became Jerry’s nightmare. The horse didn’t keep up his end of the bargain and now Jerry had to ask Vincenzo for more time.
Alone in the elevator, Jerry recalled what had transpired just moments before in Vincenzo’s suite on the 19th floor. As Jerry offered his explanation in a calm, albeit panic-stricken manner, Vincenzo sat quietly in an oversized plush chair, his fat round belly extended to his knees. A Buddha statue in an Armani suit. Cigar smoke swirled around his head and his beady snake-eyes never blinked.
Vincenzo’s silence made Jerry even more nervous and he just kept rambling. Finally, the fat man spoke. “Good day, Mr. Milligan. You may leave now.”Jerry started to speak again, but changed his mind as Vincenzo pointed toward the door with a stubby, ruby-ringed finger. He left the room in a hurry and figured he was getting off easy. If Vincenzo was going to kill him, he wouldn’t have let him go, right? He would have called in one of his goons to escort him into another room where they would “discuss” the situation. A friendly little meeting that might involve brass knuckles, a blowtorch, blenders, bullets, boards, bed knobs, broomsticks … or any number of torture devises that begin with the letter “B” and end with Jerry bleeding all over his Birkenstocks.
Jerry had vowed to quit gambling over and over again, but every attempt had failed. The longest he had gone without playing the horses was six weeks … the worst six weeks in his life. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He got headaches and night sweats. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and went to the track. Standing at the betting window and sliding his cash to the clerk, he salivated like a beagle in a meat market. That was when he realized the truth about himself … he was a compulsive gambler, and he always would be.
Consequently, his gaming lifestyle put him the company of some pretty shady characters. Guys like Vincenzo who hung around casinos and racetracks, using their “patsy” radar to zero in on poor suckers who lost all their dough and needed some quick cash for a sure thing. Jerry didn’t like dealing with those bums. But two weeks ago, he had run into some bad luck at the track and Vincenzo was more than happy to help out.
Jerry’s worrisome thoughts were interrupted as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. A man walked in wearing a black suit, his long hair tied in a ponytail. He was well over six feet tall and looked like he could lift a Buick with one hand and not even break a sweat. Jerry caught a glimpse of a gold front tooth as the man glanced his way.
The man positioned himself in the middle of the elevator, arms folded, looking at the numbers above the door. Jerry retreated to the corner. The only sound was Jerry’s raspy breathing and the muffled swoosh as the elevator made its descent. The piercing sound of a cell phone shattered the silence. Mr. Ponytail flipped open the phone and spoke with a pronounced lisp: “Yeah...I’ll take care of it, bosth…don’t worry…I’m on my way.”
Jerry tried to keep from wetting his pants. This was Vincenzo’s goon sent to give him the “business.” But did he know that Jerry was in the elevator just an arm’s length away? Mr. Ponytail seemed oblivious. Of course, he could just be pretending, acting like everything was kosher. And then when they got outside…a shiny black sedan and a couple of gorillas ready to shove him into the backseat for a ride “downtown.”
But maybe the man didn’t know it was Jerry. Maybe Vincenzo gave orders to nab Jerry at his apartment. Yeah, that had to be it. Hope flinched in Jerry’s gut as he planned his escape. As soon as the doors opened, he’d make a run for it. He figured he could out-run the goon, if it came to that. But what if Mr. Ponytail pulled a gun and started shooting?
Jerry couldn’t think that far ahead. He had to get out of here! His eyes focused on the doors and sweat broke out on his forehead. His tongue swirled around his dry lips in anticipation. Suddenly, the elevator lurched to a complete stop, slamming Jerry and the man against the rear wall. The lights near the doors lit up like the control panel in a nuclear power plant at melt down. Jerry’s fingers shook as he randomly pushed the buttons, but nothing happened.
Jerry looked at the man and stammered, “I…I think the elevator is stuck!”
“Don’t worry, Misther Milligan,” the man replied. “You’ll be on your way down in no time.” He smiled at Jerry and his gold tooth glimmered in the fluorescent light.
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