Friday Photo #14 

in which this should be blank 

Okay, so I intended to post the following statement today:

"Friday Photo #14: in which I ignore the whole Friday the 13th thing" 

That's it. Nothing more. 

I'd like to say it was because I didn't want to acknowledge the day or some other such piece of bull, but the sad, honest truth is I really didn't have any decent photo in mind to show and I meant to scan some pix I had stashed here and there but didn't get around to and I was just too lazy today to complete anything.

You: But... there's a photo at the top of this post.

Me: Very observant, grasshopper.

You: What gives?

Me: Serendipity.

You: ...Why do you have to be such a pompous asshat?

Me: Hey, hey... there's no need for name calling.

You: Just finish the story... and make it quick. I've got dinner on the stove.

Me: Alright! Jeez.. Don't get your knickers in a twist, Chippie. Have another cocktail, why don't ya. 

So I was driving back from another highly entertaining lunch with my gal pals from the Special K, when I got stopped in traffic on this bridge and saw this through my windshield. I thought it was really cool. And that is why there's a photo today. 

(P.S.: I think there really is something to this whole, scary Friday the 13th thing... First a pipe burst at the doctor's office, I couldn't get an online registration to go through and now Mr. Blogger.com is unable to save my crap. What up, Universe?)

Auntie Em! Auntie Em! 

or where the f*ck are we, anyway? 

Holy CRAP!!?!

For the last 14 hours we've been having ginormous winds gusting up to ... 92 mph!?! 

92 freaking miles per hour, people. That is like Wizard of flippin' Oz winds! It's so wicked outside today, our county even got a shout out on the NPR top of the hour news report. And there is no sign of any of it letting up any time soon. 

What the eff?!? Did we astrally project to flatter-than-W's-brain-wave Kansas while we slept peacefully unaware. 

The winds were so powerful, I think my Peter Pan hair stretched at least a half inch. No shit. Okay...maybe not, but you get the idea. There was actually a point today in my travels when I could barely open my car door to move rogue trash cans from the middle of the road. Oh and that's another thing... why are people so afraid to pull over and move a big, effin trash can from their lane? It takes like, two minutes. No, they'd rather speed and swerve around it. People kill me. Whatever. Sometimes I feel like the Cosmos' Mom.

On a different note... my missing shoe was delivered TODAY. Wow! Girlfriends, you need to patronize Clarks. Those people are on the ball. 

Well, here's hoping we're all still on the ground tonight. I mean, come on. It's Thursday night. I gotta watch 30 Rock. 

All Hail The Thaw Gods!!  

or what a difference a week makes 

Okay, so today is a banner day, Man! The wonderful winter Thaw Gods have smiled upon us to change the scenery from this

to this. 

Thanks, Dudes! You really did my attitude a solid. Not only are the nasty piles of dirt-encrusted, ice pyramids a distant memory, the temperature is a beautifully, balmy 67 degrees... with sunshine!!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!! 

God bless February. There always seem to be a few days in this littlest of months which are warm, breezy reminders of what is waiting around the corner. A little rejuvenator of the spirit. And as those of you who have read my postings from December and January are painstakingly aware (thanks for your patience by the way)... I really, really needed this attitude adjuster. I mean, seriously. I couldn't even stand myself. All the bitching and grousing... Oy! 

And just when I thought the day couldn't get any better... a box was waiting on my doorstep when I arrived home. Not just any box. A Clarks shoe box!!!! 

Are you kidding me!!??!! Sunshine AND new kick-ass, incredibly comfortable, on sale Clarks shoes!! The day could not possibly get any better. They are a thing of beauty. Can I get an Amen from my fellow shoe-lovin' sisters.

But wait... what the? One... Two... Three... Hey! Where the eff is my other shoe? 

If it was any other shoe company I'd be pissed, but it's Clarks. Their service is great. One quick call and the entire matter is sorted out. The rogue shoe has been rounded up and is on its way. 

What a great day!

Friday Photo #13 

this is going to sound weird, but ...

I like cemeteries. They're really quiet and contemplative. Plus they're full of history... personal history. There's this great old cemetery two blocks away from us which contains some wonderfully weathered tombstones dating as far back as the early 1800s. 

The historical significance is worth the trip alone, but what fascinates me most are the tokens loved ones leave behind in a desperate attempt to cling to the memory of those lost.

Many are adorned with traditional statuary of saints, Jesus or Mary, but there are a lot of unorthodox, more personal items lovingly placed on these grave sites. Things like gnomes riding frogs, pinwheels, bunnies and squirrels, sea shells, baseball caps, even a small concrete ducks dressed in season-appropriate attire. At a relatively new grave there was a sad, picnic tableau complete with Weber grill, empty beer cans and burned out bottle rocket remains. 

But by far the most crushing scene in the entire cemetery was a large, brightly painted Tonka Truck atop an enormous headstone lined with a child's trinkets, lovingly left by his parents whose shattered hearts will never be whole again...even if they live to be one hundred years old. 

You know one of these days I'm going to get my act together and make a photo book out of these shots titled "Tokens". It seems somehow disrespectful to just leave these photos lingering on my desktop. 

More Bits And Pieces  

or cleaning out my mind's attic...

As  noted in the prior posting, my muse hit the highway some time last week and all I got was this lousy t-shirt. (www.nataliedee.com)

So I figured I'd just toss a bunch of random mental trash on the junk heap. 

1. As if you didn't know, the Steelers won the Super Bowl lasts Sunday. Pittsburgh celebrated with a "Salute to the Champions" parade on Tuesday. 350,000+ Steelers Nation faithful lined the Boulevard to cheer and revel in the glory of our unprecedented sixth title. Some of the players stepped off their cars and walked the parade route. One went one step further...

Yes, Troy Polamalu treated his rabid fans with a repeat of his crowd dive from 2005. You can see a much cleaner, professional video from a rival TV station here. Can you say "crowd pleaser"?

2. So apparently an Arizona newspaper reporter has been bad mouthing Steelers fans. He was saying crap like we're just a bunch of rude, ignorant rubes who are loud and ill-mannered. WaWaWa...sore loser. Does this cat not know there is an entire NATION of Steelers fans around the country and the world...even in Phoenix?!? What a douche. Perhaps he and the other Cardinals fans should remove the stick from their collective butts and learn how to have some good, old-fashioned, blue collar fun. Bottom line is they can say anything they want. The fact remains we have six Lombardi trophies AND Troy Polamalu stage diving. In the words of Tina Fey... he can just suck it.

3. Okay, so remember my "wiener of the week" posting from January 28th wherein I spoke of a co-worker's anxiety over what was prowling around in her new beau's pantaloons? No? Well you can read it here, then come back.... I'll wait.....

(whistling Jeopardy theme....) 

Done, okay. So last night we were at a wine tasting with one of our favorite couples. Afterwards we were at a bar when I told my girlfriend Kels about my wiener posting. Well... she has her own horrendous hambone horror story. 

Get this!! She once dated a guy who had one ball ... and two holes.

I repeat... Two. Holes.

The one ball thing is no big deal, but he had TWO HOLES. 

I mean, come on. That just brings up all kinds of questions.... what happened to his other nard... what's with the two holes... seriously, does like .. pee come flying out in two different directions?  How the hell does one end up with two holes in his schlong? A Prince Albert piercing gone horribly wrong? A shaky Mohel at a Bris? A bizarre bicycle accident? (seriously...who's bright idea was it to make boys bikes with that scrotum crushing bar, anyway?)  What could possibly have happened to this dude to turn his tube steak into a meat whistle.

Of course, she was so stunned (and much more of a lady than I) she never talked to him about it, thereby denying we twisted and curious from obtaining the (w)hole story. Sorry. had to do it. Oh well. Maybe it's more fun to ponder anyway. 

4. I haven't obsessed about the king of all my things lately, so here's a video just for me... because it's MY blog, dammit!! 

One of the best parts of Rhett's solo shows is his storytelling and banter with the audience. This is classic. And, no... they won't play at your wedding... unless you have lots and lots of money to throw their way. 

Hmmmmm... note to self... if we ever win the lottery... restring all your guitars and pack up all your stuff, boys. You're playing at my house!

In Which I Admit I Suck At This Blogging Thang Lately  

Mea Culpa

I don't know what's up, but lately I've been really scattered. I can't seem to focus on something...anything entertaining to write about. My muse has apparently motored south for the winter, to bask in the glory of the warm sun and sip Mojitos poolside in that skimpy little leopard bikini that used to look so hot on me until, you know, excess stuff started settling in around my mid-section, but of course it still looks fantastic on her because she's a freaking "muse" and therefore immune to getting fat or cottage cheesey in all the wrong places (not that there are any places on one's body in which being cottage cheesey is acceptable). But is she happy with merely mocking me by looking uber sexy in my own bathing suit... No!! She has to rub it in by sending postcards of her antics with young, muscular pool boys named Sven and Gunther. AND if that's not bad enough, she stabs my very heart by getting my one, true, fantasy love, Rhett Miller to kiss her!?

Stupid little skank. Do you see how she taunts me? I miss you, Muse. Please come back.

Playing the MeMe Google Game 

or like you need more help wasting time on the internet   

Okay, so you probably know about this game already. The idea is you Google your name followed by a verb, hit enter and hilarity ensues. 

Of course I stole .. er.. borrowed this idea from John and Hank Green... who probably stumbled on it from someone else... who heard someone mention it at a soiree... who saw it on one of those hip 'n happenin' trendy websites... who ran into Kyra Sedgewick at a Hollywood shindig... who is married to, none other than, Kevin Bacon. Thus completing the mystical circle of six degrees of Kevin Bacon. 

Okay, not really. John really stole it from Facebook... who probably stumbled on it from someone else... who heard someone mention it at a blah blah blah... who yadda yadda yadda... Jane!! Stop this crazy thing!?!  

You have to try this. Here's mine:

Murray likes...to socialize and will use any excuse to celebrate with friends. (very true)

Apparently Murray also like apples, Iggy Pop and to flirt obviously. Or is it flirt, obviously? (Well... obviously. Duh.)

Murray wants... a Zombie picture!!! (sure, why not) Also Murray wants you to hang up your coat on Phil Cuttance's trophy hangers (not the wire hangers, you neanderthal), AND Murray wants to get married in the nude. (little chilly in February)

Murray loves... to deck out the place with streamers (because it's FAB-U-Lous!!!)

Murray hates... Bruce, and Bruce barely notices!  (*sob* selfish bastard!)

Murray lives... with her three children and sings with a swing band for fun! (scattin' her kids to sleep)

Murray says... I could lose myself in his eyes and his smile. (Aaaah)

Murray asks... to show her drawing, but there is no time left. Then out of nowhere, Murray asks for Kate's badge then pulls a gun!?! (she's quite mad, you know)

Murray wears... a vampire-chic waistcoat and climbs around on a jungle gym to the Eurythmics' "Would I Lie to You". (now that sounds about right)

You can go on and on and on, typing verb after verb, providing hours of entertainment. But trust me. Do NOT type "Eats". Lots of nasty, nasty stuff appears. Or maybe that's just with my name. 

Wait a minute... when I use Geo's name, the foulest things to appear is he eats babies, Twinkies from the garbage and old grey rats while painting houses yellow. 

What the?!? 

Damn! There's some uber slutty chick with my humble moniker. Eeeewwwwwww! That ain't right. Get your own name, Hootch.