I've been SPAMMED

Ok, it happens. Happens a lot actually but thought this one was actually funny. I have had AOL for years and am not new to receiving emails saying they are contacting me from AOL to assist with any email issues I may have....the kicker of course is that they aren't letters from AOL but hackers/spammers/asshats who have nothing better to do than send out thousands of emails to people in hopes someone will be dumb enough to fall for the shit.

Anyway, I was deleting my 2000 some emails (mostly junk) and found this little gem.....8 times. So here are a couple screen shots with some minor additions courtesy of me.....

So, I was a bad AOL Spammer victim and didn't reply with any of the info they needed from me. I should be very ashamed. Wonder if they will send me a horribly worded/edited email berating me for my inconsideration.

Oh yeah, the email listed after this one said that I could show off my wine collection with the perfect rack.

My mental picture was that of a woman with red wine stains running down the front of her shirt. Is that wrong?

Pizza or Asian Hookers

For the last year my friend, BooBooKitty, and I have been eye-spying this "Coming Soon" pizza joint in our smallish city. For reals. It has taken the owners the better part of a year to remodel and open up.

 Being night owls BooBooKitty and I often would drive past to see if they were open or not and we always saw activity inside. At 4am. Seriously, they were "remodeling" at 4am. Allegedly.

It was one of those 4am drive-bys when BooBooKitty asked exactly how long does it takes someone to turn a run down pet store into a pizza place because he didn't think they were really in the pizza business.

This should be disturbing on several levels. Truth be told I was only concerned that all reptilian bodies were long gone before any form of tomato product was brought in. Thinking ahead I was terrified of ordering a pizza in the future and having snake pieces on it.

Reptile issues aside we figured they should have had it completed at least 6 months ago and they must be up to something nefarious. At which time we put our heads together and came up with a short list of things they must be doing instead of fixing up the joint so they could make BooBooKitty a fucking pizza. BooBooKitty is all about the pizza and gets a little irritable when unable to get his fix.

Our list was really short. It actually only had one thing on it because we really aren't creative people and really  are naive when it comes to nefariousness. So we decided that the "Coming Soon" pizza joint was just a front for Asian Hookers.

When that bright idea came to us we no longer had to think of other options. We totally knew it was Asian Hookers and just went with it.

So BooBooKitty said "Why don't you ask your mom about it? She still works across the street right?"

And I'm all like, "Shut the fuck up! My mom's not a hooker!"

At which BooBooKitty rolled his eyes and asked if I suffered a brain injury in my youth.

We did end up asking my mom if she noticed an Asian Hookers sneaking out the back door over there which she never answered. She just gave me that mom look that says "You are on my last nerve."

I see that a lot.

So, for months we drove past looking for the place to be either open or see some guy stumble out the door with a Happy Endings look on his face but we never did (those Asian Hookers are sly let me tell you). What we did see though on a couple of occasions was someone carrying a baby into the supposed pizzeria (at 4am). Which seems like a Hooker thing to do Right? But not necessarily a terrible thing, after all, spending time with your children is a good thing. Bringing your baby to Hook might just be a bonding experience for them.

So last night we went for the first time to the now open pizza place. It was rather anti-climactic. I didn't see even one Asian in the entire place. When we asked where they kept them they acted like they had no clue what we were talking about. I suspect we just didn't know the right Asian Hooker Code Word.

On the upside the pizza was good.

Online Dating Tip #1

Having been single now for a little more than a few years I thought maybe I would try some online dating. What I am actually trying is not to laugh at some of the things I see on some of the sites. This is Before any actual dating by the way.

I thought maybe I should document some of my findings. Kind of a What The Hell Were You Thinking? online dating tips.

First of all I have to say that I have yet to jump into the Online Dating Pool completely. I am more toe dunking. Just testing the waters so to speak. So, I have yet to actually go on a date. I think my problem is the weirdness I keep coming across when checking my messages and looking at profiles.

Ok, so let's get going on this.....

#1 Your Profile Picture.
Yes it is important to have one. Yes we are a superficial society and we judge by looks. It isn't right. We've been taught to judge what's on the inside. Frankly all that is on the inside is pus and blood so we go with what we can see first. It's the human way to do things. Especially when viewing Online Dating Profiles. Yes we all want to find that sensitive HeMan who will spout poetry to you and kill the spiders that invade your home but he better have a decent Profile Picture because that is what you are going to look at first before you read what the profile says.

This is an example of what not to have as your profile picture. I'm going out on a limb here but for the most part women are not looking for a hairy gun toting, guitar hero playing mostly naked man.  For that matter I don't know of any gay men who would be willing to wax this before tappin' it either.

 Now this is a hot profile picture. But don't fall for this one either people. This man does not exist on any online dating site. This is Hugh Jackman. If a man's profile picture looks like this, trust me, he probably has webbed toes and a third nipple.

Another Profile Don't. Capturing yourself sitting next to a pile of laundry wearing stained sweat pants and a dress shirt is also not a way to meet quality people.

Ok, well that was fun for me. Hope it was for you too. Next time I'm going to discuss the ever important profile. Mostly I am just going to list some shit I found on people's profiles and laugh at it. Should be a good time.

Do I take Risks? You know it baby!

Over at Studio Thirty+ the writing prompt of the week is Risk. I wasn't sure if I would participate or not. I mean I haven't participated so far even though I technically have been a member since the beginning of the year. Besides, I never take any kind of risks. Seriously. At least that is what I thought. I had to do a little brain storming about my risks, or lack there of, and realized I'm lucky to be alive. For reals. I should have bit the big one ages ago.

So for your reading enjoyment I bring you.....

Christina Vs. The Time Clock

Oh, sure. You may scoff. Time Clock Schmime Clock. What kind of risky behavior is that? Let me tell you. I play chicken with the time clock every single work day.

My day pretty much starts out the same everysingleday. I set my first alarm for 2 hours before I need to get up because I have somehow convinced myself that if I set it 2 hours before and wake up knowing I will have another two hours of sleep my brain and body will be eternally grateful for the psych out and reap the benefits of an additional 120 minutes of zzzzzzzs.

My second alarm goes off at noon. WTF? Noon? Don'tjudgeme I work nights and have insomnia. Are those violins I hear playing in the background? Whatever.

Anyway, my second alarm goes off at noon which I turn off and then it starts getting interesting and surprisingly enough mirrors the 5 stages of grief.

As I was saying, at noon, my second alarm goes off and I'm all "WTF? Is it really that time again? It can't be. I just went to bed." That's right y'all DENIAL.

Next comes Anger! "OHFORFUCKSAKES! Just another half a fucking hour! That's all I need. Fucking Black Eyed Peas and their I Just Can't Get Enough waking me the fuck up!" Yes, that's right ladies and well, ladies since I don't have any men following my little ol' blog, I swear a whole lot when I wake up.

So then I'm like, "Just another 15 minutes and I'll be good to go." which actually gets said 2 additional times. That's right, Fergie and the rest of the gang gets cussed out at noon, 12:15 and then again at 12:30. Don't worry about, they have thick skin and can take it. So if you aren't keeping track this is the Bargaining stage.

STAGES 4 AND 5: Depression and Resignation....At 12:45 I may or may not start crying. OK, mostly I do whine a lot and throw in a few tears in case someone is watching. I'm also resigned to the fact that I have to get up and get ready for work. I do not like it and think everyday that I should start my day off with a shot of Tequila with a Vodka chaser but I don't (not before I brush my teeth for sure....morning breath really ruins a good alcohol wake up call.)

So far I haven't outline much in the Risk department. I have outlined that I curse a lot, have questionable taste in music and could possibly be a future alcoholic, but wait there's more.....

Once I get out of bed I have 40 minutes to....

• Use the restroom (nothing like that first pee of the day)
• Make my lunch to take to work
• Iron my clothes (just because I'm lazy doesn't mean I have to be wrinkled)
• Shower
• Dress (in wrinkleless clothes)
• Make myself up the best I can (somedays I really could use some Bondo but just don't have time to sand it properly so I work with what I have)

Still not risky huh?

Next I tend to have 18 or 19 minutes to drive from my house to work and punch in. This is where the risk comes in. I'm usually a good driver. I never complain about the way I drive anyway so I must be better than average. For real. I complain about everything.

But anyway, something happens to me when I get behind the wheel when I am fixated on something. Especially when that something is beating the time clock. I honk obnoxiously at little children. I scream at old people with walkers. I tailgate anyone who happens to be in front of me. I flip off the short bus for no apparent reason as I pass them. It isn't pretty. I should be ashamed. I'm not though. Because this method makes me feel better about having to get the fuck out of bed and toe the line for the Man! Power to the People!

Oh so where was I? Oh yes. The drive to work. It can be scary and I would recommend that if you are in the area between 1:45pm and 2pm you just stay off the roads. But if you don't and happen to hear someone calling you an AssHat just ignore the crazy woman. She won't hurt you.....much.

Just so you know I drive to work going 75mph in a 55. It's totally true that if I go that fast on that stretch of highway which happens to only be 3 miles long I will get to work several minutes faster. Ok not really because mathematically speaking if you go 55 it takes approx. 3.3 minutes but if you go 75 it takes about 2.4 minutes which means I don't actually shave off even a minute by risking life, limb and moving violations but whatever, mind over matter people!

Next is finding a parking spot. The casino that I work at employs maybe 800 people. At 2pm I swear that Every. Single. Employee. Is. There. Taking up every single fucking parking spot worth anything. The only ones left are the 6 handicapped spaces and the one compact car spot that has nesting pigeons, um nesting over it. What's a girl to do? Park in the handicapped? Fuck no! That pisses me the fuck off (along with women who use the handicapped stall in public restrooms because they think their fat asses need breathing room. From one fat ass to another...leave that stall for those who really need it! Sorry went on a little tangent.)

So, I risk the paint of my little blue Nissan, run into the building, down 3 flights of stairs, up the long long long employee hallway only to see this....

Satan (aka people who want my money) strikes again

So, it's been a bit of a bitch of a day. Sleep was interrupted by Sis who asked me to watch Lil' Princess so she could run and get the rest of the fam lunch. Never mind that it was noon (in my defense I don't fall asleep until 6am or later.) Then off I go to pick up my nephew (who would rather flip me the bird than say hi to me) from school only to get a phone call from him when I am a few blocks away telling me he was going to get a ride with his friend's grandpa. Thank goodness he actually did listen to me when I told him he better not even put one butt cheek into Bud's station wagon or I would download nothing but Barney onto his PSP-Go. Honestly, the fact that he listened to me is amazing because he really doesn't. Perhaps the threat of a Giant Purple Annoying Dinosaur is even enough for a 14 year old. I know it terrifies me.

My car is taking a serious crap. Ok. Not so serious. It still, mostly, starts the first try and isn't leaking anything important. I do, however, need new back breaks, have no shocks/struts to speak of, and I have something hanging down behind my drivers back tire area that scrapes at least four times every time I go over a bump (no shocks/struts remember?)

My dad was admitted into the hospital tonight because of an ongoing leg issue that has not healed for 6 months. That is another rant waiting to happen too by the way but not the topic of this post.

So, while I am sitting in my dad's hospital room helping the nurse with my dad's health history because after two shots for pain he was pretty out of it but was looking forward to the dancing girls who were scheduled to arrive at 8pm, I get a phone call from Satan (again).

After listening to an automated computer bitch telling me that I have an important call from Satan's Medical Clinic and that I should patiently hold while she connects the call unless I wasn't who I say I am then I should tell the real me to contact Satan's Medical Clinic at my convenience. Since I am who I say I am today and the real me did in fact answer my cell phone I held while the 2011 version of the new H.A.L connected me to Satan himself. Strangely enough Satan in now going by the alias Chris and sounds like he is from India. But then since all customer service representatives sound like they are from India no matter which company you call this doesn't really surprise me. You can never get help when you call those help desk numbers so it does logically connect that Satan is behind this....anyway, this is my phone call with Satan.....

Satan: Is this The Pretty Pretty Princess?

Me: Yes it.

Satan: Ma'am {it's heartwarming to know that Satan remembers my pet name...see Satan's First Phone Call} I'm calling about your outstanding bill to Satan's Medical Clinic. Your insurance paid most of the bill it looks like but you still owe one left nut. How will you be paying this tonight?

Me: Are you kidding me?

Satan: We {within the pits of Hell} don't kid.

Me: Really? What about Carson Daly?

Satan: At this time we {the makers of Murder, Mayhem and Liquid Ass Fart Spray} cannot comment about that. Now about this bill...

Me: You mean the bill that I received in the mail today...the first bill I have received from you period...the bill that is only for $83.92 and not for either the left nor the right testicle? Look I don't even have balls!

Satan: Yes Ma'am, if you cannot pay up the left nut at this time may I recommend our easy financial assistance program. We {at the human BBQ pit of eternity} have been very pleased with the progression of this program and do encourage all our clients to utilize this service....um....once.

(Satan then laughed in what probably should have been an evil laugh but sounded more like This)

Me: You know, I'll just take care of this tomorrow. Please don't call me again.

Satan: Um ok good, but are you sure you don't want to check out our financial assistance program?

Me: I'd rather not go down that road at this time...why don't you catch me later in life when I may hook up with a new aged cannibalistic cult bent on eating prebirth babies for breakfast.

Satan: Do you have an address for the leader of that cult?

Me: Um...no...I haven't met him yet but...um...I hear the word on the street is that...um...if any baby eating is going to go down China is the place to look.

Satan: Hmmmmm a form of population control maybe? I like it! So, I'll talk to you soon. Thank you for your time Ma'am. {that Satan, always has to get the last insult in every time.}
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On a higher note while random clicking on youtube I stumbled upon The Annoying Orange and it made me smile. So I leave the Orange with you and maybe it will make you smile too.

1 Friday Night + 2 Old Bitches = WTF Random Shit

I'm old. Seriously. I don't know when it happened but one day I realized I am totally ancient because I work with people I could have given birth to (had a been a slutty 7th grader) and to top it all off I'd totally go Mrs. Robinson with because young men today are getting hotter. Double Seriously. So I'm old and a little creepy.




Want some candy little boy?

 What that has to do with Friday night I have no idea but it does clue you in on at least one of the old bitches from my title. The other one would be my younger sister. Younger by less than two years so she totally qualifies as an old bitch too but I don't think she could be the subject of an old Simon and Garfunkel song because she works at Walmart and they don't hire hotties (or people with teeth.)

So, what do two old, single women do on a Friday night?  We go see the movie Hall Pass which I thought was super funny by the way then go home only to sit outside the house in the car playing name that tune on the iPod. Not only are we old, we are really loosery too. Oh yeah, we were home by 10:30pm too.

What happened to me? I used to be semi-cool and stayed out at least until midnight. Now I'm a thirtysomething homebody that spends my time searching for random shit on google. By the way, when you google "Random Shit" you end up with this website RandomShit where you click the big black button (that turns red)and some random shit pulls up on the site. My first attempt at it brought up an interesting advertisement poster that was in the design of 1940ish military that warned that the weight of history in book form can be a bad thing and to avoid injury you should give your books to the book burning cause. Which is really weird because I just had a conversation about book burning earlier tonight. 

My second click at Randomshit.com resulted in seeing a totally fucked up map of the world called "The World According to San Francisco" which is seriously fucking hilarious. You can't get back to anything you find on random even if you copy and paste the URL because you will end up at yet another random shit place but I found the map itself here ------ The World According to San Francisco I spent over half an hour staring at that map. I particularly like that Canada is called America's Hat, Mexico is called Better Burritos, and most of South America is called Cocaine.

And so my younger hipper friends I leave you with a cool Random site, an interesting if not politically incorrect map and this.....




And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson,



Jesus loves you more than you will know.


God bless you, please Mrs. Robinson.


Heaven holds a place for those who pray,


Hey, hey, hey

Bill Collectors...or maybe Satan

So, yes, occasionally I do get behind on certain bills. It happens. It's a guarantee of life. You know sometime during your life you will be guaranteed to.....

A) Buy something from Walmart because it looks like an Uh-Mayzing item that you can't live without only to realize once you get home you already have one that you've had for months still in it's packaging.
B) Start your period with no emergency tampons (you know the kind that have been running around in the bottom of your purse for so long the wrapper fell off awhile back but you never noticed) because you used your last emergency one a week ago for a fucking false start.
C) Miss a payment for a bill that you happen to owe to a company that believes calling as often as the law allows everyday is the best way to conduct their business.

A and B do happen and have happened but most recently it was C that annoyed the hell out of me.

The other night while sitting down with the fam for a late meal the company that holds my car note was nice enough to call me and remind me that to avoid late charges I should pay my bill. This is how the conversation went....

Me: {while chewing rather obnoxiously on some taco bell mystery meat} Hello?

Satan: Yes, is this The Pretty Pretty Princess? {ok Satan really didn't call me The Pretty Pretty Princess but it's my story and tonight that is who I want to be}

Me: Yes it is.

Satan: Ma'am {calling me Ma'am is certainly the way to get in my good graces....not so much} I'm just calling tonight because your payment for an arm and a leg was due on Saturday and we {within the pits of Hell} have yet to receive it. Is this a good time?

Me: I'm in the middle of dinner. My payment was due on Saturday?

Satan: Yes on Saturday.

Me: It's Thursday. I'm not even out of the 10 day grace period why are you calling me when it is only 5 days late.

Satan: Ma'am {because I reeeeeeeally love being called Ma'am the ruler of the underworld continues to use it} we can and do start calling if your payment is one day late.

Me: Isn't that a little extreme? But anyway, didn't I recently send a big toe in?

Satan: Yes Ma'am, we received the big toe last month but now the arm and the leg are due. How will you be making your payment tonight?

Me: Well, I'd make it over the phone but you charge me an outrageous fee to do that so I will make my payment online tomorrow.

Satan: I see. So you will go to the website and make your payment for one leg and one arm? {didn't realize hell was so high tech but I suppose that even the Prince of Darkness needs Facebook}

Me: No, I'm going to go to my bank website and do a bill pay.

Satan: Well, Ma'am.....if you do it that way I cannot update the account because there won't be a conformation number to add to your account.

Me: And?

Satan: I cannot stop the phone calls until I have a confirmation number in the system.

Me: Fine what are my options? Can you waive the over the phone payment fee?

Satan: I don't have that authority. {I bet only Mrs. Satan has that kind of pull}

Me: Well I don't think I should pay extra just to get these phone calls to stop. What else do you suggest?

Satan: You could come in to a local branch and make a payment. {now we're talkin'}

Me: Where is the local branch?

Satan: Oh, well, that's odd...it looks like most of them have closed down within a 20 mile radius of your zip code but you are in luck there is a branch at the airport.

Me: At the AirPORT???? I don't want to pay any additional money to do this over the phone for a bill that is still in it's grace period to stop your phone calls. What makes you think I will pay for airport parking????? Never mind. I think I'll just mail in the payment instead. Talk to you tomorrow.

Satan: Have a nice night.

True Story.....mostly.

The Evils of Mexico

A few days ago MSN.com had this little gem of an article basically saying that you should not go to Mexico for spring break because you will die. Seriously, it did. Go to Mexico and Die article click and see for yourself. Or not. For those of you who are too lazy to go there I will give you the highlights.....

So, here is the header. I've outlined a couple things that I found very important while reading this message. First: You should Avoid Mexico...got it. Second: If You don't go You will miss out on something Marvelous....dammit even death cannot stop the tempting tease of Tijuana.

Next is part of the article that I also found educational....

So, if You stay out of Mexico You will not die during the biggest alcohol consumption party-gras (did you know that Spring Break coincides with Mardi gras this year?) of your young life. Oh and this public service announcement was brought to us due to the unfortunate demise of 2 people in or around Mexico over the past 5 months.

I think what I appreciated most about this warning was the fantabulous photos that were attached to the bottom of the article displaying the dregs of humanity south of the border.....By the way, the captions are their own....True Story.

Azure Cortez

Tempting Tulum

Cool Cancun



Mexico Magic



Luxury in Puerto Vallarta

Does the Almighty grade on a Bell Curve?

Not being a religious person I think it's a valid question. Even if I were more religious then not I still think it would be an excellent question to pose to the Creator during his bi-weekly meet and greets over at the Pope's House. What? There are no meet and greets in the Vatican? Not to be a Debbie Downer or anything but maybe you just haven't been invited....hey, I'm just sayin'.

So, what do you think? Do those people walking around Earth who are neither good nor evil still get to spend their eternal life shaking hands with an Apostle on Wednesday afternoons because the bar is set low or not?

Having spent a good portion of my life striving for mediocrity I really need to know what the average is when it comes to good deeds vs. bad ones. Is it 3 good ones for every single bad one? Does it matter what type of good deed? I bet it does. Not only is my eternal soul essentially dependant on that one asshat that continually blows the curve all to shit but I have to know that helping an old woman across the street is worth more than holding the door open for the disgusting guy who scratches himself and then sniffs his fingers.

So here's another question....what if I want to give in to that random impulse to shove someone down the stairs? Is it better to do a handful of good deeds before or after to ensure that I'm not complaining about the sulfur stench and the heat for the rest of my afterlife? If I do the good deeds prior to the shoving will I get marked down for it being premeditated? Or is it ok to just go ahead with the dastardly deed and then kiss ass afterwards?

On The Official Scale of Evil Deeds (I'm sure there is one somewhere) how bad is helping someone down the stairs faster than their legs can move? For that matter where does not recycling the Sunday paper or letting your friend walk around for 2 hours with her skirt tucked into her underwear fall? Perhaps not completely evil but I bet your friend won't talk to you for the rest of the day which would lead to you not knowing that your boyfriend had called while you were at lunch to say that he wasn't going to be able to make dinner that night, which is why you'll end up still hungry at 11:30 and in your car running to Taco Bell  only to be a complete bitch to the order taker who usually will tell the order maker to add some "special sauce" to your burrito but instead he says "This is Bull Shit" and runs out of the joint...jumps into his car and speeds out of the parking lot only to run over a group of pre-schoolers on their nightly meth run. Hey this shit could happen...haven't you ever seen The Butterfly Effect?

Anyhoo if anyone has any answers or if you received the invite for the next Party at the Pope's could you just ask for me? I'd really appreciate it because I would like to get started on my People that Deserve to Get Help Falling Down the Stairs list.

Perhaps I'm not cut out for foreign films....

Foreign Films. Just saying it makes my IQ raise just a couple points. No, probably not, but it should. I generally stay away from certain movies (my list is around here somewhere) and, although I should probably never admit it, Foreign Films are generally avoided.

Super narrow minded of me, I know, but it is so true.

The other night I was skipping through my Netflix queue adding random crap here and there that I will probably delete next week because, lets face it, what looks good at 3 O'clock in the morning has a tendency to not look so good when you wake up the next day (that's what she said.)

So.......I was Netflix stalking some of my favorite hotties and found that one of my Australian hotties, Alex O'Loughlin, had a movie that I could watch instantly and after reading some of the reviews (actually just one of them) I thought "Cool Beans" (because I still love the 80's) and started watching Oyster Farmer.

Going to take a short break from my movie review here to give a brief bio on Alex just in case my two followers don't have a clue who he is.

Ok I really only wanted to put pictures of him up but I suppose you should know he is currently Steve McGarrett in the new Hawaii-50, was Dr. Andy Yablonski in the short lived Three Rivers, also Mick St. John in Moonlight and Stan in The Back-Up Plan with Jennifer Lopez.

So, the review I read that intrigued me enough to try this Australian film was another Netflix member's comments....
Ahem....copied without permission from the review of aod853850-- {snip snip} "But I didnt expect a full double n*de s*x scene complete with org*sm!" {unsnip snip}

Well, after I bought a vowel from Vanna I figured out "Holy Shit! Alex is neked!" So of course I had to watch it.

So misleading....so boring!

First I have to say that I felt like a complete Tard watching this film. I would have been better off had I used subtitles. Unfortunately as I watched if from the Netflix website I am not sure I had that option and if I did I am not sure how to go about getting subtitles and Good Gravy! why the hell would I need subtitles when Australians speak English is an excellent question. I could not understand a single freaking word most of those characters said.

Strike one: An Unexpected Language Barrier

The next point I need to make is that after watching the movie for an hour and not getting to see any nakey Alex I paused the movie and read some more reviews. Many of them loved this movie and pointed out the great humor. I think maybe I might have heard something that sounded like, "A wombat, a kangaroo and a croc walk into a bar" but honestly I can't be sure. The only really funny thing I found in this movie was when the dog ate the TV remote. When he farted the channel changed.

Strike Two: A curious lack of Funny

Point number 2.5 is related to those reviews. Many of them said they learned a lot about oyster farming. I watched them farmers farming them oysters and have to just assume that was what they were doing. One scene had a couple of men cracking a stick against a crud covered pole which knocked off the crud. Another couple scenes had a man walking on some square frames that were on top of the water that might have had oysters in them. Oh, one scene had a couple men hammering at rocks (or maybe oysters, not really sure but it could go either way). My favorite farming scene was when the main oyster farmer put all his oysters in their very own swimming pool and sat there staring at them. Then went out and kicked some man in the nards screaming about how they made his oysters spew. Or it could have been that the oysters blew (once again it could go either way).

Strike Two Point Five: Oyster Farming makes no sense to a girl from Iowa

Continuing on with those random reviewers and their unsolicited opinions (can they still be unsolicited if I sought them out?)...many also said that the scenery was stunningly beautiful. Granted many of the river scenes where Jack or Pearl (yes they really named the female love interest in a movie about oysters, Pearl) were motor boating through was lovely but most of the movie took place in local homes of the farmers. These homes tended to look like run down shacks and were so dirty (like needing a good scrubbing with some Clorox dirty, not Alex has a hot naked ass dirty) that just watching made me want to go bathe. Of course I spent a lot of time staring at the movie and it's scenery because I had tuned out the sound early on which actually made me feel better not having to multitask and all. (Hey, for someone who doesn't multitask well watching a movie and  listening to it too qualifies as multitasking.)

Strike Three, Four and Five: 70 minutes into the movie still no neked Alex

I think perhaps Jack the hero of this Indie-Dramady might have been a victim of domestic abuse or maybe possessed (not by a hugely evil satanic demon but more of a minorly satanic trickster demon.) He continually had new scrapes and wounds that were never really explained which lead me to believe he must have run into a door a lot (But Doctor I swear I'm just clumsy!) and when he kissed Pearl for the first time his nose spontaneously bled (apparently it was quite a kiss.) Oh and not long into the movie you see Jack's sister patching up a blackened eye of his but we didn't know what happened. About 20 minutes later we see Jack getting into a fight with a man who punches him in the eye. AHA! Not a demonic induced injury after all. Just a demonic editor who played 52 card pickup with the film scenes.

Strike Six: You mean editing is an important job?

Finally Alex strips.  And I didn't really get to see a nakey Alex. Just a little hip, oh and one of her nipples but whatever. What I took away from that particular scene was that they stripped and then did it on a rickety old dock and all I could think was that Pearl was going to get splinters in her ass. I'm kind of surprised she didn't although she might have but if so it was mentioned at the 5 minute mark of the movie due to the awesome editing and I forgot. Oh and by the way he did her after killing her dog....granted it wasn't on purpose (killing the dog) but STILL!

Strike 7 or Whatever: So, if you accidentally kill some one's dog don't tell them, just buy them a new puppy and then stick your penis in whatever hole they offer up.

But wait there's more. This movie also includes: A sister that only shows up on screen when we have to believe that Jack is a good man, a minor shoe fetish, a gun shooting vet, an armored car robbery, an old man who is into arts and crafts, an ex-wife who is farming someone else's oysters, a son who never takes off his stocking cap, a Hell's Angels type of motor boating gang (with neighborly manners), and some ending credit outdoor tub splashing.

Strike 8 Or Maybe More: With all that they still managed to make a snoozefest of a movie

Tea Time or Toilet Time????

For those ladies who insist on holding entire conversations in public restrooms...Knock it off will ya??? Some of us are not in there for tea and scones and hate feeling that maybe an apology might be in order when letting go of a massive fart while dropping some toilet biscuits. Oh, and get over the smell with you??? It's a room full of toilets what do you expect it to smell like? Fresh baked chocolate chip cookies?

My Not so secret Star Crush....

Ryan Reynolds. There I said it. I freely admit it. I think he is totally hot. I will go see any movie he is in just to spend 90 minutes gazing at him or if I'm really lucky 2 hours. Here's why...

Randomness while Driving

So on the way to work the other day I was speeding along....yep speeding...I somehow always find that I have exactly 19 minutes to get from my house to work and punch in. Never know how that happens....it just does. So, anyways, I was speeding along the backway to work....can't take the front way....it's all blocked off because of road construction...the bastards.  So here I am on a two lane no passing allowed road behind a Jimmy John's deliverer who was behind a dumbass going 20 miles an hour under the speed limit. Granted this stretch of road is only about a mile long but HELLO! I'm on a deadline here! and all I could see was the 20 cars behind me and that Jimmy Johns driver ahead of me and my one thought (among the huge amount of profanities coming out of my mouth aimed at the shithole going so slow) was....At least they're still Freaky Good.

Random Thought

Ok, so at work earlier, while diligently working my weary fingers to the bone a woman walked past talking to her friend loudly. It's weird what some people talk about in public when they don't think others are listening. Which totally isn't the point because I didn't hear a lot of what she was saying because she was, as I said, walking past and was out of ear shot quickly. All I heard was "I have multiple, multiple......".(she so enunciated her words that way!) That's it. That's all I heard. My first thought was not "What does she have multiple of???" Nope. I really didn't give two shits. My thought was..."Isn't it a bit redundant to multiply a multiple?"

Well? Isn't it? Isn't it?

Random crap....or maybe just Pretzels

While strolling through my mega list of blogs that I follow I stumbled upon a friend of a friend of a friend who I don't know from Adam but thought her blog about chips vs. pretzels was kind of silly, a little pointless but yet it totally entertained me for several minutes and I thought I would share.

Jenn's original blog idea, which I totally copied but with some minor alterations I made it my own so therefore should not in anyway infringe on her creative writings whatsoever (in theory anyway, based completely on the music industry's irresponsible hip-hop examples) can be seen here.... Pretzels or Chips.

So this blog post got me thinking....it does happen occasionally....about Pretzels. I like 'em. They aren't my favorite snack food idea but they are quite munchable. My only problem is that unless you get the proper pretzel to liquid ratio correct you end up with a mouth full of pretzel paste.

Pretzel Paste by definition is the dough like residue that builds up when one's mouth does not produce enough spit to turn the pretzel from a hard solid form into a swallowable consistency.

So, what does this have to do with anything? It really doesn't other than I don't care for pretzel paste and need a glass of water  handy when eating pretzels. Oh and Pretzel flavored Mt. Dew isn't as appealing as it sounds, I wouldn't recommend it.

No tolerance for idiots....

First off I have to tell you that I worked for over a decade with adults with special needs. Many of them were mentally challenged. I really have an endless supply of patience when it comes to those people. Honest I do. However, lately, I have noticed my tolerance for people with "normal" IQs who act like complete idiots is diminishing. I don't know if it is the fact that I am fast approaching 40 or that the pollutants in our air and soil are causing certain stupid people to meet certain other stupid people resulting in the world crisis of a baby boom of breeding fucktards or what. But let me tell you, it's an epidemic.

Went to Runza not to long ago and ordered myself a Swiss Cheese Mushroom Runza (yummo!) and ordered my mom a Swiss Cheese Mushroom Burger with only mustard. I don't work at Runza. I don't know what they put on their sandwiches. Some places put mustard, ketchup and pickles standard. Some places you get lettuce and tomatoes too. Runza apparently gives you dumb asses taking orders. After a long pause once I ordered my mom's sandwich the disembodied female voice (I'll call her Dumb-Ass-Woman or DAW for short) had a couple of questions....
DAW--What was after that Swiss Cheese Mushroom Runza?
Me--A Swiss Cheese Mushroom Burger with only mustard.
DAW--Ma'am the Swiss Cheese Mushroom Burger doesn't come with mustard."
Me--(after an eye roll and a mental WTF) OK, can I get that with mustard only?
DAW--Do you want the mushrooms and cheese?
Me--(reigning in my smart ass remarks, biting my tongue, and putting on a smile) Yes that would be great. A Swiss Cheese Mushroom Burger with Swiss cheese, mushrooms and mustard.

Am I really losing my ability to accept stupidity with grace and a shoulder shrug? Did I even have that ability or am I just being bombarded more recently without having the experience of shrugging it off over this last decade because it truly is becoming some sort of wide swept affliction?

I write therefore I am

I have an acquaintance from high school who recently took up blogging. Maybe he actually has been blogging for a while but I just discovered his (possibly new) blog and  eagerly check in with it everyday to see what he has written about.

I am never disappointed, he writes several things daily. His blog posts are always so.....hmmmm....eloquent Yep, that would be the word to describe them. His topics are always thought provoking and entertaining. His posts often ask rhetorical questions that I myself always wonder just never actually thought to ask.

Knowing that he is writer and I am in awe with his blog it makes me wonder about my own blog. Is it worth even writing? Worth reading? Worth a pile of petrified poo?

The unwritten rules of blogging state that you should first and foremost blog for your own enjoyment.

Do I blog because I enjoy it? Yep. Well, maybe. I mean I kinda do. I definitely don't do it for the masses. I currently have 2 followers on my blog (shout out to ya girls!) so I am pretty sure I am not entertaining the troops with my various posts on weird shit that pops into my head. But I have to wonder if I blog because I truly like it or because the wallflower (how's that for an old word?) in me is tired of being ignored. I kind of feel like throwing open my window and shouting "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore!" (obscure movie quote from the movie Network by the way) but now thanks to the Internet I won't get into trouble for screaming out my window at 3am. I can just blog about it.

I often have things to say but just end up letting other people talk over me so much that now that I have a captive audience (all 2 of you) I'm in 5th or 6th heaven. Not sure if I get more followers if that will elevate me up to 7th Heaven or not......

So, I am still not sure if I blog for my own enjoyment or if I am a troubled kid crying out for attention. Honestly I don't give two shits one way or another but I have to admit I like my finished products and if someone else has read them and likes what they read that's cool too.

That leaves me with another unwritten rule of blogging. You don't have to be a writer to blog. OK I just made that one up. It's a good rule though. I might have to write that one down.

So, I might not ever write anything remotely awe inspiring as my acquaintance can but I'm going to keep on keeping on...er....blogging on.

*unprofessional author's note--The entire topic of this post was based on a 10 second thought process my brain underwent after reading a post by said acquaintance. I am pretty sure I dedicated more time writing about it than I did actually thinking about it. I am in no way comparing myself or my writing to that of a professional nor do I ridicule myself for not creating an award winning prose. It was more of a "Blogging...why bother." moment which has now passed. I solemnly swear to never go in this direction again.

Are there any Good Remakes out there???

So yesterday Carolyn and I went to the old as dirt theater here in CB to see Nightmare On Elm Street. As you may remember I was pretty pessimistic about it too. I was right about that by the way.

First I feel the need to explain our little run down theater. It was quite the hoppin' place back in the 1970's and unfortunately never updated. The screen is like watching a 13" television from across the room and the seats...well those I think are rather new because they bought them from another theater that probably bought theirs from another theater who bought theirs from....anyway, the seats are not that bad and now they even have cup holders. Yes our little theater is moving on up. Before 6pm tickets cost only $2...after 6 they are $3. Not bad. The popcorn though is best left alone. Last time I ate it I had a hard time choking down the stale kernels. Oh and after a sat down I stepped onto something of substance....under my shoe it felt about the size of a candy bar. At least I hope it was a candy bar. It didn't smell like dookie around my seat so I am pretty confident that someone didn't take a hard dump in the 3rd row.

So, Carol and I splurged and spent 3 Bucks to see a movie that we both agreed would never be worth $9 at a first run theater. After the movie we kind of wanted our  money back. I think it was worth a dollar....Redbox DVD rental worthy. Nothing more than that.

Now for the Movie

We were a little disappointed that Robert Englund would not be Freddy in this remake. Granted he is 63 years old but it isn't like Freddy is an attractive 30 year old or anything. The actor that portrayed Freddy in the remake is Jackie Earle Haley who has actually been in quite a number of different tv/movie projects but more recently he played Rorschach in Watchmen. I thought he did a great job as Rorschach. As Freddy though....meh.

This review might contain some spoilers....but honestly this is a remake....isn't the entire movie a spoiler???

As the storyline went....it was changed quite a bit but still held onto the whole Freddy will kill you in your dreams thing. Nancy is the only recognizable character. None of the characters are really friends, whereas in the original they were. Tina, Rod, Glen and Nancy made up the group. The other closest to the original would probably be Kris....at least in the original Tina's real name was Christina.

The beginning of the movie jumps right in with a guy who might be in a nightmare but you just don't know until you see Freddy. It also spends the first 1/3 or so of the movie surrounding Kris and her boyfriend. It was a little weird. Kind of like the film people were following Kris around and when she died they all looked at each other, the director said "Well that sucks. What'll we do now? OK here's what we are going to do...keep the cameras rolling and everyone follow Nancy. Now GO!"

The Kill Scenes

No horror movie is worth dirt unless it has some awesome and gory kill scenes. Some of them were OK in the movie. Some...I swear I saw them before somewhere LOL. Kris's death was very similar to Tina's in the original. The opening kill scene.....well just didn't make a whole lot of sense. It suffered from too many special effects. Yes it does happen. I'll tell you about another instance in a bit.

First kill scene....the opening guy ends up kind of killing himself. At least that is what it looked like to witnesses. Of course they couldn't see Freddy forcing Dean to do it. Let's just say that this involved a steak knife and a throat. The problem I had with this was that the steak knife wasn't some sort of serrated Ginsu knife. It was one of the big bulky rounded ones that you find at places like The Golden Corral. What's up with the rounded tip anyway? It's like a safety scissor's version of a steak knife. Sure one could shove a 5" safety knife into one's throat....with enough force one could shove a spoon in there. But to make one clean swipe across the entire throat (buried to the hilt by the way) with a knife that could barely cut against the grain of a fillet Mignon? Maybe if you took the time to saw through the cartilage and tissue, but honestly I don't think so....that might be an experiment worthy of Mythbusters.

Another kill scene that didn't make much sense was when Jesse was in jail. Freddy thrust his entire hand (knives and all) through Jesse's back and out his chest. Of course in Jail all you see is blood and gore erupting out of his chest cavity. He falls onto his stomach and dies. There is no marks on his back at all. So, what's the issue then right? If you remember from the original Rod dies in jail but "hangs himself". This made sense because of all the cameras. The whole thing with Freddy killing is because if there are witnesses no one would believe them. Who is going to believe that a water bed sucked someone into it and spewed them out like Old Faithful filled with tomato soup instead of plain water. (By the way...not in this movie...what? No one has a water bed anymore???) But in jail with all the cameras....that shit will end up on YouTube. Try explaining that one.

Writers take liberties on Freddy's background

In the original Freddy is a child killer. Pretty horrible huh? In 2010 what could possibly be worse than a child killer. Let's make him a pedophile. Yep Freddy liked the kiddies. I think they spent way, I mean WAY, too much time on this. At one point Freddy gave me the Chester the Molester creeps. This was not the way it was supposed to be! Freddy should scare the crap outta me (maybe that was a petrified turd I stepped on) because the boogie man is scary...he will kill you...you can't fall asleep because he wants to kill you. Not because he wants to show you his secret place and give you candy if you will help keep it a secret.

Special effects are only special if used sparingly

Not that I ever thought about proving this as a point but thanks to this movie I can now say "A-ha! It is true." Remember in the original Freddy liked to run his knives along metal and creating little sparks? Pretty cool actually. Now picture him doing this for what seems like an entire football field. Now picture the little sparks looking like someone welding something complete with the sparking fizzle sound. Either that or someone Punk'd Freddy and attached sparklers to his finger tips. It was that ridiculous.

Let's wrap this up folks

So overall am I glad I watched it? Still not sure.
Am I glad I didn't spend $9 when it came out the end of April? Hell's Yeah!
Do I wish I would have gone the Redbox $1 route? Naw...I still had a good time with Carol.
Am I glad I didn't bend over and touch whatever was on the floor? Forever Grateful.

A new blog look....a new lease on life.

Not really. I mean yes I do have a new blog look. Fabulous isn't it? Not made by Lena but I still stand by her work. If you scroll back through my past blogs to the second official blog you can find her link. She has some gorgeous layouts that would please just about anyone.

So why am I not using one of hers? No clue. I was still awake at 6am this morning looking for Mr Sleep and not finding him on facebook so I blogged. After writing my heart out for a few minutes and clicking publish post I got a wild hair to look at Blogger's Design feature and found this fabulous orange swirly background.

New background....check.

A New Lease On Life...not today. But then I am pretty satisfied with the way my life is going right now. One would have to be dissatisfied first before needing to embark on a new lease on life right?

Anyway, speaking of where my life is going, it is supposed to be going to shower so I can meet a friend from work at The Great Wall for dinner before heading to the run down CB theater to watch a movie that has been out for a couple of months but not yet on DVD.

What am I going to see? Nightmare on Elm Street. Being a fan of the 80's and the original, Carolyn and I are determined to see what they did to our beloved movie. A pessimist at heart...I am going to see how they completely screwed a classic horror movie.

Creativity. Got It?

A typical night for me after work usually consists of me spending a little time at my computer before heading to bed. Also pretty typical for me is that I tend to get a little sidetracked while obsessively reading my facebook updates. Tonight (or this morning depends on what kind of person you are) was, you guessed it, typical. While deciding if I really wanted to play Farmville (why I even bother I have no idea...I really hate gardening or anything having to do with yard work in reality) or trying to find something uber clever to update my status with I noticed the box of scrap booking items that I have sitting in the corner of my computer room.

The box isn't overly large. About the size of a 1980's boom box with duel cassette decks, not too big but totally rad, it is sitting on top of 3 boxes of books that I have yet to find room for and next to a basket of clothes that could be clean but more likely not. Upon seeing it I remembered that, "Oh yeah!" I totally wanted to put together the most brilliant and beautiful book of memories for myself. And later, when my friends and family paged through it with envy, I was going to make one for them too.

Well, I have the supplies. I have the time. I even have someone who would love to join me in a pseudo scrap booking party. So, what's the problem?

I do not have even one tiny smidgen of creativity in my entire body.

I remember now when I obtained all those wondrous supplies. It was truly glorious. I had various sizes of colorful paper spread out in front of me littered with crafty little decals just ready for some glue. I had the special scissors, the special markers, the special photos! all haphazardly arranged on the floor ready to begin. And there I sat...not sure where to start. I waited for inspiration. I looked at crafting magazines hoping some DIY star would become my muse.

After a little while I opted to flip through my photos in search of...well, anything to help me get started. What I ended up doing is spending an hour or more thumbing through those photos remembering the person, thinking about the place they were taken and in some of them wondering "what was I thinking???"

After going through the entire pile I put them all back into my shoe box packed up all my scrap booking supplies and stuck the entire box into the corner where it has been for awhile.

For those creative souls does creating come easy? Is it just a matter of laying out a few odds and ends of paper, add a little glue, write a little note and *poof* art? Am I one of the few who just can't look at a pile of various things and create beauty?

I think so. Give me a diagram, write me directions, give me step by step instructions....I might be able to copy them. Copy. Yep. Not create but carefully reproduce someone else's vision. At least it would be an excellent reproduction. I would probably even get a ruler out to make sure my ribbon was in the exact same location. I would have to trace any handwritten notes to ensure that my finished product looked as good as the original.

Does my lack of creativity have anything to do with me being completely and utterly anal? I have no clue but it is an interesting correlation. I do know that I humbly bow down to you artsy fartsy people. You rock.

So for now my box of scrap booking supplies still sits in the corner. One of these days I will pull it back out or maybe I will just put it into the closet on the shelf next to my partially completed latch hook rug, my beading supplies, the counted cross stitch project, and the sewing pattern to make my very own window treatments.