Various Tidbits For Your Delight

Biscuits in Love

It's bad enough St. Valentine's Day (aka Single Awareness Day) is coming up, and I already feel like a mess, but now we single folk have a new reason to stick our heads in the oven (no pun intended) .... friggin' biscuits come in pairs now! I, for one, do not need to see a commerical about biscuits coupling and making the "perfect portion," while I'm in my pajamas, with Noxema on my face, eating a Ho-Ho and watching Grey's Anatomy, by myself. I'll wait until they come out with "Third Wheel" biscuits before I purchase another Pillsbury product - Take that you giggling, pasty, white
piece of talking dough!

Nachos/Chips Fiasco

After bowling yesterday, JohnPaul and I went to get some margaritas at a nearby Mexican restaurant. The bartender gave us complimentary chips and salsa. When JP and I were ready for our chip basket to be replenished, JP picked up the basket and said to the bartender, "Can we have more nachos?" The bartender responds, "You mean chips, right? Because nachos have stuff on them, and chips are just plain." JP says, "Yes, so chips then," and then he looks at me and says, "Now, you know we just had plain chips, so why she had to go all into the description of nachos and chips? If we had chips to begin with, and we're waving the basket around, obviously we mean we want more of what we just had!" And, then we had two more margaritas.

Get Up Out My Face

After the gym this evening, I jumped on my bus and headed home. The M14A was surprisingly spacious at this time, which was great; I grabbed a single seat in the back and turned on my mp3 player. Two stops later, a man with a few bags boards the bus, and comes right over to where I am sitting. He places his bags on the floor and grabs the pole above my head to steady himself. Ummm, why are you all up in my face, sir? There are plenty of seats for you to choose from - so choose one! What made it even worse was he smelled like a long day, and a carton of Marlboro cigarettes. The chick in the single seat in front of me noticed this as well, and had to cover her nose with her pretty striped scarf. When it is rush hour, and crowded, the personal space rule frequently gets broken; that's understandable. But, on a roomy bus, with lots of seats ... Get the hell out of my space! Did you want to listen to my mp3 player too? I doubt it, because I might be the only New Yorker who listens to 80's Duran Duran, and Michael Buble on the same playlist. Shush up! "Hungry like the Wolf" will never be out of style! Rooooar!

Who are you trying to kid, Dr. Leonard?

The newest Dr. Leonard's catalog has arrived, HOORAY! For those of you not "in the know," Dr. Leonard's is America's leading discount healthcare catalog.

Ever since I was a kid, Dr. Leonard's was mailed to my home. And, since then, Dr. Leonard has tried to pass off a vibrator as a "massager." Who are you trying to fool Dr. Leonard? Don't nobody need 5 different attachments to massage their ear.

As for the "personal massager" below, it's sold in 4, 7, 9 1/2 and 12 inch models. Why would I need various inch choices to massage my shoulder? Exactly! Ain't nobody buying one of them to massage their shoulders!

On another note, how do you audition to be a Dr. Leonard's model? Do you have to have an agent?

PS: Do we really need a model to show us how an extra-long shower hose works? He's having way too much fun in this picture.

Is Florida the 7th level of Hell?

I'm starting to believe that Florida is the 7th level of hell, my friends. Now, I know I exaggerate sometimes, but I think I'm on to something here.

Weather - The intense heat does something to the mind, y'all. Then it rains for 5 seconds, and stops. And, sometimes it rains on one side of the street, and not the other. That ain't right! (Let's not even get into the horrible hurricanes).

Disney - The devil is always trying to tempt us, so what better way to trap us in his midst than with fun, fun, fun! Something ain't right with those Disney characters: They're always nice (something is definitely wrong with that). Then they have a bunch of princesses that were wronged in some way (abused as children, poisoned, drugged, etc.,) and they are still happy. Excuse me? Are the churros they sell around the park filled with Prozac? Let me find out the b*tch that poisoned me is living in the same place as me ... someone's getting shanked!

Men - I've never dated a Floridian, but a very, very close source of mine has, and says (essentially) that Floridian men are "special." And, I'm not talking "I can name all the states alphabetically" special either. Apparently, these dudes swear they are the cat's meow, and have the amazing skill of saying one thing while doing another. They say they want to be exclusive, and are fine with a long distance relationship. BUT WAIT! Your ass gets on the return flight home, and their on the celly saying, "I don't think I can do this." Then you shouldn't have suggested it, ass.

Heat, fun & games, and men who do a bad job of lying ... something isn't right down there. It must be the devil's doing, no?

In any case, if Florida really is the 7th level of hell, then Donatella Versace, and the skeletal figure at her side, hold dominion over it!

I was mugged by a squirrel once.

While watching television today, I saw a Western Union commercial that featured several squirrels mugging a man. Yes, yes, quite amusing ... until it happens to you!

Mind you, it wasn't my wallet that was stolen, it was my lunch - but, does that make it any less frightening? I think not.

It was a lovely day in Philadelphia, and I decided to have lunch on Temple University's main campus. I bought my favorite sandwich from the Bagel Hut, and a bottle of Snapple Mint Iced Tea (I might be the only person who likes that flavor, but I digress).

I took my lunch and sat at a picnic table. I cracked open my bottle of Snapple, and enjoyed half of my sandwich. It was when I was about to eat the other half that it happened ... a huge squirrel casually climbed onto the picnic table and stood before me. His nostrils flared, and his eyes were right on me. He looked from me to the sandwich and back again. What could I do? Risk getting rabies? This b*tch was close. One false move, and I was going to be the biggest friggin' acorn ever scored by a squirrel. So, I slowly got up from the table and called my sister Sissy on my cellphone. "Girl, I just got mugged by a squirrel!" She laughed, as my sandwich got manhandled by a rat with a furry tail. Not too long after, another squirrel came out of nowhere to help his friend finish the meal. My Snapple was still on the table; I thought about getting it, but was too afraid. I thought, "They're squirrels, they can't drink from straws." But, until that day I didn't think it was possible to get mugged by a squirrel, so for all I knew they were capable of anything.

Cory-isms

JohnPaul recently requested that I post some of my most frequent sayings that make him laugh. Here are some of them. If I'm missing some good ones, please let me know in the comments section.

Cory-isms

1. I'm not getting involved [while slowly walking out of the room; not making direct eye contact helps as well].
2. Don't worry about what others do, worry about yourself. [This is typically used when JohnPaul wants me to help him analyze the actions of some guy].
3. Damn, damn, damn!
4. Sweetie ... [with a wave of my index finger and all the attitude/sarcasm I have in me - and that's a lot, honey].
5. Why am I single? [Seriously though! I know a chick with a beard that has a man, what the hell!].
6. Pretty people have problems too.
7. Ugh, I need Paxil.

On to other news ...

CBS 2 News had a story about how eating fruits and veggies can make you ill [http://wcbstv.com/topstories/local_story_020170213.html].

Umm, can someone tell me what the hell we CAN eat?

Chicken Little

Look at the McNugget next to the bowl of ketchup - What part of a chicken is shaped like a boot?

I've heard rumors that in order to appeal to children, McNuggets are made into shapes that are familiar to kids. A circle, okay. But, a boot? Three gold stars for the genius who thought of that.

Breaking News!

Partly cloudy and 73 degrees will be the weather tomorrow in Miami, Florida. But, come nightfall, the temperature is gonna rise my friends, because one of the loves of my life, JohnPaul, will be entering the city! No extinguisher can cool the heat that emits from a New Yorker visiting a city infested with muy caliente latinos!

Although JohnPaul has visited Miami about 15 times since last year, I hope he has an amazing time. Take notes, honey. Because I know the telephone call upon your return will be 3 hours long, and it helps if it's organized.

Have a safe trip, have lots of fun, and drink tons of frozen drinks for me! And, I'll have a dirty martini for you when I go out this weekend! I love you!

Vipir vs. Doppler 5 Million

What is going on with weather-persons lately? It seems that they are in competition and always trying to out-do each other with the size of their radars. Before going to bed last night I watched the weather forecast, I can't remember what channel it was, but the weather radar was called "Vipir." Are you kidding me? We're talking about the weather, not a friggin' stealth bomber!

Yes weather-persons, we are all happy that you have been upgraded, and no longer have to use a Velcro sun and clouds to forecast the weather. But, seriously, even with a radar system called "Vipir, " or "Doppler 5 Million (or whatever number they are up to now)," you still only get the weather correct half the time.

Please do us all a favor, and focus on giving us the correct temperature, instead of naming your radar system so it sounds like you're going to fight crime. Thank you.

Men's Health

I saw a television commercial today that was quite interesting. It was about men and diabetes. The usual information was given, such as how many American men have it, and the various health concerns that come along with having diabetes. Then the commercial narrator states that diabetes affects people's sex lives, and goes on to discuss this tidbit of information a little further.

Have we gotten to the point where the only way we can get men to see a doctor or take their meds, is if we mention improving their sex lives? How about seeing a doctor so you don't die? Apparently death isn't a selling point anymore, so promises of a long-lasting erection must be brought to the plate. Ahhh, I love America; our priorities are so right on!

Cape Gear

I just got back from the movies; my friend Jennifer and I went to see "Casanova." It's a cute movie, but what really struck me was the clothing. The wigs, the knickers, the shoes, and the capes - and that's just the men. Capes are hot, and I think we need to bring them back. Who doesn't look good in a cape? Think about it: Zorro wore a cape, Casanova, and Batman. Even dysfunctional b*tches like The Phantom of the Opera and Dracula. They looked fabulous and mysterious, and their look would totally not have worked unless they had a cape.

Plus, nothing makes a more dramatic entrance or exit, than the swing of a cape. Let's say your boss calls you to their office and asks you to make copies. Rather than simply saying, "Sure," and walking away, how fabulous would it be to say, "Yes!", swing your cape and disappear out of sight? Or, you're invited to a friend's party - everyone makes the same entrance ... but, not you! You can bust through the door with your cape ... all eyes on you, honey, all eyes on you!

Sloppy Seconds

DON'T STARE DIRECTLY INTO HER EYES, SHE'LL STEAL YOUR MAN!


If you're a huge celebrity gossip junkie, like myself, you've already heard the latest news: Brad & Angelina are expecting a new addition to their family (and luckily, this one won't need UN approval to enter the country). I'm happy for those crazy kids; they seem like a nice couple, and they definitely consider family a priority (either breaking-up, or building, one. But, who am I to judge?).

Lets' explore that question, shall we? "Who am I to judge?" Well, I'm a concerned American; therefore, I have a right to judge. That's my explanation, and I'm sticking to it.

My concern is not for Brad - he's had problems with commitment from the get-go (Exhibit A: Robin Givens (yes, I'm just as surprised), Exhibit B: Juliette Lewis, Exhibit C: Gwyneth Paltrow, Exhibit D: Jennifer Aniston). Did we really expect any of his relationships to last? I think not. So, chick-hopping is a natural activity. Plus, he needs something to do in-between the crappy movies he's been making (have you seen "Troy"?)

My concern is with Ms. Jolie -- Girl can't seem to find a man on her own. The only man she found on her own was her brother, and that was at an unfair advantage because he was in the next room. Ms. Jolie snatched Billy Bob Thornton while he was living with Laura Dern. He left one day to make a movie, and POOF, never returned. That is messed up! Same thing with Bradley. He left Jennifer at home one day, went to make a movie, and we all know how that ended up.

I'm not putting all the blame on Angie and her hypnotic vagina, because Billy and Brad played their parts too. But, something must be said when a beautiful and intelligent woman participates in homewrecking activities (more than once). It's a pattern, honey. Was she not hugged enough? Did she mistake them for poverty-stricken Third World children, and attempt to adopt them? Why Angie! Why! Explain it to us, please. Okay, I'll give you Brad Pitt - who wouldn't want to land that man (despite "Troy"), but Billy Bob? There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason. And, what makes it worse, is that she never speaks. Have you heard her voice lately? I haven't. Does she do all of her hypnotizing with just her coochie and some perfume? If the answer is yes, then the b*tch needs to write a book and share the knowledge. I'd love to just spritz myself with some Donna Karan Cashmere Mist, and let my coochie do the talking ... it would save me a lot of time and effort. Of course, my coochie wouldn't be talking to anyone up in my neighborhood. Go Angie - you're my new hero! (For the day, anyway).

The Lion, The Witch, and the Gay Devout Catholic Who Doesn't Eat Pork

A straight girl, and four gay men walk into an Ethiopian restaurant ...

No, this is not the beginning of a joke; it's what happened this past Saturday. I went out to dinner and a movie with my best friend JohnPaul, his two friends from Florida, and their "friend" from somewhere in New York. For their safety, I will refer to the Floridians as Harry and Al. The "friend" from somewhere in New York can be called The Annoying One.

JP and I met all 3 guys in front of the IFC Theater on West 4th Street. We get to the Ethiopian restaurant and it is packed, so we decide to go to a cheap Asian massage salon around the corner to waste time until our table is ready. The Annoying One and I decide not to get pummelled by the 85 lbs masseuse, and sit in the small waiting area. At this time I didn't know if he was gay/straight. But, I sure as hell knew he was annoying.

The Annoying One is 18 years old, and just like me, he is a pale Puerto Rican. And, just like me when I was 18, he felt he needed to go overboard to validate his Puerto Rican-ness. For starters, when he introduced himself to JP and me, instead of saying "My name is blah-blah-blah, but you can call me blah for short," he said "You can call me blah, because no one knows how to pronounce my real name." Excuse you! Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot pronounce! JP and I were on same wavelength honey, because JP says, "Try me." So, The Annoying One says his name with all the rolling R's he could muster. However, it was to no avail, because JP said it right back, perfectly. Take that you smug ass! Next, while The Annoying One and I are sitting in the waiting area, all he did was talk. What did he talk about you ask? Well, let's just say he broke the #1 rule of first-time communications ... Don't discuss politics or religion.

He's a freshman, studying Latin American politics. He practically went through every Latin American country and told me the name of the leader and the friggin' crops they grow. He started every sentence with, "You know what's interesting ...." Um, yeah I do, and right now what you're talking about isn't. On a different day, yes, 'cause I loves me some political banter. But, on a Saturday night? When I just met you? NO! Any who, he starts throwing out acronyms so he can sound smart (which I'm sure he is, but it's coming off as arrogance). I try to change the subject, and ask, "So, when you're not trying to save Latin America, what do you do?" You know what this b*tch says? "I'm a member of [INSERT ACRONYM] (a Latin American political group)." Thankfully, Al emerges from behind the curtain right before I choke the sh*t out of The Annoying One. Soon after, both Harry and JP are done with their massages, and we head over to dinner. In the short walk to the restaurant, I learn that The Annoying One is gay, and ALL over Harry. I also find out that Harry met The Annoying One over MySpace, and they only met face-to-face yesterday! And, I find out that Al does not like him ... Join the club.

While we are looking over the menu, JP suggests we get the meat combo platter. The Annoying One asks, "Is there pork in the platter? Because I don't eat pork." While at the massage place, he mentioned that he was Catholic. But, I'm Catholic and I eat pork. So, all of us are wondering why he doesn't eat pork. He says, "I'm a Mennonite Catholic. We follow the Old Testament, and it's against my religion to eat pork." Okay, okay, wait. So, you're telling me that you don't eat pork because it's against your religion? Isn't being gay against your religion too? If you're so devout, shouldn't you be home self-hating? If I had my red leather glove on hand, I would have slapped him with it right then and there. I can just imagine how God will react when The Annoying One arrives at the pearly gates. God will be standing there with his palms out, looking from one to the other, lifting them higher and lower, and saying, "Hmmm, didn't eat pork, gay ... didn't eat pork, gay. You've gotta be kidding me, right?"

After dinner, we went to 42nd Street to see "Hostel." Al, JP and I stayed for the last showing; Harry and The Annoying One left to go and read the Bible, I'm sure. For those of you who know me, you know paying to see a horror flick is a huge step for me. I am a punk. My eyes were closed for most of it, but I can say that it sounded good and scary. When we left the theater, one viewer (who I'm sure is on his way to being Ebert & Roeper's protege) said on his cellphone, "There was a lot of blood and titties ... that's all I wanted."

I took a cab home after the movie, and the driver was playing hippity-hop music really loud. Now, before you get all pissy and say, "I bet you wouldn't have been scared if the driver was playing Mozart loud." I beg to differ. If you know me, you know that I don't like loud noises, probably because I want to hear what's going on around me - especially when a man I don't know is driving me home. It could have been Clay Aiken on the radio and I still would have been scared. Now, I just saw a movie about young people getting sold and cut up into itty-bitty pieces. I do not need to be in a closed environment, with loud music, at the whim of a stranger taking me home. I was scurred, y'all. What if he was planning something with the friend he was talking to on his ear-bud, but I couldn't hear it because Snoop Dog was singing about lace panties! Being the paranoid chick that I am, I took his taxi info down on my cellphone, and I prepared myself to "tuck-n-roll." Just in case. (Shut up!)

Thankfully, I made it home in one piece.

Victoria's Secret

I'm quite disturbed, y'all. I was perusing through my daily Victoria's Secret catalogue (no joke, I get a new one everyday), and one of the most well-known VS Angels, whose name I don't recall, but I'm sure it's something like Svetlana (and her country of origin ends in "-venia," or "-vakia") had her bellybutton airbrushed. ("Svetlana" is the brunette chick who doesn't look pretty when she smiles, so the photographer has her doing bedroom-eyes in every picture. But, instead of looking sexy, she looks like she's trying to get her eyes to roll completely behind her head).

Some of you might ask, "Damn Cory, how close were you looking at this chick to notice an airbrushed bellybutton?" Well, I will tell you. I wasn't looking close at all. However, it's hard to miss when someone's bellybutton is all of a sudden the size of an eyeball. Now, I knew it was airbrushed not only because of the size (which was bordering on Grand Canyon), but also because in every other shot, she has a bellybutton-ring and a small/normal sized bellybutton. I'm not saying VS shouldn't airbrush; that's how they sell products. But, why something so unnecessary as a bellybutton. It's bad enough VS airbrushes the models nipples - like we don't know there there, and if we see them (Heaven forbid) it would be anarchy. Seriously people, does VS think that models without nips deters young men from whipping out the lotion? I think not.

Alls I'm saying is airbrush a shark bite, a grotesque mole/beauty mark, and definitely airbrush a lazy eye. But, don't waste money on airbrushing a bellybutton -- unless you're gonna do a good job and make it look real, instead of looking like a meteor hit.

Stoop Dreams

Yes everyone, she fell and she couldn't get up (my mother that is). At 2am this morning, my slumber was interrupted by my mother's familiar high-pitched cackle, "FREDDY!" [10 seconds delay], "FREDDY!" It would appear that Freddy (my father) did not hear the S.O.S call from his loving wife; as he was most likely sleeping on his "good" ear.

I quickly jumped up, forgetting my glasses, and called out to my mom, "What happened?" She replies, "I fell." Low and behold, there she was, lying on her side by the front closet. I said, "Mom, pray-tell, how did you come to be on the floor?," and then I looked into the living room and saw the answer for myself. My mother, being the inpatient insomniac she is, decided to dismantle the Christmas/Holiday tree (whatever the hell you wish to call it), in the middle of the night. And, because she didn't want to wait until the morning to put the ornaments back in the boxes, she decided to climb the stoop ladder and get the boxes herself. She lost her footing (probably because she was smoking or knitting at the same time), and fell to the ground. Mind you, during this interaction between me and my mom, my dad was still asleep.

I went to my dad's room and poked at him (because saying his name in a loud tone wasn't working) until he jumped up. He was informed that his beloved was on the floor, and how she came to be there. We returned to my mother and made sure she could wiggle all of her piggies. Having discovered that mom was not terribly hurt, we laughed (not mom, but dad and I). Dad and I helped mom up, and dad told mom to go to bed. And, she did ... but not before she lit a cigarette and retrieved a glass of Pepsi. She wonders why she can't sleep at night! Maybe because she pumps herself full of stimulants until the wee hours of the morning.

In any event, mom decided to go the hospital this morning, and found that she had broken her elbow. The doctor provided her with a sling and two prescriptions (1 for Motrin and 1 for Vicodin). Mom has decided to only use the Motrin (yeah, I know!)

Moral of the story kiddies: When you fall and don't hurt yourself too bad but the doctor prescribes Vicodin ... YOU TAKE THE DAMNED VICODIN!

Happy New Year!

Happy 2006 and welcome to my blog site! I trust that you celebrated the new year to the fullest, and are now ready to act on your resolutions (for the first 3 weeks of January, anyway). Having said that, I wish you luck and the added willpower to stretch your resolutions until Valentine's Day!

As stated above, welcome to my blog. I decided to start a blog, because, hell, everyone else has one ... why not me? I have witty things to say too, damn it! Plus, this blog is free ... so there.

I hope you visit my corner often, and enjoy my frequent rants and raves about the happenings in the world, the celebrity-sphere, and the simple (yet, thought-provoking) occurrences of my daily life. But remember this is my corner, and around these parts, if b*tches don't act right - they get shanked!