What was I thinking?

Everything scares me, so I was quite surprised with myself when I decided to watch the new A & E show, Paranormal State (PS). PS is a reality show involving this group of Penn State students who started an organization that investigates paranormal activity. I was under the impression that PS would be similar to Vh1's Celebrity Paranormal Project or Mtv's Fear. I was wrong.

The premiere episode was about a family that moved to a new house and now their young son sees dead people. So, they called the students to conduct an investigation. Oh. Hell. No.

When a little kid wakes up in the middle of the night and stands in your doorway, waiting for you to wake up, that is unsettling. Being told by your son at breakfast that he couldn't sleep the night because some dead kid was tapping at his window ... that is f--king CRAZY! You don't investigate crazy. You pack your shit up and you leave. Then you hug your son, and tell him not to speak of this again.

In the second episode, a newly single mother and her son moved to a new house (I sense a pattern), and they believe it is haunted. Really? You think the house is haunted? You mean, the friggin' cemetary in your backyard didn't tip you off?

You know what was really messed up - after they bought the house, the previous owner give the mother a copy of an article stating that a family of 6 was brutally murdered in the home years ago. Ooooh snap! And, guess where they're buried ... no, seriously guess ... I'll give you a second ... la la la la ... IN THE BACKYARD!

How badly do you want to be a home owner, that you buy a house with the family still in it?

Needless to say, I had a problem sleeping that night. And, I do plan to watch the show next week. Call me a masochist.

Happy Holidays!

It's that time of year again. Cold weather, greedy children, and disappointment. Ahhhh, I love Christmas.

This year I plan to have all my shopping done before the big day. Instead of what I usually do, which is tell everyone I celebrate 3 Kings Day (January 6th), just so I can benefit from the after-Christmas sales.

Speaking of the 3 Kings, do you think the other two were pissed when the 3rd one said he bought gold for the baby messiah? I mean, the other guys brought frankincense and myrrh. I'm sure one of them was like, "Dude! We said there was a $20 limit. What the hell!"

Dear Public Transportation Rider

Dear Public Transportation Rider,

I support and encourage change. I really do. But for the love of all humanity, why must you decide that rush hour, on mass transit, is the best time to change your cell phone ringtone?

I realize choosing between the Halloween-Michael Meyers theme song, and Ode to Joy is a difficult decision. But 100 hundred strap-hangers, in a crowded NYC train/bus, don't want to be with you when you make your choice. Turn your cell phone off and read Metro or AM. I don't want to hear your cell!

Plus, does it matter what the ringtone is? Your cell won't ring in the subway ... ass.

What the Hell of the Moment

What the hell is up with people sending forwards via text message?

Hey! I don't even want forwards when they are free and sent to my email address. What the hell makes you think I want to pay 5 cents for one on my cell phone?

Please stop.

If you truly feel that I am an angel sent from heaven/one of your best friends/whatever the hell else the forward says, just call me and tell me.

To the Moon and Back

In 1969 astronauts supposedly landed on the moon.

Well then, riddle me this: why haven't we gone back there to visit?

Hey, if the landing really happened, then it shouldn't be a problem to go back. Especially now with 21st century technology.

Someone oughtta go back and check to see if the American flag is still a-waving.

Plus, why do we have a space station floating in space, when the moon has some prime, and available, real estate?

What the Hell of the Moment

What the hell is up with smokers on the move; Those people that walk and smoke at the same time.

I'm not one of those people that walks up to smokers and tells them to quit; unless your names are Fred and Liz. If you want to die a horrible death with the added bonus of bad skin and teeth, that is on you. Puff away, my friend. Alls I'm saying is, stay in one frigging spot while you smoke.

My mother has a tendency of making her rounds through the apartment with a lit cigarette. All the damned smoke makes it look like she's in Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video. Mom, stay in one room. No one wants the scent of Eau de Nicotine in the house. My mother's poetic response would be, "Shut the f--k up Cory."

The outdoors isn't any better either.

Hey smoker in front of me! Yeah, you. I know this might surprise you, but when you go outside there is something called wind. And, you see, wind is funny, because it takes things like the smoke from your cancer-stick, and moves it around so that other people who aren't smoking have to breathe in the poisonous air that just spewed forth from your yellow-teeth infested pie-hole. So, pick a damned corner, turn your face away from the general public, and smoke your cigarette in peace. Thank you.

The Wonderful World of Disney

Walt Disney World needs to stop making up shit to celebrate. Every year it's a a new celebration.

Millions of people visit Disney World/Land every year. It's a wonderland of joy and happiness. Apparently if you win the Super Bowl you get the sudden urge to go there. We get it.

You don't need to sell it any more. How many f--king celebrations are there? The next thing you know we're going to be celebrating Mickey's first colonoscopy and Minnie's first PAP.

What the Hell of the Moment

The picture to your left is Chanel's Inimitable (i-nim-i-tuh-buhl) mascara.

What the hell is up with a friggin' 5 syllable word to describe mascara?

It's mascara ... a liquid that makes eye lashes fat and long. It's not that serious. It does not require an SAT level word to describe it.

Not only is the mascara unaffordable, but thanks to the marketing geniuses at Chanel it's unpronounceable.

Mtv Video Music Awards

Last night the Mtv Video Music Awards aired, and I'm not even going to get into the travesty known as Britney Spears. Y'all saw it. I'm embarrassed for her. And, sadly I think we need to start "Countdown to 'Full-Blown' Meltdown" on this heifer.

What I am going to discuss is the apparent spat between crackies Tommy Lee and Kid Rock. Like a classic episode of Jerry Springer, two pieces of trash fought over a chick. The prize in this fight being Pamela Anderson. According to tabloids, Kid Rock slapped Tommy Lee on the face during the awards ceremony. Tommy complains that security got to him before he could defend himself ... yeah, okay.

Now, I've seen the Tommy and Pamela sex tape, and I really don't see the appeal these men feel for her. Sure she has a nice body and face (scratch that), she has a nice body. But bitch didn't do anything by lay there like a human pin cushion. I don't think she should get fought over for being a star-fish.

Does Pamela win in this situation? You give me the choice between Tommy Lee and Kid Rock, and I'm going to choose what's behind Door #3; whatever the hell that is.

Who am I kidding! I'm taking Tommy ... if you've seen the sex tape you'll know why. Momma didn't raise no fool.

Gimme More

I don't know who this bitch is in this picture, but they say it's Britney, so I'm posting it.

In case you haven't heard, Britney released a new single called, "Gimme More." And, I'll be the first to say that I like it. There, I said it.

Sure she's fucked up in the cabeza, and doesn't take care of her kids, but bitch can put out a good dance song. It's no "Toxic," but I'll take it.

As for Britney's ex-boyfriend, Justin Timberlake ... gimme less. Did y'all watch his HBO concert? It wasn't bad, but he ain't no Madonna. I'm not sure he can carry a concert on his own. Justin, I understand that you want to be portrayed as a mature gentleman. That's why you are always wearing a suit and tie. But, please, we want to see skin. Take it off! If I wanted to see a white man in a suit, I'd have lunch on Wall Street. Oh, and when you curse it's weird. You used to be in N'Sync, it just doesn't seem right.

Fully Recovered

Over a week ago, my best friend JohnPaul came to visit from Los Angeles. Oh, what a weekend it was! My liver hurts.

First, we all met at Benny's for dinner and drinks. It was also an opportunity to meet Raf's new "friend;" we shall call him Zeddy. Of course, any new friend is going to be analyzed by the group, that is just how it is. I was liking Zeddy, until he said that coke (and I'm not talking cola) is his weakness. Oh hell no. Chocolate is a weakness. Manolo Blahnik shoes are a weakness. Coke is an addiction, honey. And, FYI, denial is the first step, so congrats on meeting a milestone. Any way, from that point on I was trying to get Raf's attention by giving him the "death ray" stare. But, it was to no avail. In any case, a spot in my heart warmed up for Zeddy when he paid for dinner, and my drinks for the rest of the night.

Without going into too much detail about what happened later that night, suffice it to say that Raf needed to talk to someone badly in the morning. So what did he do? He texted (is that a word?) me from 5:30am until 9am about going to the beach, claiming he needed a friend. Please, he just didn't want to go to the nudie beach alone. He told me if I wanted to leave the beach as soon as we got there, then we would leave. Lies! We went to his mom's house first, and she packed enough food for us to camp on the beach for a week. I was a prisoner in Long Island!

We got to the beach, and planted ourselves next to a group of Raf's beach friends. My vagina was shy, so I didn't go nude this time. But the ta-tas were fine, so they were out and about. The waves were treacherous, and since I didn't want a repeat performance of my last nudie beach visit (stop laughing Raf), I decided to stay away from the ocean. But, no. One of Raf's friends apparently worked for the Atlantic Ocean Association and kept insisting that we go in the water. Every time we moved he was like, "Are you going in? Are you going in?" No bitch, I'm not going in! Now take your twig and berries and get the hell away from me! Luckily I got home (6 hours later) without a sunburn ... hooray for SPF 50!

Sunday afternoon it was brunch time at one of our favorite places. Truth be told, any place that keeps the liquor coming is a favorite of ours. Any way, we laughed, we drank, we talked, we drank, we cried from laughter, and we drank some more. It was fabulous. Then we left the restaurant, and went to Diana's to drink (see picture above). Speaking of that picture, Deni, why do you have your hand on my ankle? I wasn't going to go any where. Possessive much?

Alas, JP had to leave us on Monday, and after I got over my hangover, I was sad. Not sure if it was because I was sober, or because JP left NYC. Just kidding JP! You know from the message I left on your voicemail that I was missing you from the moment I left you in a drunken stupor on Diana's couch.

As is customary when JP visits, I had a wonderful time (from what I can remember). I can't wait until December! We are going to ring in the New Year like never before!!! Love you!!

Isn't It Ironic?

On my bus ride to work this morning I noticed a wall of a brick building that was spray painted with a picture of the Earth, and a message about treating the planet well.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't spray paint have a crazy amount of chemicals that harm the planet?

Of course we have to treat the Earth better, now that your spray paint put a new friggin' hole in the O-Zone. Thanks.

Trapped in the Closet

Can someone tell me why this bitch is still in the closet?

I was walking to the bus this morning and saw an advertisement for this crap. Wasn't R. Kelly in the closet when I was in high school?

R, nobody cares any more, so you can come out now. We're all still getting over the fact that you pee-peed on a 12 year old girl, do you really think we care about what's going in the closet?

Dear Criss ...

You're 40. And no matter how much "bling" you wear, and how much gel you put in your spikey hair, you're 40. Please stop making a fool of yourself.

Oh, and, getting rolled over by a steam roller is not magic. You gettting away with that tired look, now that's magic.

Smooches,

C

Crush of the Moment

John Barrowman

I mentioned in an earlier post that I have taken a liking to BBC-America programming. Well, starting in a few short weeks is a new show called "Torchwood," and John Barrowman is one of the main characters.

Now, me and John go way back, because I crushed on him when he was on the short-lived series, "Central Park West." I realize, I might be the only person that actually watched the show. In any case, I thought he was hot then, and he sure as hell is hot now.

And since I think he's hot, wouldn't you know it - he's gay. But, wait! He's not just gay. He's gay and married. Married to a man, of course. And I believe his partner is hot as well. So, go John and your hot man! I will respect your marriage, and not try to break you two up.

Side Note: Can someone do a check to find out how many of my Crushes are actually straight?

When Irish Eyes are Smiling

I did it, people! After almost a decade of travelling via Amtrak, I finally got on a plane ... not once, but twice (had to come back home, of course)!

I went to Europe, y'all. Where did I go, you ask? Ireland. I spent a marvelous week with my father and my Aunt Emily on the Emerald Isle.

Words cannot express how beautiful and magical Ireland is; and a week is just not enough time to dwell there. I've been home for almost a week and I still can't believe I went there! But, I have the pictures to prove it.

My dad and I were unsuccessful in our search for the "wee" people. In fact, most of the Irish people we encountered were taller than us. However, I do believe that "wee" people exist, and some probably live in the nose-hair of our tour guide. Seriously, his nose-hair was out there.

Not only were the people tall, but I didn't see one unattractive Irish man. They are gorgeous. Of course, that could be all the Guinness talking, but who the hell cares! After a pint we're all hot, no?

Bottom Line: Ireland is amazing, and I can't wait to visit again!

PS: I'd like to give a shout-out to the makers of Ativan and Xanax; thanks to you I didn't go "Twilight Zone Shatner Crazy" on either flight.

Separated at Birth

Captain Jack Sparrow

and

Britney Spears

[Britney's photo provided by PerezHilton.com]

Dose of Reality

Charlie Sheen (41) is engaged ... again.

The lucky lady's name is Brooke Mueller (29). And why she said "yes" is unbeknownst to me, and probably every clear-thinking person in America.

Honey, seriously, have you ever heard the saying, "You can't teach an old dog new tricks." If any dog knows about tricks, it's Charlie. And, I'm not talking about the "sit" and "fetch" kinda tricks. Well, maybe I am, I don't know what those Heidi Fleiss bitches got paid to do for him.

Any way, don't believe him when he says he was only in Heidi's "black book" because they are in the same bowling league.

Oh, and good luck with the Baby Mama Drama that is bound to come your way home girl.

No seriously, I wish you crazy kids the best of luck.

Crush of the Moment

Zac Efron

I'm not sure if crushing on Zac Efron makes me a craddle-robber or a lesbian. Dude looks purrty like a lady at times, don't 'cha think? I swear he wears blush. And check out his eyebrows! Can someone say "Anastasia?"

On another note, check out Zac's "Hairspray" co-star Queen Latifah at a recent premiere:

I thought she was P. Diddy's mother for a moment (see below).

Queen, save the wigs for the movie set. They ain't working anywhere else.

Headline

During my lunch minute at work I like to visit CNN.com to get an update on the news, and because its the only website that isn't blocked by my job's computer system.

I was skimming through the headlines, and saw this one mixed in with the usual murders and political news - "100-foot deep Andes lake disappears." Uh, what?!

So, I click on the link, and this is the first sentence:

"SANTIAGO, Chile (AP) -- A five-acre glacial lake in Chile's southern Andes has disappeared -- and scientists want to know why." No shit.

Can someone explain to me how a body of water disappears and this isn't headline news? Was it on the CNN crawl? I haven't seen anything mentioned all night on the news channels.

How friggin' careless about the environment are we that nature can disappear and we just shrug it off as if Britney showed her hoo-haa again?

You know who should be the most pissed? The couple that thinks they just bought lakeside property. Come move-in day ... Where's the f--king lake!

Dear Joan

Dear Joan,

I hate to break it to you, but it's 2007, not 1985, and frosted pink lipstick is not in style any more.

I realize it worked on Knots Landing, but you've been rocking the same lipcolor for decades, and I ask that you please stop.

You are a beautiful woman, don't let the other sexpots from the 1980s get all the camera time (especially that bitch Victoria Principal! She is looking fantastic, and bringing in the dough with her skin care line).

You're fab, just follow the rule that your lips should not be the same color as your skin, and you'll be fine.

The Name Game

One of my nephews has a prom coming up, and his date's name is ... well, let's just say for her next birthday her parents should just get her a pole.

I'm sure she's a nice girl. But, what is up with parents naming their kids, especially their daughters, names that belong on the marquee at Scores?

Girls already have a bad rep, especially blondes, when it comes to intelligence. Naming your daughter Bambi isn't going to help her get taken seriously on job interviews.

I'm not leaving any one out here. There are parents that name their kids with names that are meant for grandparents. Have you ever seen a popular kindergartener named Harriet? I rest my case.

Parents, think about what you're gonna do to your unborn children. Think before you name. The only people that can carelessly name their children are celebrities, and if you're reading my blog, chances are you're not a celebrity.

Reality Shows

I love "So You Think You Can Dance." Not just because there are lots of young, sweaty man-boys writhing on stage, undulating their bodies and questioning their sexuality. Not at all. What I appreciate is the fact that the judges are relative nobodies in Hollywood that actually know what they are talking about.

I'm tired of shows like American Idol and America's Got Talent with judges that wouldn't know talent if it kicked them in the winky. Well, except for Paula, I love me some "Cold Hearted Snake." And anyone who says they didn't rock to "Straight Up," or watch the video for "Rush, Rush" over and over sits on a throne of lies. Lies I say!

The judges on "So You Think You Can Dance" are actually dancer/choreographers, so they know what's up. Except for the English dude, who is he? Is it a prerequisite to have an English guy on the judges panel?

Kyle XY

I'm sure you have seen the posters/advertisements for the show "Kyle XY." I've never watched the show, you know why? Because it takes more than a picture of a confused guy without a belly button to get me to watch a show.

A missing belly button, really? Is that supposed to pique my interest? How about a missing leg? Have you ever met Johnny One Leg? Well, I have. And, boy does he have some stories.

Crush of the Moment

Craig. Daniel Craig.

I realize that I'm 20 years late in watching "Casino Royale," the latest James Bond flick. But, I was never a 007 enthusiast. However, things change.

Daniel Craig is hot. I throughly enjoyed watching him use his big gun.

And, really, is there anything better than a man in tailored clothes? I think not.

If you're looking for a new Bond Girl, I'm right here. My name can be: Coco Nutts, or Sandy Syphillis (guess what my weapon is).

Wiggy Wiggy

What is up with movies that have amazing special effects, but the wigs that the actors wear look like shit?

I don't understand how you can make it look like the Silver Surfer is actually flying through a New York City sky, but Jessica Alba's hair looks like an ash-blonde rats nest. Jessica Alba is hot, couldn't they have done without the wiggy?

On another note, do you really expect the audience to believe that Jessica Alba's character wants to marry Mr. Fantastic? He's like 20 years older than her.

Random Thought

Why is David Hasselhoff a judge on "America's Got Talent"?

Oh, and as for this picture I found, I never in my life wanted to see puppies abused in such a way.

What the Hell of the Moment

What the hell is up with people wanting my dog to play with their dog during our morning walk?

People, it's 7am, I'm dressed for work and wearing heels! Do you not notice that my dog is an extremely energetic and nosey German Shepherd? Throw me a bone.

I apologize if I don't appear friendly and eager to allow my beast of a dog to pounce on your little dog. But, seriously, it's a work day. I realize you may have the time to frolic, but I don't. The morning walk is just for Breeze to do her business. If you want your dog to play with her, meet up with her at the dog run at around 3pm.

And, stop giving me dirty looks when I make Breeze turn the other way so as to avoid your dog. I don't want dirt on my shoes and dog hair on my clothes. It's nothing personal. Thanks.

Tragedy

Barry Gibb was on American Idol yesterday, and he was wearing a sheer black button-down shirt. Why Barry? Why? Sure you were hot in the 70's, maybe even the 80's, but there comes a time when a Has-Been-Hottie needs to face Father Time. And that, Barry, means dressing your age and cutting your damned hair. We get it, you have a good head of hair. And yes, it was cute when it blew in the wind during the Staying Alive video as you and your brothers sauntered down the streets like ruffians. But, the hair isn't cute any more. Here's an idea, you want to look younger, how about you shave off that Grizzly Adams beard you've been rocking since 1973. Just a thought. As for the clothing, I have no desire to see 60-something year old chest. And no, 60-something year old chest does not look sexy underneath sheer clothing.

Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned!

Take heed fellas, and realize that eventually all of your skeletons will pop out of the closet with a collective "Heeeeeeeey!" And, in the case of Dina McGreevey (estranged wife of former NJ governor, and self-proclaimed "Gay-American," Jim McGreevey), skeletons, as well as her husband, came out of the closet.



Taking the opportunity to share her side of the story, Dina appeared on Oprah this afternoon to discuss the debacle that was her marriage, and to promote her new book ("Silent Partner"), of course! No one goes on Oprah without having written a book ... FYI. I hope blogs count :o/

Oprah asked the important questions, like "Did you know he was gay?," "Were there any signs?", and "Why in the hell were you smiling during Jim's 'outing' speech?" Oprah, honey, that was no smile. That was holding back the "crazy", that's what that was.

As can be seen in the above picture, that is not the smile of a content woman. That is the smile of, "Okay motherf--ker, you want me to play 'happy' for your press conference, I will. But, when we get home I'm going to pluck out your pubes, one by one. That's right, your pubes." Can you blame the woman? Her husband basically told her that the life she knew was a sham. He's lucky to be alive!

And, now Jim's is trying to get sole custody of the couple's young daughter. Uh, what? Dude, you didn't know if you were coming or going until 3 years ago, you gotta be kidding, right? And, he's accusing Dina of being in denial. No shit! Her life was shattered, and she has to make a new one. That takes time. Plus, do you really want to point the "denial" finger, Mr. I married 2 women had 2 children, but then went to dirty rest stops on the highway to mess with men because I didn't want people to know I was gay? If Dina's in denial, at least she's in it alone. You're ass brought a load of innocent people into your Denial Extravaganza. No fair.

The Oprah interview was entertaining, but I could tell Oprah wanted to shake Dina, or something. And, I agree. You were scorned, woman! Get angry! Get even! Get everything! But, no. Dina was civilized, and that is when I realized why Jim married her. She really is the perfect political wife. This woman dated Jim for about 5 years, was never invited to Jim's parents home. And, she was never allowed to meet Jim's first daughter. What! Now that deserves a slap!

Girl, what were you thinking? You married a man who flat-out had secrets ... were you that surprised when he dropped the homo-bomb on you? It's like you had the word "Gullible" written on your forehead. Honey, he saw you coming, and I say that with love.

On another note, where were Dina's friends during the courtship? A good set of sisters, or girlfriends, would have solved this mystery a long time ago. I can see my sister Sissy now, "Girl, whatchu mean he hasn't let you see his parents house? He's got problems." Then Dineen would roll out a blueprint of his parents' home and how we were going to break in and do a little pre-marital investigation. All the while, Tonya would be saying that what we were thinking about doing is wrong and we should stop. And, then Sissy and Dineen would agree and put the blueprint away ... until Tonya left the room. Sisters are great.

Chin Fuzz

I watch Dancing with the Stars. Let me know when you stop laughing, so I can continue ... you ready?

Two "stars" on the show are rocking a similar look, and I just don't get it.

Apolo Anton Ohno and Billy Ray Cyrus have chin fuzz. Why? Do you really think that is attractive? It's not.

You look like a vagina has grown on your face. And that, my friend, is something you do not need.

You are attractive men. The only time I want to see a man with chin fuzz is when I walk into a KFC ... Colonel Sanders, anyone?

I can understand Billy wanting to appear edgy and young for the Hannah Montana Disney crowd, but what the hell is Apolo's excuse? Other than he just started growing facial hair and he's just excited (he's like 22 years old).

Oh, and Billy please put down the flat iron. It will only lead to breaky ends, achy breaky ends. (Sorry, I just had to say that).

Peer Pressure is Alive and Well

News flash ... peer pressure does not end in high school. Last Friday I was out to dinner and drinks (lots and lots of drinks) with Dineen and Erin.

Now, I'm not gonna say what it is they pressured me into. But I will say this ...

HONEY, IT DID NOT TAKE MUCH PRESSURE! Tee, hee, hee!

So what if I was 3-sheets to the wind! I had fun ... I think. Well, hell, from what I remember I had fun, and that's what counts!

What the Hell of the Moment

What the hell is up with sushi being served at baseball games?

You read it correctly. Sushi was on the menu at Shea Stadium yesterday. Hot dogs, I get. Cheese fries, make sense. Beer and soda, stadium staples. But, sushi? And I love sushi! But at a baseball game? It just doesn't seem right. Who the hell are we trying to impress?

If you don't like a NY hotdog (made from God's knows what type of meat) than you just shouldn't be at a baseball game. I'm all for being healthy, but the only people who should be worrying about their weight at a game are the players as they run the bases. I'm happy to sit my chunky ass down and eat a fatty snack and sugar-filled soda while the people I paid to see run and sweat. Thank you very much.

Et tu, Oprah!

After the horrific events that unfolded the other day at Virginia Tech, the media has done what it does best --- milk the situation for everything its worth. And, Oprah surprisingly joined the bandwagon.

Now, I agree that the public needs to know the pertinent information about what occurred. But, I do not need to see hours upon hours of the same videos, pictures, and interviews. What does that do for the public, really? It inevitably will cause the people who were there to relive it, and that doesn't help. And, it causes those who have experienced it from afar to vicariously relive it. That's not closure ... that's retraumatization.

News should be exactly what it is called ... new. So please stop showing me the same shit over and over again. Thank you.

My thoughts and prayers go out to all those affected by this senseless act of violence.

On another note, all day today the issue of motive has been discussed. Why did he do it? I'll tell you why ... BECAUSE HE WAS CRAZY! Plan and simple.

We don't need to dress "crazy" up. "Crazy" is fine by itself. "Crazy" is an entree that doesn't require a sidedish.

There, I saved CNN a few hours.

Jeepers Cats!

My sister Tonya sent me a forward with pictures of painted cats. Here are some of the pics:

Who in the hell paints their cats?

White people, that's who.

According to the forward, it costs about $15,000 to paint your cat.

What the #$%@!

There are people who have no food to eat, and we have people painting cats - something is just wrong with that.

I could understand if your cat asked you to paint them, but look at these animals ... they do not look like they are happy with their new looks.

The purple cat looks like a Skittle that was dipped in a hazardous material.

I appreciate the patriotism in the next cat, but what is that star in the middle of his forehead? A target?

As for the final cat, where are it's ears?

Random Thought

What is in asparagus that makes your pee-pee smell so weird? There! I said it!

Don't get me wrong, I don't sniff pee. But, when you eat asparagus, it is hard to not notice the sudden change in the air. What is it? I want to know. Educate me, please.

Critic's Corner: 300

I just finished watching a bootleg copy of "300," although on the DVD itself, it read, "Trescientos." In any case, I really have no idea what happened in the movie. All I know is that I saw a whole lot of writhing, sweaty, muscular abs. And, for that, "300" gets 4 stars.

I also want to give credit to the actress who played Leonides' wife (Lena Headey) because she had a furrowed brow the entire movie. Congratulations for not using Botox so that movie-goers could actually see emotion in your face. Nicole Kidman could learn a few things from you - her face is tighter than a drum. The only emotion she can portray at this point is constipation.

Bottom line, if you're in the mood to see a group of men with hot bods, wielding swords and stabbing eachother, this is the movie for you. Enjoy!

Crush of the Moment

Henry Cavill


Ugh, I can't even say anything.

He's just beautiful ... let's leave it at that.

Oh, and he's tall, and he has a British accent, and you can see him on Showtime's "The Tudors."

I need to go to Europe, this is ridiculous.

Por Favor, No Comer en la Funeraria

As many of you may know, my fire-cracker of a grandmother, Mariana, passed away a few weeks ago. The funeral home where her arrangements were made did a good job overall, but here are some areas in which they were lacking:

1. There was no office for the "office". When you walked in there was a desk, that's it. And, behind that desk was a lady wearing her funeral-best, which included a pair of Chinatown dollar-store slippers. She wore these fashionable slippers with socks. At least do my family the decency, and not wear socks with your slippers! Lady, this a funeral home, have some respect and put on some shoes. Forgive me if I don't appreciate you welcoming guests as though you are chilling on your front porch. In addition to the footwear, since the office was out in the open, so was the sign that read "All fees must be paid on the day of funeral service." Thank you for that. There was also a sign that said to not eat in the funeral chapel. Really? Because I wanted to bust out my bag of Onion Rings and pop open a bottle of Tropical Fantasy. Are people that tacky that a sign is needed? That is sad.

2. The funeral service was to begin at 3pm. Little did we know, but my grandmother was being prepared in the Bronx, although the funeral home is in Manhattan. Was my grandmother in the chapel an hour before guests were to arrive? No. My grandmother arrived at 2:30pm, and she was brought in through the front door. Just what arriving mourners need to see. My mother and I waited in an unused chapel while Flip Flop and her lackey prepped the area. As we waited, I comforted my mother with words like, "These idiots are cutting it pretty close, aren't they?"

3. On the board in the front area, they had a sign with my grandmother's name. They spelled it incorrectly by one letter. As my mother is telling Flip Flop this tidbit of information, the woman is making excuses for the mix up. Hey, shut the hell up and take your little fingers and put an "A" where you put an "I." Are you seriously going to argue with the daughter of the deceased about a friggin' letter? I think she knows how to spell her mother's name. And mom, you need to stop ... you tried to blame the spelling mishap on dad by saying, "Mi esposo no sabe, es americano." Oh no you didn't.

4. Eventually, I had to use the bathroom in the joint. When I went down there, what did I find? The casket gallery is right next to the bathroom! What the hell! Get a door and put a sign that says DO NOT ENTER, don't have that shit all exposed to everyone who goes down there to take a leak! Needless to say, I used the buddy method every time I went down there. That's right ... Dineen and I were potty-partners.

Now, the next thing I am going to discuss happened in the limo at the cemetery. I was in the limo with Papi, Aunt Cookie, cousin Lisa, my mother and grandma's sister Elsa. As we are sitting in the car waiting to get out to sit by the grave my mother and Elsa are discussing how the grave is in a very nice area. So then my mother says, "Oh yeah, Elsa, there is a plot in there for you too." SURPRISE! What the hell kind of out-of-nowhere statement is that, mom? Why don't you just tell the woman to jump in and try it out? Gotta love my mother.

How do you even appropriately thank someone for a gift like a cemetery plot? "Gee, Liz, um, thank you for thinking of me ... dead. You're really too kind."

Dumb Ass Move of the Moment

I hate to admit it, but I did something stupid last night.

My dog Breeze was barking, so I decided to use the scare tactic that always seems to work - putting the electric dog collar on her. Now before you get all PETA/Animal Rights on my ass, hear me out. We hardly ever use the electric charge, we just use the annoying sound option on the remote. But, if you knew Breeze, believe me, you would want to electrocute her!

In any case, I was putting the collar on her, but I didn't know if it was on. Well, honey, did I find out!

I unknowingly had my fingers on the electric prongs, and instead of hitting the annoying sound button, I hit the electric charge button ... WOAH! I jumped so high, high, high, I touched the sky, sky, sky and didn't think I was gonna come down until the 4th of July, ly, ly!

Needless to say, the collar was, in fact, on.

Please Stop

Please stop making overalls for adults. There is no reason why a grown ass person should be wearing that type of contraption. If you are a woman, the make you look pregnant. If you are a man, they make you look like Farmer Joe.

If you are not a farmer, there is no good reason for you to be parading around town in an outfit that is primarily rocked by toddlers.

Accept for you Sissy ... you look hot.

Crushes of the Moment

Jonas Armstrong

My crushes of the moment are two-fold. For one, I am now completely obsessed with BBC America and their Robin Hood series. At first I thought the guy who played Robin was unattractive and scrawny (Jonas Armstrong ). But, he has grown on me. I guess all that stealing from the rich/give to the poor crap does something for the ladies, 'cause it's working on me.

Next we have the fine specimen known as Kyle Schmid. He plays Henry the vampire on Lifetime's Blood Ties. He is hot. However, the last name "Schmid" is not. Honey, I'm not one for denying your culture and changing your last name, but if you're an actor and require something memorable ... Schmid ... hell, nevermind, it's memorable.

Kyle Schmid

Like White People Need Another Reason To Have A Party

Have any of you heard about the new fad? They are called Purity Balls, and they are basically gatherings where daughters pledge to their fathers that they will remain virgins until marriage.

So, in a nutshell, fathers are spending a lot of money for their daughters to dress-up, have a nice meal, and lie to them in front of witnesses.

Of course some daughters will actually honor their pledges. And those daughters are ugly ... just kidding! I'm not saying they are all lying whores. What I am saying is that when you're 12 years old, you don't know what the hell you're gonna want to do when you are 17 and confronted with Todd the captain of the football team.

A silly pledge that you read to your dad at the age of 12 is not going to matter when you have to opportunity to play "5 mintues in the closet" at your friend's house. I'm just sayin'.

Having a ball (no pun intended), in an attempt to keep your daughter pure seems a little extravagant. I know a cheaper way ... show her a picture of a vagina/penis infected with an STD. Betcha she'll be running in the other direction next time the boy next door wants to play Hide the Salami.

And what about having their sons make a pledge of purity? Last time I checked girls don't get pregnant by themselves! Why do girls have to take on the responsibility of keeping their goods on lockdown? Not fair! Not fair, I say!