Reckons of Crass Construction

Wordless Wednesday: Easier Than Getting The Operation

2011-03-30T20:18:00.000-04:00

(More)

Causes of Female Incontinence (everydayhealth.com)

Whoopi Admits To Smoking Weed Before My Oscar Speech! (ksfm.radio.com)

Look What The Cat Dragged In

2011-03-22T16:32:00.000-04:00

Okay, we don't have a cat. Which means some ravenous, blood thirsty, limb-from-limb stripping, totally heartless animal waited until we were asleep to attack this poor defenseless bird in our flower planter. It was all I could do to hold back a bloodcurdling scream after stumbling upon its withering carcass.

How would you like to encounter a scenario like this on your front porch? Definitely not good for the digestive system. Almost eight hours since I first laid eyes on it and I'm still feeling queasy.

Cleanup suggestions, anyone?

Bizarre and useless stuff for when you're bored out of your gourd

2010-07-22T05:33:00.001-04:00

I'm getting ready to go on a short vacation and began tying up loose ends. Emails, laundry, bills and the like, you know, the junk you don't want waiting for you when you return home. And then I realized I hadn't posted anything for today and probably won't post anything tomorrow.

It was time to hit the old Stumble to see if I could get the creative juices flowing. Darned if they didn't. Gosh, I really love this community. It's an easy way to enjoy the fruits of the Internet from a toolbar integrated seamlessly with any web browser. Just look at the bounty from tonight's haul:

I have no idea what this site is or how long anyone can stand staring at the kitty sound screen without being on some kind of hallucinogen. Turbo electric music and revolving cats meow more times than the average person can tolerate. Loads of fun until it starts to piss you off. Stop meowing already!

Stuff I don't want decorating my living room, or for that matter, anywhere near the bathroom. Great for people who love to knit and mount simulated animal remains on their walls.

The Book of Numbers is a delightful journey into existentialism and mind over matter. You must hang out long enough to have something happen before turning the page. Especially liked the woman in an old fashion bathing suit playing punch ball, but there's some other cool stuff with foreign money that will have you studying the book a lot longer than you may have planned.

Welcome to Celebrity Morgue, a place almost too gruesome for a picture illustration. Thirty celebrities laid out in state in all their picture glory for gazillions to gawk upon. Highlights include rare photos of Marilyn Monroe, Ted Bundy, and President Abraham Lincoln lying in state.

Hats of Meat is worth checking out just to see what kind of expensive meat people will waste by fashioning it into head gear. Ho ho ho.

At first I didn't get the point of Nose Hair eCard. Other than really seedy derelicts with nothing better to do than sit at a computer all day, who would want an eCard of curly nose hair? But then I realized you could associate the little sticklers with words, any words, and once I got plucking, I really went to town.

Extreme Pumpkins is more pulpy orange stuff than you’ll ever want to see in your lifetime, including pumpkin carving, pumpkin seeds, pumpkin patterns, pumpkin contests, pumpkin recipes, well, you get the idea. Best visited around Thanksgiving and Halloween.

A video of tiny porkers reacting to the sound of some crazy guy's interruptions is kinda cute. When the bozo starts singing, "They tried to make me go to rehab…" those cute fuzzy piglets can’t stop themselves from twitching. And it sure beats looking at kittens. Get those pigs an agent.

The Essex Mountain Sanatorium isn’t exactly celebrity rehab. The place is probably haunted, definitely creepy, and has oodles of wretched pictures, including clippings from "The Buzzer," a weekly newsletter for tuberculosis sufferers.

Totally Absurd Inventions is for people with waaaaay too much time on their hands. In addition to the patently absurd Gerbil Shirt, which, believe me, is stupid enough, this site houses the Hall of Fame of Extreme Uselessness. Inventions such as the Dimple Drill, Arm Mitten (complete with choking neck strap), and Butt Master (looking more like a torture device than cellulite reducer) could keep one engrossed for hours. Oh my.

odd

Wordless Wednesday #2

2010-07-21T13:55:00.001-04:00

gardening

Disappointment in the dumps and Alfred Hitchcock bird freakout

2010-07-20T19:00:00.000-04:00

Image via Wikipedia

Yesterday, I published a teaser for today's explanation of Sunday's "kick in the teeth," or basically ending the day feeling like a wrung out dishrag. That's quite a lot of temporal references for one sentence. I'm not sure I even understand.

Some of you may have returned to read this article because you're the type of person who enjoys juicy gossip, and/or can't stand suspense, and/or turns to the last page of a murder mystery after reading the first few pages. I'm fascinated by this quality of human nature, especially since it's shared by so many.

As the youngest of three children, when it came to other people's business, I was strictly on a "need to know" basis. Unless it somehow involved me, no one ever told me anything worth knowing about, and if any information managed to slip out, it was generally stripped of its juicy embellishments.

That didn't change in grade school. Gradually, I learned how to navigate the world of secrets. Either coax it out of people or cultivate an air of indifference. Coaxing rarely ever succeeded, leaving projection of an air of indifference my first course of action. In the end, I either honestly didn't care or succeeded in making people think I didn't care, in which case, they would often spill the beans. Smart, right?

Do I see you projecting an air of indifference?

Okay, okay, I'll stop. For those of you who showed up for the salient details, here's what went down:

Tweeting mournfully, the mate of a wild bird that got stuck between our basement ceiling and kitchen wall continued to stake out the house. It commandeered the front yard, filling it with a rather creepy Alfred Hitchcock-esque feeling. Instantly, my garden high fizzled into thin air.

A pre-arranged trip to Chicago turned into a fiasco as housing and transportation possibilities fell through. Stuck scrambling for a car rental and hotel reservations, I still feel like nobody cares. Way to make a gal feel welcome.

Someone who I thought would always have my back abandoned me. 'Nuff said.

Gardening provides calming diversion from kick in the teeth

2010-07-19T03:34:00.003-04:00

Have you ever started off a day full of hope and promise only to crawl back into bed feeling like a limp ineffectual dishrag? Better yet, a limp ineffectual dishrag that's been wrung out and reused so many times it's been tossed in the garbage? That pretty much describes my Sunday ... for many reasons which I don't care to recall.

But before I descend into the bowels of darkness, I'd like to dwell for a moment on what might have been.

As I awoke to a clear blue Sunday sky, birds were chirping, sunshine shined, and all appeared right with the world. I left the house silently cheering tolerable heat and humidity, actually looking forward to watering my garden. It was the first morning in quite a while I can remember not wanting to hose myself down. That in itself was reason to celebrate.

With temperatures in the triple digits, my garden isn't exactly the pride of the neighborhood. Many plants are already showing signs of late August -- scorched leaves, dried up blooms, and nibble marks from desperate animals. I figure they have to be desperate because they've ruined plants untouched in the past. For what reason I cannot imagine. The plants don't look particularly tasty. I can't even joke about something in the drinking water because water levels are so low, Maryland authorities may issue restrictions. I'm doing my part by watering manually, which, to some degree, accounts for the "brownage."

It also comes with notable sacrifice. In one area too private to specify, I have over 12 mosquito bites within a three-inch radius. That's a heavy price to pay for environmental consciousness. Those nasty buggers sure know how to go to town.

Anyway, there I was becoming one with the foliage, enjoying the sights and sounds of an otherwise empty and quiet backyard. Insect legs rubbed together, beginning softly then exploding in a group crescendo. Birds chirped as they headed toward the sound of rushing spray. Some ventured close enough to enjoy splash-off from the greenery. I stood as still as a scarecrow, gently encouraging them to partake. One bird accepted gingerly, all the while locking her one-eyed gaze in my direction.

So calming, quiet and idyllic, I returned home feeling like I could conquer the world. Alas, it was not meant to be.

Details forthcoming tomorrow ...

gardening

Flashback Friday recalling bounty of Artscape

2010-07-16T12:35:00.000-04:00

Image by Spewker via Flickr

Penny, an army wife and my friend at I Could Be Fake, is running a Flashback Friday Bloghop, which I've decided to try. Why not? I was planning on blogging about Artscape anyway.

Here goes.

The last time I went to Baltimore's Artscape, one of the biggest free art shows in America, if not THE biggest, I wasn't expecting very much. A few outdoor exhibits, some local vendors, maybe some interactive play gardens, and of course, the usual free concert performances and indoor theater. Boy was I ever wrong.

The festival is so big, it now covers a huge swath of Mt. Royal Avenue, from the first MICA building near North Avenue, all the way down past the University of Baltimore, and from there it shoots off in two different directions -- one headed south toward the Meyerhoff, the other going north toward Penn Station. Wow. If I had known beforehand how much Artscape has grown, I would've gone down there the day of its opening and returned for a second day.

One day isn't enough to enjoy all of this baby's bounty. Free street performances, indoor theater, movie screenings, art exhibits, art vendors, festival vendors, a children's interactive village, free food and water giveaways, gobs of food vendors, reality challenges, non-profit giveaways, free concerts ... the list goes on. I'm not gushing about Artscape just because I love Baltimore and its quirky artist community. This annual festival is truly unique. Everyone should experience it at least one time.

Last year, while wandering through the festival looking somewhat like an oversized Alice down the rabbit hole, I happened across an interactive karaoke booth, Mini-Okee, and knew I had to give it a whirl. The performances would be posted on YouTube, quite an incentive to brave the long line. Who doesn't like to see how they look on video? Obviously a lot of people, but not I. Yes. I'm a real ham.

After viewing this piece of amateur "American Idol" fodder, I immediately knew I had made an absolute fool of myself. How I wish I had chosen silly over style. Check out this guy in all his glory. So funny I could bust a gut.

But those are the breaks when one goes for the gusto. I'm looking forward to a chance to redeem myself, though probably not at Artscape, which opens today.

events

Grab My New Button

2010-07-15T17:06:00.000-04:00

I have a new button and I'm taking it for a test drive. If it shows up in this article that means it's good to go.

Like what you see? Grab this baby from my sidebar.

And thanks. Good bloggers need to stick together.

New Charles Town Races commercial boasts 5,000 of the newest sluts

2010-07-15T01:00:00.022-04:00

De Charles Town ladies sing dis song, Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De Charles Town commercial done went wrong, Oh, doo-dah day!

Gwine to dance all night!
Gwine to dance like nuts!
I'll bet my money they had no idea,
Somebody said they sluts.

Plenty of eyebrows are being raised at this commercial for Charles Town Races and Slots. It's airing in all major Baltimore markets. Either leathery baritone guy needs diction lessons or someone done insulted de Charles Town broads.

That one at the very end looks especially peeved.

bloopers

Wordless Wednesday

2010-07-14T01:03:00.000-04:00

George Clooney lavish wedding ceremony

2010-07-13T02:48:00.001-04:00

Oh how I love the story tease from infotainment show, Entertainment Tonight.

"George Clooney's Italian I-Do's."

"Academy Awards on the lake."

"Clooney celebration pics from the wedding in Italy."

Just enough to reel you in and make you sit through Mel Gibson's racist tirade.

Clooney married? No way. No how. How could I not have heard about it? I'd been catching up on email and news headlines since late yesterday afternoon. Surely celebrity news of such momentous proportions would have shown up in every gossip blog and tweet this side of the Mississippi.

Well, my lovelies, looks like I've been had.

Yes, there was a wedding, but it wasn't Clooney's. The lavish weekend wedding of actors John Krasinski and Emily Blunt did take place NEAR Clooney's private villa at Villa D'este on Lake Como, and Clooney and girlfriend Elisabetta Canalis were among the glitterati in attendance, but gorgeous George and elegant Elisabetta did not tie the knot.

I should have known something was up by the way Mary Hart kept batting her eyelashes. Too flirtatious, like going out of her way to stop anyone from clicking the remote.

celebrities

Jim Brochin campaign message worth sweating record summer temperatures

2010-07-12T00:01:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, I stumped door to door for Maryland State Senator Jim Brochin, who is facing a few challengers in his bid for re-election. We got so sweaty going door to door, Jim offered to buy us drinks.

I think Brochin is the kind of legislator Annapolis can't afford to lose. Bright, personable, fiscally conservative, progressive on the environment and matters of social justice, and willing to put his money where his mouth is, especially when it comes to balancing the State budget, Brochin is one of the few Democrat incumbents willing to buck the political machinery.

He said no to O'Malley tax hikes and, in retaliation, got bumped to the back of the bus. And in a striking "comedy of errors," Brochin helped thwart Governor O'Malley in his effort to repeal the death penalty.

For the most part, Brochin votes the way a majority of his constituents favor. Anyone willing to vote the will of his constituency is okay by me.

I love how the Fire Fighters union has held back on endorsing Brochin, not because his voting record is out of whack or because his conduct is off base, but because they don't know who he's endorsing for Baltimore County Executive. Should that really matter? Brochin is State Senator for the 42nd District, not a pol for county government. Now that the union has backed Councilman Joe Bartenfelder, their hesitation reeks of strong arming. Or maybe it's just a reaction to The Teachers Association and Laborer's Union endorsements of rival Councilman Kevin Kamenetz.

It'll be interesting to see whether a fire fighters endorsement for Brochin is contingent upon taking sides.

One thing Brochin and I strongly agree upon: 2008 was the last time we'll ever trust a presidential candidate. Too much has happened to sink the message of hope floated by the Obama campaign. If I knew then what I know now ... well ... let's leave that for another election.

politics

Friday flip-offs first edition

2010-07-09T00:35:00.001-04:00

Gigi over at Kludgy Mom has a whole lot of website going on. Fun, creative, nurturing, and talented, Gigi has a place where moms feel comfortable dropping in, dropping out, meeting like-minded bloggers and sharing ideas.

But not all is sunshine and gumdrops at the site, perhaps the kludgy part of the name hinting at a darker, unhappier side of motherhood. In that vein, Gigi started a bloghop called Friday Flip-Offs, the title a tad more sinister than actual posts. At first, I liked the idea of joining a cluster of rants, but then chickened out, figuring I could rant at my own Carnival of Rants.

But then I saw Gigi's flip-offs again and decided this time around I really would give it a whirl. Besides, I promised I would do it and a good Do Bee never goes back on a promise.

To Mother Nature: You low-life dung-eating crack whore! How dare you shake and bake my neighborhood like a piece of Kentucky Fried extra crispy. My garden is wilting, my clothes are so sweat-drenched I have to change every other hour, and our thermostats are on 80 (!!!) because my husband thinks it will lower our energy bills. Meanwhile, no one wants to do house chores or run errands because they're too dehydrated, nauseated and just plain uncomfortable, despite drinking buckets of water.

To Late Night Re-Runs: Are all of you suits still on vacation? Every show a re-run for more than two weeks and the evening news still hawks the lineup like it's must watch TV. Never mind that I saw the program only a few months ago. I'm on the verge of permanently switching to "That 70s Show." At least have a heart and run something from last year. Maybe I won't remember.

To our 19-year old: Clean up your room. It smells. And I think I saw something in the corner starting to sprout legs.

To Entenmann's: I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. No really, I hate what happens to my body whenever I partake of the sweets that pop out of your ovens. Never darken my door again.

To the squinty-eyed checkout girl: You give me bad service whenever I use your line at the grocery store. You spend more time looking up prices for the vegetables, counting the money, giving back change, in fact, everything takes you more time. It's gotten to the point where I avoid you like the plague, even when you may have the shortest line. Why? Because I know the minute you wait on me your line will slow like molasses. No thank you.

humor

Telltale signs pointed to prison for Lindsay Lohan before sentencing hearing

2010-07-08T18:54:00.000-04:00

In the days leading up to actress Lindsay Lohan's now infamous probation revocation hearing, anyone bothering to visit her humble abode would have realized the poor dear was headed for prison.

For one thing, her apartment was overflowing with the telltale signs. Empty tequila bottles. Half-eaten Chinese food all over the living room. Nothing but light beer and lemons in the refrigerator. A passed-out guy on an unmade bed, spittle gluing his face to the headboard. Open nail polish bottles littering the vanity.

And some of the most unconventional post-it notes taped to the mirror in her bathroom ...

No wonder her lawyer recently dumped her.

Disclaimer: This story is based on true events, but otherwise bears no relationship to the truth. The writing style is commonly referred to as satire. Sorry to disappoint anyone who thought they were about to hit the motherload.

lindsay lohan

Today's Linky: Suddenly Sandy and the Sunhine Award

2010-07-07T17:35:00.005-04:00

I won the Sunshine Award!!

Had to delay Today's Linky to tend to some personal matters. A quick stop at Tarjay (that's Target to all the non-culturally elite) for more undergarments (one can never have enough knee-length slips and jockey shorts), a pity pit stop at the corner BP (still the cheapest gas in town and getting cheaper due to ongoing impromptu boycotts), a drop off at my favorite dry cleaners (three garments for the price of two and so conscientious about stain removal), then on to a hastily scheduled appointment at a local institution of higher learning (a possible job prospect ... still working out the fine details).

Sometimes I even amaze myself with all the balls I keep up in the air. In 100 plus degree weather, no less (that's Farenheit, in case you're interested). You'd think with all that snow we had this past winter, Mother Nature might try to make it up to us with tolerable summer temperatures, but no, the old bat had to whack us with an unbearable heat wave causing relatively healthy people to drop like flies.

None of this, I might add, has anything to do with Today's Linky, which is more like twelve linkies because it involves a meme that I may or may not be able to perpetuate. I'm not sure if the blogs I've selected will even want to participate or display the award they're about to receive. They don't seem the type to get gushy about accolades nor engage in PDA with random blogs coming out of the woodwork, ostensibly seeking deeper, more personable connections.

Maybe I'm over thinking this.

Hey, I'm all for memes, especially when implemented for good, that is, to wisely promote blogs of inherent worth and purpose. There's nothing worse than be on the receiving end of a meme whose sole objective is to amass more followers and awards for blogs with no reason d'etre other than to amass more followers and awards (okay, there are things that worse, but you get the idea).

I don't want any of the following blogs to think I'm a slimy shill trying to earn brownie points by including them in this meme. I certainly don't feel that way about the blog who unexpectedly gave me the award.

So let me shout it from the rooftops. I have won the Sunshine Award, my very first, which is very exciting to a blogger like me (it means you like me, you really like me). There is something strangely sentimental and particularly heart-warming in winning an award I didn't even know existed, let alone compete for, especially when it pops up out of the blue like a monkey with a banana jones and you're wearing the color yellow

I humbly accept and am grateful to Suddenly Sandy, a domestic goddess extraordinaire(thank you, Roseanne Barr for introducing that phrase into the Lexicon) for passing this award on to me. Sandy blogs about her 3-year old toddler, Wordpress doo-dads, bloghops, giveaways, and personal tidbits. Sandy will forever be remembered in my heart for this magnanimous gesture, one with no rhyme or reason, simply sunshine, although with temperatures as high or higher than those in Tempe, Arizona, I'm not sure how much more sunshine I can stand.

"The Sunshine Award is awarded to bloggers whose positivity and creativity inspire others in the blogging world."

Here are the rules ...
1. Put the award on your blog and/or within your post.
2. Pass the award on to twelve bloggers.
3. Link to the nominees within your post.
4. Let them know they received this award by commenting on their blog.
5. Share the love and the link to the person from whom you received this award

In that regard, here are twelve blogs I like to visit and comment upon. I hope you will like them too:

A Life So Lovely
Accidental Baby Maker
Daddy Papersurfer
Dave's Daily T-Shirts
Kludgy Mom
Life As A Cuban American Mom
My Neighbor's Grass
Nolie's Place
The Good, The Bad, The Worse
The Snee
The Southern Jackass
Vent

weblog

Baltimore Inner Harbor 4th of July fireworks up close and personal - Part II

2010-07-06T03:25:00.000-04:00

If pictures say a thousand words, then videos say a million.

Enjoy!

fireworks

Baltimore Inner Harbor 4th of July fireworks up close and personal - Part I

2010-07-05T04:51:00.001-04:00

On a spur of the moment, we decided to go downtown to see fireworks at Baltimore's Inner Harbor. Hadn't done that in years and decided it was worth checking out locations along Lancaster Street rather than try to horn in on the masses.

We found a free parking spot almost right away, somewhat of a tight fit, but didn't care. Proximity to an amazing vantage point for the fireworks far outweighed any possibility of being towed. Besides, so close to launch time, who was going to mind if my car jutted beyond a No Parking sign?

After a riveting experience on the waterfront, I'm all poop decked out. Needless to say, Part I of my downtown 4th of July celebration is a pictorial. More to come. Hang tight.

fireworks

Faint Friday smashing free for all

2010-07-02T00:01:00.008-04:00

You've heard about Wordless Wednesday? Well, welcome to Faint Friday. Faint because there's video involved, provided that you have a high tolerance for complete and utter boredom.

Is there a story behind all the smashing and mashing? Yes. But first you'll have to wade through the pictorial:

jobs

New blogger share buttons all the rage

2010-07-01T12:30:00.000-04:00

We interrupt your usual blase Thursday afternoon for an important announcement.Blogger Buzz: New Share Buttons now come in assorted pretty colors and the all important goo.gl URL shortener for all your Twitter tweets. Easy to install with only a slight adjustment to your blog design.

Now if they could just invent an easy way to do trackbacks, their hosting platform might give Wordpress pause.

The Carnival of Rants

2010-07-01T02:48:00.000-04:00

I'm happy to report that the first edition of a Carnival of Rants is finally up and running. Yay.

I wasn't expecting so many submissions. Seriously, it was a little overwhelming. Thankfully, the blog carnival site is offering something new called "Insta-Carnival" where they basically do all the leg work for you and all you have to do is copy and paste the HTML into your own site.

Some of the submissions didn't fit the description of the Carnival and/or did not link back to this site, unfortunately. Yup. Only two requirements. I guess that was too much for some people to handle.

Of course, I'm hoping they'll submit again and that we get even more submissions from people who like to moan and complain. The more the merrier as far as I'm concerned.

The Carnival of Rants

carnival of rants

Reality Whore: roadside pitstop

2010-06-29T17:50:00.000-04:00

The previous issue of "Reality Whore" can be found at the link. Enjoy!

REALITY WHORE

by Cheryl Taragin

humor

Virgin blames customs and other USA Today headlines blues

2010-06-25T00:10:00.001-04:00

humor

Hot sexy videos are a scream

2010-06-24T18:57:00.000-04:00

I mean that in the nicest way possible.

Katy Perry's "California Gurls" in Candy Land extravaganza may still be number one on Billboard, but it's Jackie Hoffman who knows how to make fans scream with delight. Her madcap parody of Lady Gaga's "Alejandro" is one for the ages.

All ages. Including Grandpa.

Source

humor

Today's Linky: post-it notes Wednesday

2010-06-23T17:00:00.071-04:00

Back in pre-school, one of my teachers labled me "too bossy." Right from the start, I was a definite troublemaker, a rebel hellbent on doing things my way, in my own time. Little has changed.

These days, I'm seeing lots of post-it notes around the bloggerhood, specifically a whole bunch of articles with nothing but post-it notes. They call this shared weekly ritual "Post-It Note Tuesday," and as the title suggests, one is more likely to read such articles on Tuesdays rather than Wednesdays.

Until now.

You see, by posting my own pithy posties in the middle of the week, I'll be killing two birds with one stone. Not only will I get to march to the beat of a different drum, which frankly is all I ever do, but also, I'll be able to bestow the honor of Today's Linky on the handy-dandy site that started the trend: Superstickies.

Hooray for stickies! I've had a blast creating notes I'd like to post on people's foreheads.

weblog

Reality Whore: let the road trip begin

2010-06-21T03:28:00.001-04:00

Happy Monday, everyone!

I hope all the fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, grandfathers .... oh ... you get the idea, enjoyed a pleasant Fathers Day. And to all you hard-working, fun-loving, treat-your-kids-right fathers out there, from the bottom of my heart (and I truly mean this), I hope you received everything you deserve and more this past Fathers Day. Being a father these days is rough business. Your loved ones may not tell you enough, but I'm sure they appreciate all the wonderful and thoughtful things you do. Give yourselves a big pat on the back!

In honor of Fathers Day 2010, I've decided to run the second installment of my fledgling comic strip, Reality Whore. The first installment can be found at the link. Enjoy!

REALITY WHORE
by Cheryl Taragin

Read the next issue of "Reality Whore" at the link.

comics

Social Parade Follower Friday keeps starting earlier

2010-06-17T17:33:00.000-04:00

Hehe. This blog hop keeps start earlier. But this time I am prepared.

weblog

Blogger Buzz: Blogger Template Designer Now Available To Everyone

2010-06-17T12:32:00.001-04:00

Oooo, there is a new template design feature at Blogger. Fancy. I was just getting used to the old dashboard when they pulled out the new bells and whistles. But it all looks very nice. If you are bloggoing on a boring template, you may want to check out this new feature.

Blogger Buzz: Blogger Template Designer Now Available To Everyone

As for me, I'm sticking with the old design. It's part of my branding. Too late to become new-fangled.

I have a huge .... linky

2010-06-17T02:46:00.002-04:00

If you've subscribed to this blog -- and not too many people have -- you may have noticed the Tuesday and Wednesday lineups sorely lacking in the content department. No "Today's Linky," no "Random Internet Crapola," not even a new blog post until very late Wednesday afternoon.

Well, Tuesday was quite busy around here. Totally threw off my schedule.

I'm all pooped out and very much in need of a good night's sleep. Much as I hate to resort to shallow-pretending-to-be-trendy follow-me gimmicks, my schedule has left me little alternative. Tomorrow is my only free day to take care of errands, including shopping for Father's Day and visiting an acquaintance who recently lost her 20-something son. Very sad.

I've created a blog-hop called "I have a huge ___________," asking readers to fill in the blank by joining the Linky. It's ~~only good until midnight tonight and then it is no more~~ good until the end of 2010 or until 25 people join, whichever comes first.

If you like the idea, hop aboard. The worst that can happen is you'll be the only ~~sucker~~ blogger optimistic enough to put your blog on the line and perhaps cause your friends to wonder whether you've gone off the deep end. Then again, by entering the Linky, your blog could be in on the ground floor of an awesome opportunity. Here's how to join"

1. Write a blog post linking to this article. As seems to be accepted practice, entries unaccompanied by a linking blog article will be summarily deleted.

2. Add your blog to the "I have a huge..." Linky below by naming whatever you have that is huge (I have a huge .... what?). Post the article URL that links to this article as your link

3. Leave a comment here AND on the blog entry directly above yours.

4. Subscribe to at least one other blog in the Linky (no pressure to subscribe here even though it would be GREATLY appreciated).

Allow me to get the ball rolling. I have a huge rear end, and I'm not just saying that. Eat your heart out, Kim Kardashian.

links

Don't let Droopy Dog face behind gun counters

2010-06-16T20:53:00.001-04:00

Old news and other oddities in the world of Internet retail. People are more likely to buy merchandise from happy avatars rather than sad.

Duh. Did we really need a research study to tell us that?

In a 2007 study involving an animated human face nicknamed "Baldi," an Ohio State University professor proved that people are more likely to buy products from happy digital characters than from those who "frowned" or appeared "sad."

Discounting other possible negative influences such as Baldi's cue ball head and eyebrows in the shape of mutant spermatozoa, Li Gong, assistant professor of communication, concluded "that digital characters might be better merchants if they act consistently happy, even if the products they're selling—such as novels—are heart-wrenchingly sad."

This waste of time and valuable resources also mentioned that participants had an overall lukewarm reaction to Baldi, meaning, regardless of robotic expression, people are more likely to purchase products from actual people over Sims.

This brings to mind my reaction to botoxed TV newscasters smugly describing murderous rampages in god forsaken parts of wherever. I can never decide if I'm more creeped out by news of massive human suffering or the sight of frozen waxen flesh describing human suffering. Something about the disconnect flips an emotional switch in the pit of my stomach.

Next thing I know, I'm watching Jon Stewart and mindlessly surfing the Internet. One of these days, I'm going to find a way to do both simultaneously on the same electronic contraption.

But getting back to this insipid study, imagine for a moment a nondescript sales counter manned by two almost identical sales clerks. One projects the image of a happily contented Stepford wife and the other looks like the human equivalent of Droopy Dog. Both are well-groomed, perfectly pitched and pleasantly scented. Who do you choose to help you decide which AK-47 to purchase?

Okay, bad choice of merchandise. Make that a pair of orthopedic flats. Same concept. The product is a real downer. Which sales clerk do you approach to wait on your smelly bunions?

Right. Stepford zombie. Because deep down, although Droopy Dog and smelly bunions go together like spewing oil and the Gulf Coast, subconsciously no one wants to mix their shopping experience with even a whiff of negativity, and that holds true all the more when shopping for items less than, shall we say, "happy."

Unless, of course, it's Jon Stewart rocking a droopy-dog-face behind the counter.

funny

Tossing my cussing entry into the fantastic cuss challenge

2010-06-14T17:28:00.003-04:00

Today I'm entering the "Fantastic Cuss Challenge" posted at Numbers Not Invited, not because I'm particularly prone to spurt cuss-laden vernacular or easily swayed by the lure of cussing contest prizes, but because I'm a cussing sucker for innovative, outside-the-box ideas connecting new readers to relatively unknown but spunky as cuss blogs.

The idea behind the challenge is cussing simple:

To enter, just post a blog entry using "cuss" in place of all swear words and leave a comment with the link to it below; you can also tweet to enter and see below for more ways to earn extra ballots!

Okay, so I'm probably only going to tweet the hashtag #CussYeah once otherwise my friends over at Twitter will probably think I'm cussing crazy, and besides how many times can you cussing tweet the same thing over and over before cuss-eating people start flagging your cussing tweets as awkward and irrelevant? Better to play it on the safe side and exercise cussing restraint.

Oh cuss! The cussing light bulb in my overhead lamp just died again. That will be the cussing third time this month I've had to change that made-in-cuss-wan piece of crap. I should search online for something more reliable, maybe some kind of laptop attachment I can cussing plug in and forget about. Although then I might have to deal with a cuss for brains, non-English speaking, foreign customer service representative. Who can understand those cussing people anyway? Does everything have to be cussing outsourced these days?

Cuss it all to cuss. I'll just stick with what I cussing have. A piece of cuss.

By the way, I don't even want the cussing prizes for this challenge. I've seen "The Fantastic Mr. Fox" and while I loved it, loved it, cussing loved it, I didn't place it on my list of classics. Movies I can watch over and over again are reserved for the likes of well-written rom-coms, action adventures, and films that air so many times on television no one has to own the DVD. Stuff like "The Wizard of Oz," "The Ten Commandments," "Raiders of the Lost Ark," "Braveheart," "Pretty Woman," "When Harry Met Sally," "Annie Hall," "Terminator," "Groundhog Day," etc. and so forth. We already have so many cussing DVDs taking up space in every cussing orifice of this house, we might reach cussing overload with a new addition. Also, the cussing Chick-Fil-A prize holds no allure whatsoever. I follow dietary restrictions that don't include processed meat from cussed-up chickens.

Do I sound cussing presumptuous about the prizes in this challenge? Because I'm sure as cuss not. At least not the last time I cussing checked.

Cuss it!

contests

What you did this weekend and other stuff that makes my skin crawl

2010-06-14T04:02:00.002-04:00

I'm noticing that a lot of other ~~mothers who might go out of their freakin minds if they didn't blog~~ Mommy bloggers like to start off their week by writing a recap of their weekend activities -- what they did, who they saw, where they changed their kid's diaper, how much alcohol they consumed to get past a random in-law visit, that sort of thing.

All fine and good if you like looking at pictures of people you'll never meet, watching videos of places you don't want to visit, and reading mundane stories that go on ad nauseum divulging intimate details you couldn't give a flying fig about. I don't mean to be cruel, but honestly, how many readers are actually interested in little Johnny's trip to the barbershop or baby Megan's temper tantrum in the middle of a shopping mall?

Just a minute, Megan, while Mommy takes out her flip camera to record you outside of Chick-fil-A kicking on the floor and screaming at the top of your lungs. This baby is going right up on YouTube. A little louder now, brat, like you really mean it.

Who has time to wade through this blather?

Obviously, not me. I come from the read 'em and comment in under five minutes school of blogging. If I can't read a fellow Mommy blogger article in under four minutes, I'm moving on.

Nothing personal against these bloggers, but unless I'm researching an article, I don't have the luxury to spend more than five minutes on any given blog. I'm too busy surfing and commenting, reciprocating and reaching out, sending out resumes and returning phone calls and emails, doing laundry and washing dishes, cleaning counter tops my kids didn't bother to wipe, etc. and so forth. I don't have the time or desire to slog through endless weekend drivel.

Speaking of which, I suppose you're too busy to read my weekend recap so I'll condense it plus do you the favor of omitting reams of pointless video and insipid camera capture.

Let's see .... I made a scrumptious four-course lunch, entertained a fun group of company, watched the new "Alice in Wonderland" and "The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnussus" on DVD blue ray, celebrated the marriage of or friends' daughter, called the exterminator about a chirping noise inside our kitchen walls (more about this tomorrow), and played over two hours of Bananagrams. Whoop-de-doo!

Don't get me wrong. It's wonderful to share our lives with one another, but where do we draw the line? Allowing strangers to gawk at pictures of our children, disclosing intimate details of arguments we had with our husbands, posting video of ourselves in revealing lounge wear -- it's all TMI to me.

I hope the next time certain Mommies get the urge to ramble on and on about every lame detail of their lives, they'll take pity on fellow bloggers like me. People who are only too happy to connect with them, but also want to maintain an aura of distance.

Save all that intimate crap for someone who frankly gives a damn.

weblog

Social Parade Follower Friday will win friends and influence people

2010-06-11T03:05:00.001-04:00

Last week, I joined Social Parade Follower Friday, a friendly blog-hop created at Smart and Trendy Moms for bloggers who want to link, find new blogs, and develop new friendships.

I'm sorry to say that I only had time to visit the first five bloggers (my computer is so slow). They were lovely, really, leaving comments and joining my communities after I had visited their blogs and done likewise.

There was a lot of "I'll scratch your back, you scratch mine" going on with the hop, which is fine for the first five bloggers. After that, it all became a big fuzzy blur.

My fellow blog-hoppers are nice and everything, but maybe I'm not into sites whose sole purpose in life is giving away stuff to get more followers. Nothing personal. That shouldn't diminish the awesome blogs which actually do have something to say and there were a few. I'm hoping to find more this second time around.

Unfortunately, I am not as well-positioned on the list as I would like for this second parade. So why, you may ask, if I am about to become #124 on this week's blog-hop (maybe even farther down on the list by the time this posts), do I continue to stick with the program? I mean, ~~who in their right mind~~ what sweet and altruistic person is going to take pity on a blog that far down the list?

I'd be plenty surprised if there are any. But, hey, a gal's gotta dream.

blogging

Closing of ESPN Zone will leave a hole in Baltimore hearts

2010-06-10T02:12:00.000-04:00

Oh no, Walt Disney Co., say it ain't so.

Another victim of the arrested economy, Baltimore's ESPN Zone is slated to close next Tuesday. That's not a whole lot of time to get your game on.

How absolutely awful. And here the ESPN Zone was supposed to be the designated venue for the annual Orioles Cook-Off. I attended the event last year, a benefit for the Maryland Food Bank, getting up close and personal with participants. Everyone genuinely had a good time. Can't imagine finding a comparable setting for this event.

First the Orioles break our hearts and now the ESPN Zone. Is there something in the water? Oh yeah, it's oil heading for the Chesapeake Bay.

Thanks a lot, Democratic majority.

sports

Israeli-Palestinian conflict awash in war of words

2010-06-09T18:55:00.001-04:00

Much has been said of late -- and in the case of Helen Thomas, regretted -- about escalation of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. To most Americans, the Middle East is a remote, never-visited, exotic land teeming with hostile nationalists, warring factions, and danger on every street corner. Americans are more interested in the new season of "Jersey Shore" than in a place they can't locate on a map.

With so little people on this side of the globe paying close attention, competing sound bites, U.N. resolutions, demonstrations, and popular sentiment cloud reality in a mad bid to muster support for two opposing factions locked in a battle of public relations.

By all accounts, both are losing the war.

In this corner sits Israel, invader, occupier, aggressor, you name it, Israel has been maligned by it. Yet, despite two expulsions and repeated subjugation by foreign conquerors, Jews have maintained a continuous presence in the land known as Israel since the parting of the Red Sea.

And in this corner sits Palestine, a mixture of ethnic and religious people, generally comprised of Arabs, Bedouins and Druze, who sold and abandoned the land known as Palestine until 1948. Palestine was never a sovereign nation per se, but a name assigned by foreign occupiers, much the same way Transjordan became a figment of sovereignty under the guise of the British Mandate.

I don't want to get into a lengthy history about the region, the Ottoman Empire, Byzantine Empire, Macedonian Empire and the like. Of the many different People who have lived in this hotly contested strip of real estate -- other than citizens of foreign conquerors -- none have enjoyed the pleasure of self rule since the days of antiquity. Identifying the occupiers and oppressed thus becomes a complicated exercise in futility. It really comes down to your source of information.

That and who rouses more sympathy.

Take for instance, this valiant but flawed attempt to present an unbiased history of the region. Sadly, it glosses over pivotal events of 1967, as well as land for peace deals brokered in the aftermath.

It also fails to mention that the duly elected Palestinian leadership, specifically Hamas, never amended that portion of its charter calling for Israel's total destruction.

Nor does it discuss sanctioned hatred of Israel perpetuated in the school system. You want to see chilling? Get a load of these images.

Most egregiously, it completely ignores Bill Clinton's success in bringing Yasser Arafat and Yitzhak Rabin to the negotiating table for a final peace agreement. Rabin - not Arafat - lost his life over the historic White House handshake. But for the fallout at Camp David, the never-ending conflict might have gone the way of the Model T.

It all comes down to whether people locked in conflict for more than sixty years truly want to live side by side in peace and harmony. If Palestinians want a peaceful two-state solution, why have they not made necessary changes to demonstrate their sincerity? Amend the charter. Renounce the hate. Stop instigating military reprisals. They could do all these things and more.

Not surprisingly, they have not. The true objective of Hamas leadership, those Palestinians seeking world condemnation of recent Israeli security measures, is not peace. They tell the world one thing and their people something else. The Palestinians will not be satisfied until they have wiped Israel off the face of the earth.

Back in college, when I was young and impressionable, my Jewish roommate was in love with a Palestinian boy from the Middle East who had come to America on a student visa. The three of us were dining together. He spoke of family forced to abandon luxurious olive groves in the wake of the Six-Day War, and how family land had been passed down from father to son for umpteen generations.

I asked why his family didn't stay and become citizens of the Israeli government. Years later, I can only paraphrase his response. Who would want that, he shot back with alarming candor, to be subservient to the will of Jews? I looked at him and at the face of my roommate thinking it was only a matter of time until they parted company.

Again, the devil is in the narrator. Facts are whitewashed, memories embellished, truth turns to fiction, and the propaganda machine rolls on.

politics

Today's Linky: Of Cabbages and Kings

2010-06-09T04:57:00.001-04:00

I'm beginning to warm to the idea of showcasing a new blog every Wednesday. Straight from the How to Win Friends and Influence People Guide of Blogging Nuggets, nothing says love'n like link'n and plug'n.

I know, I know, the whole idea of sending hard earned precious traffic to somebody else's bandwith is counter-intuitive, but trust me on this one. I know from whence I speak.

Of Cabbages and Kings, a blog that's easy on the eyes and funny as all get out, came to my attention rather unexpectedly from the most unlikeliest of places: an abandoned social network.

About two years ago -- yes TWO whole years ago -- I joined this then fledgling social network to promote my new blog -- a different new blog, mind you -- not that it matters. Having no idea what I was doing, I proceeded to post a discussion topic soliciting suggestions for a niche blogging topic and offering a prize. I then promptly dropped the site like a hot potato and never looked back.

Well, not exactly. Recently, I did look back and lo and behold, the site is no longer fledgling. To my delight, the place is now bursting at the seams with activity. Naturally, it took some time to get my bearings.

During the process, I came across a very old discussion topic I had started, so old it had gathered moss and turned yellow. I had offered a prize for the best answer -- publicity on my new blog -- and about 11 people replied. They must have thought I was some kind of welcher because I never did award the prize, nor did I return to the community.

Until now. True to my word, though a teensy bit late, I'm awarding the prize for the best answer to Jenn Thorson, author of Of Cabbages and Kings. I actually happen to like Jenn's blog and probably would have chosen it even without the discussion topic (don't think I'm just saying that to score brownie points). I really mean it. Jenn is a humor blogger, capturing the nuances of every day occurrences in a funny and entertaining manner. She also has a dedicated following, probably as a result of years spent at this networking site. Years I lost by not investing more time at the network.

Seriously, go check out Jenn's blog. It's a gas.

Same sex kiss could jump start these flagging celebrity careers

2010-06-08T02:04:00.001-04:00

If recent awards shows are any indication, Sandra Bullock needs a new man. This year alone, the Academy Award winner hit on Meryl Streep at the Critics' Choice Movie Awards, and at Sunday's 2010 MTV Movie Awards, Bullock re-enacted a love scene from "The Proposal" -- not with co-star Ryan Reynolds, as one might expect -- but with Reynold's very attractive wife, Scarlett Johansson

The shock value of the same sex kiss is alive and well, and coming soon to a theater near you. Dating back to the first homosexual kiss on celluloid, and reinvigorated by Master of Shock, Madonna, with pop proteges Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera, the same sex kiss continues to fascinate audiences like no other public display of affection can. From Saturday Night Live parodies, awards show performances, and Larry King Live, to Britain's Got Talent, Marie Clare photo shoots, a Make Homosexuals Marry ad campaign, and Kiss-Cam at the L.A. Staples Center.

If you ask me, same sex spit exchanges are nothing more than publicity stunts orchestrated to generate headlines. In more pitiful instances -- and this is just my own skeptical mind at work -- they're a backhanded way of jump starting flagging careers. Anything to get people's tongues wagging (pun intended).

Are they or aren't they? A.C. or D.C.? Once collective gaydar materializes it can take on a life of its own. Fans begin scouring the Internet to confirm or deny what's real and what isn't. Celebrity names become popular search terms. Before you know it, celebrities you haven't heard from in ages are guest starring on prime time TV.

Hey, it could happen.

With that in mind, here's a small sampling of celebrities who could jump start flagging careers by same sex kissing. It's my own pointless foray into the absurd. Feel free to suggest your own, the more outrageous the better.

Ernest Borgnine and Bronson Pinchot

Gene Wilder and Jimmy Walker

Mischa Barton and Brigitte Nielsen

Diane Carroll and Dyan Cannon

Tina Louise and Laraine Newman

Chris Brown and Chris Tucker

pop culture

Longing to swap places with Christian Louboutin Barbie

2010-06-07T01:34:00.002-04:00

More Barbie Pictures

Doll lovers heaved a collective "OMG!" when Christian Louboutin-shod Barbie made her widely anticipated debut on Net-A-Porter last Fall. The first of the limited edition series quickly sold out, only to reappear on eBay at slightly inflated prices.

Since then, "Dolly Forever" and "Cannes Film Festival" Barbie haven't created the same kind of frenzy. Actually, all three dolls can still be purchased at the original issue price and in some places for a slight discount. Hard to believe when considering the innovative ad campaign concocted to move these suckers.

These ad images are lush and distinctive, the proportions exacting. There's frou-frou bathrobe-wearing Barbie lounging on a manicured patio as Louboutin gardens in the flower bed. Cat burglar Barbie and Louboutin staking out treasures atop a glass-paned roof. Ringmaster Louboutin pointing to scantily clad Vegas girl Barbie in a purple velvet swing high above the audience. And much, much more.

I almost find myself envying the plastic jet-setter more for her glamorous lifestyle than for her red-soled shoe empire. I should only look half as good in bank breaking fashion while cavorting with a famous designer. What I wouldn't give to trade places with Mr. Louboutin's muse and send her walking in my penny loafers for a day.

Watching the tree cutters at work

Watering the garden

Ruminating over the porch planter that fell apart

Measuring the pile of dishes in the sink

Tripping over clothes covering the laundry room floor

Lamenting to-do projects languishing in the hallway

Surveying holes to be patched in the bathroom

That foxy floozy would have to be so much dumber than she looks.

pop culture

Yeah, but can she balance a checkbook?

2010-06-04T18:00:00.023-04:00

Found this cheese doodle on Hawtness and could not look away. Beautiful and provocative, I kept wondering whether the outfit is Gaga Couture or recyclable camouflage.

Didn't bother to vote. Hawt or nawt won't pay for a consult with the dermatologist.

weblog

It's a social parade!

2010-06-03T22:41:00.000-04:00

The new blog is starting to look less like an after party at Speidi's and more like an up and coming intraweb. Yay. What's my secret? Exhaustive blog surfing, commenting, linking, and generally making a nuisance of myself. It doesn't get any more basic than that.

Considering the amount of time I've spent doing all this today, accidentally running across a blog-hop for smart and trendy Moms hardly comes as a surprise. Yes, I know it's only Thursday night and Social Parade Followers Friday is supposed to take place tomorrow. So what? I feel like I stumbled upon a backstage pass or opened a candy bar with a golden ticket. The last time I happened upon a good looking blog-hop, it was closed. This time, I'm going for the gusto.

Bear with me here. I have no idea what I'm doing or how this stuff works. I only know that to keep my listing on the blog-hop, I MUST write about the parade every Friday, actively visit and comment on other blogs, and be a good doobee until we all get sick of each other or find the next big new thing to get noticed online.

Just kidding.

Gosh, I really hope I remember to check my email for reminders about this. Who knows what I'll be doing next Friday or whether I'll have time to write, surf, and comment. I may have bitten off more than I can chew. On the other hand, it would be nice to feast at an all you can east buffet.

Break out the parade floats!

Will someone please explain Technorati to me

2010-06-03T20:07:00.003-04:00

I'm not joking.

Somewhere, somehow, some way, I know Technorati is a useful blogging tool, bringing people from all walks of life together in a brilliant burst of the best and brightest the blogosphere has to offer. Gazillions of new articles appear there every day, vying for ranking and recognition. Someone should publish a cheat.

Blockhead me has yet to figure out how anyone promotes or connects on this site. Like a round-a-bout, I've been futilely clicking in circles for the past few hours looking for a way to increase blog authority or find a way to make my articles show up in relevant reading categories. No dice.

Guess the lame taggy thingy below will have to do for now. Reckons of Crass Construction has been sitting in the queue of Never Never Land waiting for approval since the day of its inception. I have no idea how to install the claim recognition token or, for that matter, find installation instructions anywhere on the Internet.

Help, somebody, please. Seriously. Help.

blogosphere

Update:
Apparently, claiming a blog is as easy as posting an article with the claim recognition token. So here it is:
BZBETEQ89Z39 - hope my blog doesn't get blackballed

Oh, this is rich. I went back and did everything they told me to do and here's the result.

LOL

It's just like a mini-mall

2010-06-03T00:30:00.006-04:00

It's a flea market!

No, it's a mini-mall!

FLEA MARKET!

MINI-MALL!!

It's two, two ... too madawk to watch without cracking a smile.

weblog

You in your infinite wisdom know best dear

2010-06-02T14:00:00.001-04:00

School is almost over and our 10th grader still hasn't solidified her summer vacation plans. I say it's the perfect time for an SAT Review course or drivers ed while she insists on sleeping in every day and working part-time at a local pizza shop.

She also wants to travel to the Middle East, take a cruise to the Bahamas, and "go downy oshun." My only question is, "Who's gonna pay for all this?"

Sure, squander our hard-earned money on worthless pursuits for momentary pleasure. Don't concern yourself about college requirements or getting your drivers license any time soon. That trivial stuff will magically work out fine on its own.

You in your infinite wisdom know best, dear.

weblog

Today's Linky: a tribute to actor Dennis Hopper

2010-06-02T00:30:00.003-04:00

On the Internet, as in life, people tend to form opinions about people they don't know in various ways. Two immediately come to mind.

First and foremost, people size up other people by their behavior. As a general rule, behavior is a keen indicator of character although by no means flawless. Carefully crafted speech and actions are the lifeblood of con artists and sociopaths, not to mention toxic acquaintances. One would be wise not to judge a book by its cover unless, of course, there isn't enough time to browse the dollar bin.

Assessing the reputation of friends and associates is another way people decide who to befriend and who to keep at arm's length. Birds of a feather do flock together, meaning, migratory creatures with little in common won't fly south for the winter in a congenial V-formation, and are more likely to peck each others' eyes out if they so much as glance at each other the wrong way.

So too goes the blogosphere.

Blog design and article quality are a reflection of a blog's behavior, so to speak, while links and communities are the friends and associates component. Well-maintained blogs attract more attention and are more likely to build followings than blogs which are difficult to navigate, poorly written or rarely updated. Similarly, blogs which lack meaningful linkage tend to rank poorly on search engines and readers tend to snub sparsely populated communities. A certain pack mentality influences the selection process, much the same way night clubs with longer lines attract more patrons not less. Logically it should be the reverse, and yet some people can't resist joining the herd.

What does all of this have to do with a tribute to actor and professional photographer Dennis Hopper who recently passed away at the age of 74?

Very little. In fact nothing, unless you decide to read Dave's Daily T-Shirts #90 post. Finding Dave's blog was like stumbling upon the smell of budding cherry blossoms in the Spring, a true delight. Dave deserves props not only for creating an original platform to share interesting tidbits about his life, but also, inventing a clever excuse to hangout in slacker wear.

Please don't judge me.

weblog

Memorial Day memorialized

2010-06-01T18:14:00.000-04:00

Remnants from Memorial Day 2010:

Sun so bright it hurt to look

Unconventional flag displays

Barbecue overload

Fresh freckled faces

Doggy nirvana

Messy kitchen

Spills and stains

Locker room shock

Hope your Memorial Day observance was meaningful and memorable.

weblog

Building better blogger connections through BlogLovin

2010-05-31T18:17:00.001-04:00

In case you haven't noticed, I've been taking advantage of the long weekend to add communities, bots, and buttons to this blog in an effort to publicize my new endeavor. How else am I ever going to get anyone to comment? And don't get me started about the Reckons of Crass Construction Google Community. Sadly, it remains unpopulated, a constant reminder of the need to jump start grassroots publicity.

Yes, I like to write, get silly, and post on a number of topics, but I'm afraid that's not enough. I need to reach out and touch people. Hope I won't accidentally violate anyone's personal space.

I recently signed up for an account on BlogLovin because it will allow me to organize appealing blogs and hopefully help others find me. Follow my blog with bloglovin and I will be sure to check out yours and get connected.

weblog

Memorial Day weekend grocery store haikus

2010-05-31T06:32:00.002-04:00

More Images Like This

You try planning a BBQ on a holiday weekend. Yep, it's Memorial Day and yesterday, I had a rollicking good time at the grocery store. Not.

To honor the memory of America's fallen heroes, some heartfelt grocery store haikus:

Back in a corner
Watermelons turn into
Smelly rotten fruit

Where are the store clerks?
Endless long aisles look alike
Can't find the ketchup

My cart's squeaky wheel
Pleads for a grease infusion
Nails across blackboards

The crying baby
Ignores attempted soothing
Shut up already

Checkout line backed up
She took her time with my stuff
Brand new employee

Nerves shot, patience gone
Once again in longest line
I sure can pick 'em

weblog

I can come up with a blog post day contest

2010-05-31T01:39:00.002-04:00

Offering prize money in exchange for link love and subs is a great way to increase a blog's search engine rankings. This site pretty much exploded simply by asking readers to do the following:

1.Rub your stomach while patting your head and jumping up and down on one foot NAKED!!
2. Sign Up for RSS
3. Tweet, Stumble, Shout from the Rooftops
4. Mention the post on your blog
5. Leave a comment

Image created by Theadmaster.net

Great. So now that I've done all five, isn't it clear that I am the one most deserving of the C Note? Better yet, if you're reading this post, why not subscribe to MY blog to show how utterly pathetic you think I am for entering such a solicitous contest in the first place.

Win an EASY $100 - National I can't come up with a blog post day! my eye.

weblog

George Washington Elementary School students betrayed by cheating administrators

2010-05-27T14:10:00.003-04:00

A Baltimore elementary school needed to raise test scores so badly, it bypassed tried and true methods such as hard work and motivation in favor of an easier technique. Cheating.

State assessment test booklets from students attending George Washington Elementary School contained thousands of eraser marks changing wrong answers to right - a gigantic slap in the face to a namesake's reputation if ever there was. School administrators finally admitted the cheating scandal after the Maryland State Department of Education and Baltimore City Schools conducted a massive two-year investigation. Officials checked erasure patterns, the number of answers changed, and the direction of eraser marks to confirm initial suspicions.

The school is now in jeopardy of losing its status as a National Blue Ribbon School, an award bestowed by the U.S. Department of Education in 2007. Baltimore City Schools CEO Andre Alonso also revoked the teaching certificate of the school's 2008 principal. Former Principal Susan Burgess was not assigned to a new school and no longer works for City Schools.

Good riddance! Isn't it bad enough the majority of these kids, many from the most impoverished areas of the City, have to navigate a jungle of violent crime, drug abuse, rodent infestation, lead paint poisoning, absentee parents, and who knows what else every day of their little lives? Did reckless and moronic adults entrusted with their care and tutelage have to add to the wear and tear on their self-esteem by plopping them in the middle of a cheating scandal?

And for what? Pats on the back devoid of intrinsic merit? Misplaced parental gratitude? Pupils ill-equipped to handle life in the real world? Most troubling is the message these idiots sent to vulnerable school children. Children looked to them, supposed adults, not only for guidance to navigate everyday challenges, but also for skills to overcome such challenges on their own.

Cheaters never prosper even when they don't get caught. Caring and able-bodied educators taught and reinforced this lesson throughout my school years, and because they did so in such a sensitive manner I have steadfastly followed ever since.

Too bad George Washington Elementary School students won't get the same opportunity.

weblog

Horrific car accident a lasting lesson in time management

2010-05-26T23:15:00.003-04:00

Three errands in under an hour and a half. Time would be tight but manageable.

After a stop in Pikesville, I took Reisterstown Road toward the Owings Mills Mall. In the distance, a siren wailed. Instinctively I knew it meant trouble. Should I continue on Reisterstown or take the Beltway to Interstate 795? An accident on Reisterstown could cause significantly delay while 795 is a clear stretch of highway. And then there was the matter of reputation. Past experience made the choice a no-brainer.

On any given day, at least in my neck of the woods, traffic on Reisterstown Road is a hair shy of unbearable, nay, more often than not it is mind-numbingly excruciating, and therefore to be avoided at all costs. Approaching a green light on Reisterstown and a red light to enter the Beltway, a random thought popped into my brain. The green light could be a sign of synchronized green lights to come. In that split second, I decided the thought was irrational and entered the turn lane. A brief stop and then smooth sailing to the mall.

Or so I thought. No sooner did I merge onto 795 than did all three lanes of traffic come to a standstill. I don't know if you've ever traveled that stretch of 795, but once you exit the Baltimore Beltway you can't exit until Owings Mills Boulevard, a good mile or so away. In the middle of the day, a sudden traffic jam could mean only one thing: a car accident. I was trapped.

Sirens and more sirens. One, two, then three fire engines screaming past stalled vehicles, followed in quick succession by an ambulance, three police cars, and yet another emergency vehicle. The site of the accident was only yards away, but with only one lane of traffic moving past a blockade of emergency flares it took over twenty-five minutes to reach. A more gruesome scene would be hard to imagine. Police and fire fighters worked feverishly around the area. Against the guardrail, a crumpled red sports car rested upside down on its hood. Someone lay splayed on the highway. Emergency personnel knelt nearby. More than that, I couldn't bear to rubberneck.

Ask not for whom the siren tolls. It tolls for thee.

Oh, the irony. I lost the same amount of time, perhaps more, as hitting every red light on Reisterstown Road. That wailing siren - the one off in the distance as I entered the crossroad of Reisterstown and the Beltway - was speeding toward 795. If I had stopped at the traffic light a minute longer, the siren would have sailed right past me to the Beltway. I would have seen it enter 795 and thought twice about following, maybe even circled back to Reisterstown Road.

Who knows whether that would have made any difference, or if staying on Reisterstown would have saved time. I like to think I was destined to lose that time no matter which route I chose, like the universe wanting to teach me a lesson for trying to cram too much into too little time. If I've learned anything from today's experience, it's that I should give myself more leeway when it comes to time and pay closer attention to intuition.

Thankfully, the time loss was inconsequential. But images of a horrific car accident won't easily fade.

weblog

Reality Whore: the reality

2010-05-24T01:44:00.005-04:00

These days, anyone with a camera crew and air time can become a reality star, sometimes with devestating consequences. Recently, a little Detroit girl lost her life during the filming of a reality police show. Her community is grief stricken.

Now comes Mel B, aka Scary Spice, announcing a new reality show charting everyday life with her and her family. Big whoop. Can't wait to see how they sit around the TV dissing old SNL episodes featuring "Gumby, Damn It," and "Mr. Robinson's Neighborhood." Better yet, maybe Posh and Becks will pop in. I can see it now. Look who dropped by for tea and crumpets. My goodness Posh is ungodly thin! Are she and Mel B comparing fake bosoms or slapping an impromptu body bump ?

Mass proliferation of the reality genre has gotten so bad, it has ordinary shlubs like me thinking we're perfectly capable of conceiving and executing our own reality fare. Makes no difference that our lives are positively boring and nondescript, we also want to cash in before the network money well runs dry.

That's why I've gone to the time and trouble to create my own reality series, albeit a cartoon, affectionately titled "Reality Whore." The premise revolves around two unidentified losers (names to be established at a later date) who graduate from college without job prospects or a real future. Out of nowhere, one of them decides his destiny lies in Hollywood as the executive producer of a new reality series (don't ask me what or why).

REALITY WHORE by Cheryl Taragin

Okay, so the artwork is rather crude and the dialogue annoyingly fuzzy, but as an inaugural episode, I've seen worse. Naturally, I'll go back to the drawing board before posting a second installment, meaning, unlike the awful rendering above, I will not use Paint as my modus operandi. For now, however, simple clarification of the loser reparte should make amends:

Loser One: Hey dude, now that we've graduated from college what's next?

Loser Two: I thought I'd take a pilot trip to Hollywood, you know... Maybe start my own reality show, that sort of thing.

Loser One: How's that gonna go down?

Loser Two: Get some smoke'n hotties together with one or two crazy bimbos and some networks execs. It can't be too difficult ...

Loser One: How ya gonna do that?

Loser Two: I dunno. Throw some kind of kick ass party, I guess.

Loser One: Awesome! I'm invited, right?

Loser Two: I'll have to get back to you.

Bah-dah-bum.

Read the next issue of "Reality Whore" at the link.

weblog

Baltimore puppy killers deserve punishment befitting crime

2010-05-17T02:35:00.000-04:00

Golfers in Carroll Park Golf Course witnessed children beating a pit bull puppy and chased them away. The puppy, which was less than eight-weeks old, died en route to the vet.

This latest act of animal cruelty comes on the heels of a machete attack against an 18-month old shepherd- pit bull mix. The unfortunate animal survived the attack, but will lose an eye.

Baltimore. The City That Bleeds. Animal abuse is such a serious crime, I believe the perpetrators deserve far worse than your average run-of-the-mill punishment.

That or slather the little buggers' pointy heads in honey, then release the fire ants.

weblog

Pissed off, rankled and other stages of unfettered umbrage

2010-05-14T09:52:00.000-04:00

The world is overflowing with people who either intentionally or unknowingly piss other people off. There should be a tactful way of telling such people they are rude, arrogant, and beyond all human endurance. Sadly, I have yet to find it.

Like the clueless financial conglomerate trying to hawk another money-sucking product no one needs. Don't these people know that no matter how many times they interrupt an otherwise pleasant day, the person they want to speak with is never home? What is it about "please send your information in the mail because the person is unavailable" don't they understand?

And what about people who drive without any concern for the safety of others? Just the other day, I was about to take my turn at a four-way stop and along comes some loony-tune who didn't even bother to slow down. Seriously, the jerk could have turned us both into dog meat. Defensive driving saved the day, but boy, did I ever sweat bullets. My face may have literally turned purple.

Don't get me started about co-workers. Malicious, sabotaging co-workers. People who wouldn't think twice about sticking a knife in your back while lying sweetly to your face. In my entire lifetime, which is no small measure, I have encountered only one such person, an evil-minded, rosacea-scarred nitwit with delusions of grandeur. I won't divulge the gory details of my workplace trials and tribulations, but suffice it to say, the nimrod's general demeanor was nothing short of blood vessel bursting, and that's putting it kindly.

And then, there's the dregs of society. People who are so base, so callous, so lacking in any shred of common human decency, no act of horror is beneath them. This week, a Cherry Hill parent publicly accused a family acquaintance of raping her 18-month old toddler. Details are murky. The baby contracted gonorrhea sometime in late April, however, since that time, no charges have been filed. Baltimore police continue their investigation.

Knowing the city the way I do, the mother probably went public due to the slow pace of the investigation. I'm not quite sure if police are to blame. The matter could have been tied up in Social Services. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if that department dragged their heels while the mother stewed.

Still, is there any question how an 18-month old girl contracted gonorrhea? It didn't just jump off a toilet seat. Somebody raped that baby. If not the lowlife family acquaintance, then who? I know the mother feels horrible and is hell-bent on bringing the perpetrator to justice, but shouldn't she have called police the minute she received the diagnosis? I know I would have. In the meantime, somewhere, someplace, human garbage continues to roam the streets of Charm City. It's enough to make my blood boil.

Invertebrates who should be hogtied, tarred and feathered, and dragged upside down out of town. I try very hard not be one of them.

weblog

Blind expectations nip shot at mother of the year

2010-05-13T16:41:00.004-04:00

More Images Like This

Children. They are both a tremendous joy and occasional disappointment. Joy for all the things they accomplish, excel at and do right. Disappointment for all the things they mess up, can't be bothered with and deftly ignore.

My husband and I don't insist on very much from our children. Maybe that's why they sometimes fall short on my expectation meter. No one is perfect, I know, most of all not moi, but couldn't my kids at least pretend to be model offspring? Is it wrong to want children to do better and achieve more while exhibiting enviably character? I sometimes wonder whether, if I went back in time, would I parent any differently. A worthless pursuit, I know, but no less guilt-inducing.

Today is one of those days when I feel like I'm letting one of our children off the hook too easily. The plan was to pick up mattresses ordered weeks ago and this particular child agreed to join me. Two weeks later, the mattresses remain in storage. I'm not sure how long the store will warehouse back-ordered merchandise, but testing the limits of professional courtesy is never a good idea. Any day now, I expect the manager to call, yet again, saying get the damn things already or lose them to another customer.

We have teenagers, three of them to be exact (one of each, my husband likes to tease), and all three are quite capable of handling minor household chores. Hoping to avoid possible setbacks, yesterday, I reminded this particular child to get a good night's sleep. Did the child listen? Not a chance.

This morning when I tried to nudge the bum out of bed, my efforts elicited groans and pleas for postponement. Pushover that I am, I quietly capitulated, closing the bedroom door in disgust and defeat. Inside, I wanted to drag the bum out of bed and give 'em what for, but consciously, I resisted the urge to play Totally 80's: TOTALLY 80'S SUNDAY MOVIE FLASHBACK: MOMMIE DEAREST (1981) and FRIDAY THE 13TH I (1980).

Funny how easily I gave in. But take note of my unwavering commitment to gender neutrality. Wouldn't want to give the little scallywag's identity away now, would I?

The store could deliver the mattresses, I know, but I can't bring myself to justify the expenditure. I also could transport them alone, but in light of my vertebrae shortcomings, I decided on the child alternative. This particular child sleeps in almost every morning and works in the afternoon. Expecting the bum to pitch in isn't unreasonable. Where did I go wrong?

I remember growing up and spending a lot of time with neighbors, mainly because my own family was so gawd awful dysfunctional. Their eldest daughter was my best friend, very gregarious, fun, and fond of adventure. Something about Debbie and her family attracted me. Looking back, I probably envied the way they spent so much quality time together. Not in an overly aggressive, nauseatingly cloying manner, but more in a leave-it-to-beaver, nuclear family sort of way. In a tiny row house full of laughter, love and family time, Debbie's parents created a strong sense of warmth and belonging. Routine chores like washing and drying the dishes were not open matters for debate, but expected. Everyone pitched in.

There must be something about chores and predictability that instill not only a sense of shared obligation in children, but also an enduring measure of character. I performed daily chores at summer camp, but never at home. There I ran wild, often turning the place upside down without consequence. My mother took it upon herself to keep our home clean and tidy. Children could do as they pleased.

Repeating the patterns of yesteryear, I see where I dropped the ball. Debbie's parents quickly warmed to me, treating me like one of the family, though they didn't go so far as to include my name on their rotating chore wheel. It's on days like today that I wish they had.

parenting

Inspiring those who would rather be left to their own devices

2010-05-06T13:07:00.127-04:00

It isn't often I ~~complain about the petty stuff going on around me~~ reflect positively on life's blessings. Nitpicking, criticizing, fault-finding ... the minute anything goes wrong or other than planned, these are the reactions that come almost instinctively to my brain. Consciously, I must force myself to see the bright side, a glass half full rather than empty, lest I devolve into a churlish shrew.

Believe me, this is no easy feat.

A play. A middle school play. A middle school play comprised of twenty-five or so giggly, young, impressionable girls, some talented, some ~~woefully lacking~~ not so talented, all eager to trip the light fantastic, learning song, dance, dialogue, and general theater technique in the span of approximately two months. I say approximately because rehearsals began over three months ago. Some girls regularly skipped practice, and some weeks, the girls took more time to calm down and focus than time allowed.

Drawn by a talented director with a good eye for the stage and having attended some of the school's past off-key performances, I volunteered to help with the music. Not to toot my own horn, but as a youngster, I performed in many plays, both in school and out, sang and played guitar for pay, and commanded a very exclusive spot in what was then known as "Special Chorus," although today, that moniker brings to mind a far different sense of status.

For weeks, I coached my heart out, going so far as to produce a portable keyboard to demonstrate the right notes for these supposedly malleable tweenagers. Hear the note. Sing the note. Repeat. How hard could it be?

Apparently, a lot harder than I imagined. Okay. So these girls aren't Broadway bound or, for that matter, particularly talented. Scratch that. Many of them have the ability to sing on key and keep tempo, but lack proper training. Three months time could not erase a lifetime of lackadaisicalness.

This shot of our director goofing around with the girls at practice epitomizes my general inner reaction to their musical progress.

Realistically speaking, I would have been happy had they simply made the effort to drum the twelve or so songs into their sweet little brains. All they had to do was repeatedly listen to the show CD. I cheered the ones who showed initiative by loading the music to their iPods, and admonished those who didn't so much as open a CD player. I suppose the latter thought they might learn the songs through osmosis or fake their way through, however, I'm all about high standards and working to one's potential. When pleading and encouragement didn't inspire better performances, I resorted to scare tactics. Do well and receive gushing positive feedback. Mess up and receive scowls.

Little did I realize there would be backlash. I wasn't counting on a contingent of rolling eyes every time I offered honest critique, or looks the other way whenever I entered the auditorium. Not all of them, mind you, just a select group I was pushing to work to their potential. Their slings and arrows were hard to brush off and, at times, I felt like an outsider. But, honestly, that wasn't the worst of it. In a way, this self-possessed, wilt-at-criticism, "it's good enough" group of pansies stopped trying. Dress rehearsal was an utter disaster.

I suppose as a kid, when teachers pushed too hard, I, too, harbored undeniable loathing. So long ago and so hard to remember, yet many years later I am grateful for the work ethic they instilled. Despite inflated self-perception, there were many times that my best wasn't good enough. For the most part, if a teacher said I could do better, I worked harder and did. There was no ego stroking, no hand holding, no lies. "Do better or we will find someone who can," they would say. Can't take the pressure? Your loss.

Much has changed in those intervening years. Children are coddled with so much positive feedback, it makes me want to hurl. Not everyone is cut out to perform, or for that matter, sing, and in that, there is no shame. Children should be taught to discover their natural talents, then nurtured to know that distinction does not make one better or more desirable, just different. If they were taught at a young age to discover their inner strengths, and hone them through hard work and determination, children would be so much better off. Lottie may sing off-key and dance like a spazz, but boy can she play a mean game of chess. Sign that girl up for Mathletes!

As fate may go, this story does have a happy ending. The girls' first performance wasn't as good as I would have liked, but most of the solos did well, and the audience -- at least the ones who I spoke to -- loved it. Backstage, I gushed over the girls who hit the mark, boosted the spirits of those who gave it their all but fell short, and ignored the ones who continued to fall flat despite their innate abilities. My father always said that if you can't say something nice to someone, say nothing at all. At that point, I was beyond scare tactics and could barely bring myself to look the latter in the eye.

Lo and behold, the following night, these thorns in my side, the girls I had pushed beyond endurance and completely alienated, surprised me by turning the corner, giving their best performances ever. They sang on tune, kept reasonably good tempo, and belted out their solos at the right time. I could scarcely believe my ears! Naturally, I had to praise them effusively, even before the final bow. You should have seen their faces light up. Inside, I felt vindicated.

Here they are at a practice before the dress rehearsal

That night, I left the school auditorium with a boatload of thanks, a lovely souvenir poster signed by most of the cast, including, believe it or not, my poison protegees, but more importantly, a welling sense of pride.

weblog

Trying to glean tricks and tips from Blogger Buzz

2010-05-05T12:29:00.001-04:00

Midweek and I've barely accomplished anything. Starting a new blog should be like falling off a log for an old hat like me. Still, I'm finding the endeavor slightly time consuming, and I'll admit, annoyingly baffling. Use of other share sites has connected me to people I wouldn't otherwise encounter, but I cannot for the life of me figure out how to get them to become followers of this blog without contacting each one personally and shamelessly self-promoting.

Is it time to go back to square one?

Everything on the Internet changes so quickly. I acknowledge being below the curve. Figured I should invest a little time to wrap my head around Blogger Buzz: Share Blogger posts to Buzz, an article I happened upon in a enviably connected blog. It may help me learn some tricks of the trade and, hopefully, hook up with my peeps.

Not in the literally sense, of course. Believe it or not, back in my day, a hook up was an innocuous way of saying "connect."

weblog

Good tree cutting service makes good neighbors

2010-05-04T16:36:00.004-04:00

It wasn't their fault. Innocent victims of a freak once-in-a-generation snow storm -- scratch that, uh, blizzard -- that paralyzed Baltimore County and most of the State of Maryland, they withstood layer upon layer of limb crushing snow, only to solemnly meet their maker in the coming spring.

The wood chipper. I can almost hear their silent screams pierce the grinder as bark, pulp, and pine needles become mulch for budding young flower buds and promising vegetable gardens.

Wretched beasts of brown decay, yellowing pines, and sun-obliterating spread. Beauty draining monstrosities obliviously trespassing the property line, breeding bone chilling resentment in their wake.

So, which is it? Majestic living, carbon monoxide breathing creatures suffering the slings and arrows of a mad suburban housewife simply for being planted in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or cruel and unforgiving tormentors mocking those who seek to stiffle their advancement, endless branches stretching into the void, cutting off ingress and egress wherever they deign?

One thing is for certain. At last they are gone, but not soon forgotten. A lesson in nature run amuck. Hooray and hallejuah! Once again, I can see the details of our quaint backyard.

weblog

Pacifying the unemployment monkey with a to do list

2010-05-03T14:19:00.006-04:00

Knowing I'm not the only one with a screeching monkey on her back is small measure of comfort on an overcast Monday afternoon. Please, I can't be the only one having problems getting her act together.

This morning, I turned off the alarm at 7:30 a.m., woke up my 10th grader for school, reminded her to dress appropriately for the morning drizzle, and flung myself back to bed. The next time I regained consciousness, the clock's horrifying display read "10:30," though thankfully, a.m., not p.m. At first I thought our electricity might have died as a result of last night's thunderstorm, but no such luck. The entire morning was practically gone.

And here I had plans to send out resumes, make phone calls, check my email, and do a stint of friend networking. Not.

Unemployment. That annoying festering simian who can't tell the difference between my back and a bunch of bananas. Somebody ought to tell the little beast there's a vacancy down in Druid Hill Park. A pimped-out cage with his name on it. Welcome home, Cheeta.

The problem is, I'm not entirely sure I want to go back to work. Lord knows, we could use the money. On the other hand, it's not like we can't put food on the table or pay for our basic necessities. Having lived without extras for most of my formative childhood, material things don't matter as much as they might to other people. I have no problem passing on the latest high-tech or fashion craze, creature comforts, or whatnots. And I'm not sure I want to pass on more enticing endeavors like fixing up the house, writing the next great novel, or volunteering for the the needy so that I can work five days, or best case scenario, three days a week part-time to earn a few extra dollars.

Is it worth going back to the daily grind? Honestly, I don't know. It's not easy being stuck between a rock and a dark hollow place of undefined expanse.

The other problem is, I feel like I could re-enter the workplace any time I want. All I have to do is get my big behind in gear and make it happen. I never had a problem finding work before. Why should I have any problem now? Well, to be honest, there's this huge part of me that's afraid of rejection. Competition in the work force has become fierce and my self-promotion skills aren't what they used to be. I'm older and definitely not as polished as say, some bright, young, intelligent go-getter fresh out of college. How is my current persona going to translate to prospective employers?

Self-doubt, over confidence, and projects I ignored for a thousand years to work and raise a family. The perfect storm. Recently, my dark hollow expanse became so overwhelmingly and self-defeating, I decided to pull myself up from my bootstraps by making a list. A list of everything I want to do -- nay, have to do -- before I can feel comfortable devoting every single waking moment toward finding the next great job. It's long and may take until the summer to complete, but that's okay. In a way, it's kind of comforting because its length means I'm not simply fettering my life away on useless meaningless pursuits while delaying the inevitable. I'm rolling up my sleeves and getting stuff done. Even if I'm not getting paid, it doesn't matter because somebody has to put a fork in this stuff.

If not me, then who? Certainly not my career-driven husband who thankfully is gainfully employed. Hey. It's not like we're independently wealthy. Someone has to keep our bank accounts in the black.

In the back of my mind, I keep telling myself it's okay to hold out for the perfect job, whatever that may be, as I cross each item off my lengthy To Do List. At this point in my life, I want a job doing something meaningful, something truly satisfying. Write. Teach. Make a difference in the world. By the same token, I also want the freedom to take care of my family. Somewhere out there, I know there's a job that will let me balance the two and feel like my work matters. Eventually, I will find the inner strength and fortitude to send badgering Cheeta on his way.

Until then, list item #22, shredding our old tax documents, beckons.

weblog

Disgusting wedding customs kickoff the season

2010-04-30T11:20:00.004-04:00

This Sunday, I'm attending a bridal shower, my first of the season. Not that I'm any type of wedding butterfly, but these days more of our friends' children are getting married, and occasionally, I do receive an invitation to the bridal shower. I hope this means we'll also get an invitation to the wedding, but one can never tell.

We're approaching wedding season and what better way to get in the groove than share horribly nauseating wedding customs via mass media? Early this morning as my alarm went off with the Wall Street Journal Update, I decided to stick around for their segment on weird wedding customs from around the globe rather than jump right into the shower. Just in case we ever get invited to nuptials in some other part of the world. One can never be too prepared.

Ugh. Did you know that in Scotland, the bride is subjected to some revolting ritual called "blackening the bride?" It involves throwing foul substances, such as spoiled milk, tar, paint, lamb entrails (I made up that last one), and any other crap one can glean from the garbage, and throwing it on the bride until she is covered from head to toe in insanity. I'm not sure if this takes place at or before the ceremony, but apparently it requires the element of surprise. My guess is that it happens some time before the wedding, like the bachelorette party from hell. Those Scots really know how to party.

Also, there's a tribe in Borneo who requires the bride and groom to stop eliminating waste matter for 72 hours. If successful, the custom portends for a long and happy union. I don't know how anyone can stop going to the bathroom for three days. Supposedly, the happy couple is practically starved to death in advance of the ritual so they have next to nothing in their systems. I can only imagine how they make it to the altar. Hopefully, someone has the good sense not to execute this excruciatingly painful and ridiculous practice in the days leading up to the wedding.

I didn't lull in bed long enough to listen to any more wedding customs from bizzare-o world. Whatever those Wall Street Journal newscasters had to say, they probably also lifted it directly from this article on insane marriage rituals from around the world. Sad when a broadcast has to lift ideas from already published material.

If I had wanted to be completely grossed out first thing in the morning, I could have simply searched online.

weblog

Arizona law makes it a crime to be illegal immigrant

2010-04-28T13:17:00.003-04:00

More Statue of Liberty Pictures

Had to laugh at this one. "Arizona Law Makes it a Crime to be an Illegal Immigrant," blasts the Associated Press, a headline then regurgitated by numerous news conglomerates.

No, my friends, I'm afraid not. Arizona SB 1070 does not criminalize the act of coming into this country illegally. For that you can thank Chapter 8 of the Immigration and Nationality Act, specifically Section 275, a federal law which imposes fines, imprisonment, and/or deportation on any alien entering the country in a manner contrary to those prescribed. The federal law is very clear about the need to obtain visas and submit to inspection, as well as the procedure for naturalization. Those who enter and live in the U.S. without following the federal law are therefore illegal immigrants, Arizona's new law notwithstanding.

Ergot, the headline is stupid.

Critics of the Arizona law say it will lead to human rights violations, racial profiling, and require Arizona residents to carry immigration paperwork or proof of citizenship at all times. But I ask where's the intrusion? Under the new law, police aren't allowed to stop people suspected of a violation and may ask for documentation of legal status only in connection with a separate primary offense. Granted, this requires anyone in Arizona to carry a copy of their birth certificates or immigration papers, but so what? Nobody seemed to mind jumping through hoops when airport security became a major pain in the neck. Protecting our borders is the next logical step in making the U.S. a safer nation. Besides, most of us already carry around drivers licenses, medical emergency cards, check cashing cards, etc. What's the big deal?

Illegal immigration is a huge problem. People who should not be living and/or working in this country reap substantial benefit from taxpayer money and rarely pay into the system. They also take away jobs from the unemployed and teenagers who wouldn't mind a little extra income. When illegal immigrants are involved in traffic accidents, they seldom carry insurance to pay for personal injury or vehicle damage. And let's face it, they and/or their offspring have been known to be linked to dangerous gang activity. If the feds aren't going to take action to enforce its own laws, why shouldn't Arizona step up to the plate?

I'm all for immigration, the American melting pot, and all that kind of hooey, but for gawd's sake, do it legally! My grandparents immigrated to this country from England and Russia and they had to go through all sorts of poking and prodding to gain American citizenship. If foreigners want to live in this country so badly, let them do the same. And if they don't and are already here illegally ... oh well. Better get packing.

If it was good enough for my grandparents, it's good enough for the illegals.

weblog

Bandanas could be key to Bret Michaels brain hemorrhage mystery

2010-04-27T00:00:00.182-04:00

Very classy of third place network NBC to run a voice over for Bret Michaels' recovery after last night's installment of "Celebrity Apprentice." You think they're trying to compensate for treating Conan like scum? It wouldn't be the first time a blood-sucking network flashed its cleavage of humanity.

No doubt about it, Jeff Zucker has got to go.These days, "The Celebrity Apprentice," "Parenthood," "Saturday Night Live" and "30 Rock" are the only reasons I'll play patsy with the peacock. Remember the heydays of "Taxi," "Cheers," and "Seinfeld?" How far the mighty have fallen.

More Bret Michaels Pictures

This morning, I uttered an impromptu prayer for Bret Michaels' speedy recovery. The poor guy is in stable but critical condition at some unnamed Arizona hospital after suffering a brain hemorrhage late last Thursday night. Unable to pinpoint the source of bleeding, doctors are keeping Michaels in the ICU for further observation.

Prayers aside, I have every reason to believe Michaels will be okay. The guy has more lives than a battered ally cat. Even with his hard-drinking rock and roll lifestyle, he's managed to live with Type I diabetes throughout adulthood. Last year during the Tony Awards, a rogue stage prop bashed him in the head, and yet he emerged relatively unscathed. More recently, Michaels weathered his teenage daughter's own diabetes scare while surviving The Donald's harrowing elimination rounds. Top that off with an out-of-the-blue emergency appendectomy earlier this month, and now a mysterious brain hemorrhage. It's like some demonic force is out to ruin his good time, but Michaels keeps bouncing back with a skip in his step eager for another round.

I never sat through an episode of Michaels' popular "Rock of Love" reality show, but I laughed like hell at those SNL parodies. Talented Amy Poehler killed as dim-witted, overly self-confident Amber, the contestant who never quite measured up, despite her bravado. Now, after watching Michaels blossom as the loyal, in your face, wickedly creative, all-around nice guy on "Celebrity Apprentice," there's a gushy spot in my heart for the bandana-clad go-getter.

Speaking of which, other than creating a signature look, are those ever-present head hammocks really necessary? I wouldn't be at all surprised if Michaels sleeps, eats, brushes his teeth, and has sex in those things. He's probably sporting a bandana right now while chilling in the ICU. Some nimrod said he wears bandanas to hide a giant abscess on his forehead, but that explanation resonates like a pile of steaming horse cocky. Clearly, I'm not the only one demanding better answers.

Given Michaels unusual bandana fixation, there must be something more to his quirky fashion statement than meets the eye. Just for a moment, imagine bandanas as the key to Michaels' healthy recovery. What if bandanas somehow caused his brain hemorrhage by cutting off critical circulation? Wouldn't it be cool if Michaels could miraculously reverse the process by dropping them like a one-legged groupie?

I don't know if there's any causal relationship between habitual head fashion and mysterious brain bleeding, but one can never be too careful, especially a guy like Michaels who may be on the last legs of his allotted nine lives. Why chance it? Burn those suckers! Bret Michaels' life may depend upon it.

weblog

It's not all about me

2010-04-26T03:37:00.007-04:00

Hello world. Yes, I'm back. After a rather long hiatus, I've decided to get back into this blogging thing, don't ask me why.

It could have something to do with a latent infantile need to reach out and connect, particularly with strangers who couldn't possibly pass judgment on me because they have no idea who I really am -- at least not deep down inside. Or it could be because I fancy myself pithy and entertaining, even though I have no real following and couldn't, after almost three years of blogging my brains out, make any money worth writing home about. Not that anyone in this gawd forsaken economy cares, but I'm currently unemployed and trying to figure out what I should do with the rest of my life. I figure writing down random thoughts and asking people to comment couldn't hurt, but then again, I thought I could parlay my enjoyment of celebrity gossip into a money-making endeavor.

Whatever the reason, I readily acknowledge that I do like to express opinions quite loudly and often, something I don't get to do a lot of in my neck of the woods, what with a husband full of his own damn opinions that seldom jive with my own. Live long enough with a person like that and eventually you'll learn to either bite your tongue or poison the douche bag's coffee. Either way, eventually you'll have to find some kind of audience to unload upon, not to mention blogging is so much cheaper than therapy (no, you need not alert your local police that some crazy woman is spiking her husband's coffee with arsenic and bragging about it to anyone with Internet access).

Truth be told, I owe my husband a huge debt of gratitude. I had no idea how self-centered I was until we lovingly gazed into each others' eyes and solemnly pledged our "I do's." Up until then, I kind of saw myself as an altruist, always lending a hand to friends and family and doing whatever I could for the less fortunate. Give me a cause and I'd protest it. Point me in the direction of the nearest soup kitchen and I'd service it. Ask me to contribute to charity and I'd throw money at it. Hell, I even chose to make a living in a helping profession, one I won't go into detail about now because of tasteless professional courtesy jokes, but you get the idea. Who knew that underneath all that do-gooding and selfless acts of loving kindness it was really all about me? Apparently, my husband, the self-righteous puss. Go figure.

Meh. To some degree, I suppose he's right. Deep down, much as I hate to admit, I do view the world, people, and the stuff that happens around me in terms of how it affects me. I used to think that anyone with a half a brain or healthy self-image processed these things much the same way, but these days I can't be so certain.

You see, living with my husband for as long as I have has made me doubt the veracity of notions I once held close and dear. I no longer believe in magic or that things have a way of working themselves out. I no longer believe that good things come to those who wait or that the meek shall inherit the earth. It's not true I can be anything I want if I set my mind to it or that that one day I will win the lottery (the latter, mainly, because I do not squander hard earned money on such foolish enterprises).

I, I ... I *gasp* . My gawd, I do have a tendency to fixate on me!

On the other hand, what exactly were you expecting? I mean, this blog doesn't have a cohesive topic, it's not fabricated to dish out the scoop of the day, and you probably won't find a mad rush of people dropping by every morning for something meaningful to discuss around the water cooler (if companies are still doling out free water in this gawd forsaken economy). Hell, it doesn't even have very good pictorial accompaniments. Did the title imply some significance?

Welp, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid the best you're going to get here is off the cuff musings about stuff I find interesting, messed up, or controversial enough to write about, and aside from that, very little else. Blogging is just a way for me to keep my writing skills limber and, if you will, unleash the beast within. The good news is, I hope to write something, anything, even two freaking lines, every weekday. That way both of us will have something to look forward to when we drag ourselves out of bed in the morning. Kind of makes me feel all tingly inside.

So, if you're ever feeling out of sorts, a little down on yourself, or slightly out of touch, drop on by. Soon, you should be able to take comfort in the fact that there's a designated place in cyberspace where you can surf to read the naked ramblings of someone so much more out of sorts, down on themselves, and slightly out of touch than you. And isn't that what this blogging thingie is all about anyway? Creating an outlet? A little oasis in the relentless bombardment of stuff that truly matters?

Mmmmmm, I couldn't say for sure. But I'm about to find out.

weblog

Reckons of Crass Construction

Wordless Wednesday: Easier Than Getting The Operation

Related articles

Look What The Cat Dragged In

Related articles

Bizarre and useless stuff for when you're bored out of your gourd

Related articles by Zemanta

Wordless Wednesday #2

Related articles by Zemanta

Disappointment in the dumps and Alfred Hitchcock bird freakout

Gardening provides calming diversion from kick in the teeth

Related articles by Zemanta

Flashback Friday recalling bounty of Artscape

Related articles by Zemanta

Grab My New Button

Related articles by Zemanta

New Charles Town Races commercial boasts 5,000 of the newest sluts

Related articles by Zemanta

Wordless Wednesday

Related articles by Zemanta

George Clooney lavish wedding ceremony

Jim Brochin campaign message worth sweating record summer temperatures

Friday flip-offs first edition

Telltale signs pointed to prison for Lindsay Lohan before sentencing hearing

Today's Linky: Suddenly Sandy and the Sunhine Award

Baltimore Inner Harbor 4th of July fireworks up close and personal - Part II

Baltimore Inner Harbor 4th of July fireworks up close and personal - Part I

Faint Friday smashing free for all

New blogger share buttons all the rage

The Carnival of Rants

Reality Whore: roadside pitstop

Virgin blames customs and other USA Today headlines blues

Hot sexy videos are a scream

Today's Linky: post-it notes Wednesday

Reality Whore: let the road trip begin

Social Parade Follower Friday keeps starting earlier

Blogger Buzz: Blogger Template Designer Now Available To Everyone

I have a huge .... linky

Don't let Droopy Dog face behind gun counters

Tossing my cussing entry into the fantastic cuss challenge

What you did this weekend and other stuff that makes my skin crawl

Social Parade Follower Friday will win friends and influence people

Closing of ESPN Zone will leave a hole in Baltimore hearts

Israeli-Palestinian conflict awash in war of words

Today's Linky: Of Cabbages and Kings

Same sex kiss could jump start these flagging celebrity careers

Longing to swap places with Christian Louboutin Barbie

Yeah, but can she balance a checkbook?

It's a social parade!

Will someone please explain Technorati to me

It's just like a mini-mall

You in your infinite wisdom know best dear

Today's Linky: a tribute to actor Dennis Hopper

Memorial Day memorialized

Building better blogger connections through BlogLovin

Memorial Day weekend grocery store haikus

I can come up with a blog post day contest

George Washington Elementary School students betrayed by cheating administrators

Horrific car accident a lasting lesson in time management

Reality Whore: the reality

Baltimore puppy killers deserve punishment befitting crime

Pissed off, rankled and other stages of unfettered umbrage

Blind expectations nip shot at mother of the year

Inspiring those who would rather be left to their own devices

Trying to glean tricks and tips from Blogger Buzz

Good tree cutting service makes good neighbors

Pacifying the unemployment monkey with a to do list

Disgusting wedding customs kickoff the season

Arizona law makes it a crime to be illegal immigrant

Bandanas could be key to Bret Michaels brain hemorrhage mystery

It's not all about me