Monday, August 29, 2016

HOUSEWIVES OF NEW YORK ...

 

OK.  It's been a long LONG time since I blogged about these bitches, but last week's episode was especially juicy.  Allow me to update you all on the latest.  LuAnn, the Countess of Taste and Living Large became engaged to the love of her life after dating three weeks.  What can you say ... when you know, YOU KNOW.  To celebrate her engagement and eventual marriage the ladies all went down to Miami for a Bachelorette party and ... well unfortunately, all hell broke loose.  You see it seems there are a couple of other housewives who ALSO KNOW LuAnn's man.  That is to say ... in the sack.  NOW, I for one was not the least bit surprised about Sonja Morgan being one of the aforementioned lovahs because it is no secret that Sonja is a little hot to trot, but Ramona?!  I think she was supposedly still married to Mario when they "dated".  OK I've been married for twenty years and it may just be me, but I thought once you married the dating thing stopped?  Anywhoo, LuAnn is on Cloud Nine and floating right down the river of denial and is not concerned in the least that she hardly knows this man.  She is blissfully in love with the idea of being in love and also with her gazillion carat engagement ring.  

Well, because Bethenny has friends who get out and about, one of these "friends" saw the Countess's fiancee making out with a person of the female persuasion at the bar of the St. Regis hotel where EVERYONE KNOWS THE COUNTESS!  Apparently, Tom has not been very faithful to the Countess.  Said "friend" snapped a pic and sent it to Bethenny. 

YUP.  A PICTURE OF THE MAN ENGAGING IN THE DIRTY DEED.  Bethenny withholds this information until the last day of LuAnn's bridal party trip to Miami and drops the bomb on LuAnn the day they are to leave.  LuAnn, understandably loses her shit, gets on the phone with her intended, and accuses him of humiliating her to all of New York. 

FAST FORWARD to now. 



LuAnn has now explained how devastated Tom was to have hurt LuAnn so because he REALLY REALLY loves her and her cash and, what can she say?  He fucked up.  We all make mistakes right?  So La Marriage is still on and Tom, the aggrieved fiancĂ©e, telephoned Dorinda, the housewife who introduced them, to inform her of "THE STORY" that will be told about his alleged infidelity of which he cannot remember because he was drunk.  Dorinda was SHOCKED and said that she would not lie for them.  So long story short, I don't think LuAnn is inviting ANY housewives to her nuptials which are still on because she is desperate and needs to prove everyone wrong even though this marriage will last about as long as the three week engagement.  Whatevah.

You know there's nothing sadder than an old broad who is still that desperate to be with a man.  Honestly, you can look at it one of two ways.  Either she is eternally hopeful and optimistic, or she is desperately needy to the point of seeing what everyone else can see and refuses to do so.  So with that said, LuAnn I wish you lots of luck ... you're gonna need it. 

And Countess ... p.s.  Please change your tired hairstyle.  Thank you.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

WORK ...

I decided to drive to work today.  BIG MISTAKE.

Yesterday the “express” bus was early.  I saw it arrive as I was racing down Olive Street to catch it.  There it was like a beacon, waiting, as I stood on the corner across the street with a gigantic red light staring at me.  I knew the light would not change in time.  I knew I wasn't going to make it so there was no point in running so I just opted to take the “regular” bus (or as I refer to it, the gente bus)… that’s the bus that stops one hundred and fifty-five times and has a various assortment of folks getting on and off, and passengers racing to get to the good seat that has just been vacated.  Needless to say it was crowded with humanity and luckily I managed to get a seat by the window where I stayed put. It was a super crowded ride home and the one good thing about being an older gal is that you don't have to feel guilty for sitting and not offering your seat to someone older than you because you're old too. 

Halfway home our bus driver pulls over and stops and instructed all of us to de-bus and get on the bus behind us.  “What?  Do I have to pay again?”  No.  So everyone on the bus empties out and gets on the other bus that was more crowded than the first bus we were on.  Add to that the one crazy man up front talking nonstop to the poor bus driver who didn’t have the heart to punch him in the throat.  You will get one of these crazies at least once a week.  There was once a drug addicted meth addict who got on the bus in East LA and then cursed a blue streak while she talked to herself.  She become so unruly at one point that the bus driver had to step in and scold her.  Her response?  She got off at the next stop and told everyone to go fuck themselves. 

I got home at 7 pm.  An hour and fifteen minutes to travel thirteen miles.  Yes.  Thirteen Miles.  On a Saturday with no traffic it takes 20 minutes to drive it.  But this isn’t Saturday.  THAT is why I decided to drive in today.  I didn’t want to deal with a crowded, hot bus and the dregs of humanity breathing on me.  Know how long it took me to get to work?  An hour and 15 minutes.  By the time I got to work I needed a nap. 

See the stairs ... horrible.
Most days I take the bus.  But once I get off the walk to my office consists of climbing up 180 stairs of which I have to stop and rest, pant, and then I can continue on as younger, fitter dick wads race past me two steps at a time.  Years ago right beside this stairway was the famous Angel’s Flight which was a little cable car on a tram that carried you up to Bunker Hill where my office is.  Unfortunately, several years ago the little cable car came careening down the track killing an elderly man who was inside it and it has been out of use ever since.  So now, I have to climb the steps, which for me is me akin to climbing Everest except that it smells like urine, is littered with dog shit, old hypodermic needles, broken beer bottles and an occasional bum wrapped in a blanket talking to himself. 
This is my morning commute.  Every.  Day.  

Thank you.




Thursday, August 18, 2016

IN LIGHT OF THE CURRENT ELECTION CYCLE ...

I thought I'd repost a little ditty I wrote back in 2011.  I wrote a funny little post about my running for president which I thought was hilarious although there were some who called me Socialist. 







Repost - 2011





So after much thought and serious consideration I have decided to throw my hat into the ring and run for President (hell, if Michelle Bachman and Donald Trump can do it then so can I). I am running for the Truth, Freedom and Fairness Party and this is what I'm gonna do for YOU! 
 

1. No wars. EVER.




2. Tax the excrement out of all rich bankers/CEOs and Wall Street billionaires (no excuses, no tax loopholes/tax shelters or write-off's, EVER. You will pay 50% income tax on all of your earnings in full, every year, WITHOUT QUESTION, for the rest of your lives. Thank you. (happy face)




3. No taxes, EVER for any working stiff. They've paid enough taxes to last the next five decades. Under my Presidency, all working Joe's will get a big fat break including 4 weeks of paid vacation every year and sick days when you're sick. And NO MORE "AT WILL" employment or "RIGHT TO WORK" states EVER.
 
4. Wall Street - next time you get into a jam ... YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN. PERIOD.





5. All the jobs that have been "outsourced" must come back to the United States IMMEDIATELY and all super, wealthy CEO's who sold out America by outsourcing jobs will now have to hire American workers at no less than $30 an hour, provide medical/dental and vision insurance, long term disability and also provide a cost of living raise EVERY YEAR for EVERY SINGLE EMPLOYEE. PERIOD. (Watch how fast the economy picks up!  Your little pinheads will spin).

6. All monies (taxes) that have been used to fund the wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya
(and God knows where else cause you know all these politicians lie like a bunch of rugs) must be refunded to every single taxpayer with a letter of apology and a complete accounting of what every penny was used for.  IN DETAIL.






7. The draft will be re-instituted. However, we will not take the young. The young will be provided with free college educations and/or training in the area of whatever their heart's may desire. The draft will now consist of rich, fat, flag-waving, right wing Americans who so love America ... now, YOU CAN PROVE IT. We will start with the TV and radio personalities, Limbaugh, Beck, O'Reilly, Coulter, etc.) You fuckers go fight for a while - lose a limb, an eye, a ball ... I don't give a crap. And, upon your return, when you are suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome ... TOO BAD. No aid for you. Pull yourselves up by your bootstraps and deal with it.






8. Women will now make more money than men. FOREVER. And no sexual harassment of any kind will be tolerated EVER. PERIOD. END OF STORY. Furthermore, any trial or mediation that may result from a sexual harassment charge, the "Harasser" will heretofore be considered GUILTY until proven INNOCENT. Put that in you pipes and smoke it ... assholes.
 


9. ANYONE caught lying/bribing/cheating/stealing/whoring will be banned from public office. FOREVER. NO QUESTIONS ASKED. And get some therapy ... on your own dime you jerk-offs.


10. And last but not least, lunch at all places of employment, from now on will now be two hours long. You've worked hard all your lives .... enjoy your lunch dammit!



SO ... COME ON EVERYBODY! WHOSE WITH ME?!
   








SEE!  HILARIOUS RIGHT?!   

FOR THIS ELECTION CYCLE I WILL ADD THE FOLLOWING TO MY PLATFORM:




1.  Instead of ousting and denying Muslims entry into this country, I’m going to oust all rich, white, billionaires, CEO’s, hedge fund managers, and  bankers who are currently living in the United States and send them off to the countries where they're hiding all their illegally earned and non-taxed cash.





2.  I’m going to carpet bomb (well, maybe area rug bomb) Trump Tower, Wall Street, and all Walmarts, and if innocent people die … oh well. 




3.  I’m going to make all the cowardly, rich, white, right wing conservatives who were YELLOW during the Vietnam war (e.g., Donald Trump, Dick Cheney, George W., Rush Limbaugh, Mitt Romney, and just for good measure I'm going to throw in Ted Cruz, Mike Pence and Chris Christie) and send them all to Afghanistan.  Stay there for about a year.  Absorb.  Then … I want you to write me a paper in 1,000 words or less, about how you really feel about “boots on the ground.”




4.  I want Donald Trump and Mike Pence to build the wall separating Mexico from the U.S.  And I mean the two of them alone.  Yes.  You read correctly.  Donald and Mike.  You guys buy the bricks, get the mortar, build the wall.  And Donald, since you're very VERY rich (as you love to keep reminding everyone) the cost of this undertaking should be just a drop in the bucket for a gazillionaire like you.  You can pay for all the supplies.  [insert happy face here].  I know it's daunting, but it will make you the darling of the Tea Party, so look at it as labor well invested. 



And, last but not least ...





5.  I  want all of you to study the Constitution and report to me (with citations and references) all instances where it says that you can BOMB anyone, anywhere, anytime. 





Thank you.

SO ... WHOSE WITH ME?!

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

RE-RUN ...

A Whine ...

I HATE bending over.  If I'm sitting in a chair and I drop my pen and I have to bend over to pick it up I'm all FUCK!  Whenever I vacuum and the vacuum does not pick up a tiny piece of paper or a sliver of thread that I've already passed the vacuum over ten times I will leave it there until the next time I vacuum.  And you know that that damn piece of paper or sliver of thread will remain on the carpet in the exact same location until the end of time until I finally bend over and pick it up.  However, if I happen to catch the edge of the bedspread with the vacuum cleaner that vacuum will suck up the entire bedspread.  WHY IS THAT?  Or how come whenever I drop an earring or some other precious memento onto the carpet and the only LOGICAL PLACE ON EARTH it could possibly be is within a small diameter of space where I dropped it but, somehow despite the rules of quantum physics, time and space, that fucken earring will have bounced from the spot on the carpet and magically appear downstairs under the sink?  I HATE when that happens.

The other day I lost my glasses.  I had them in my hand.  I FELT them in my hand.  I KNOW they were in my hand and then ... they were gone.  I was in the living room when I lost them.  I didn't leave the living room, go upstairs and make a cartwheel and then go into the kitchen.  The only logical place they could possibly be was somewhere in the living room.  I looked and looked and looked and cursed a blue streak because THEY WERE IN MY FUCKING HAND TWO SECONDS AGO!!!  And I swear, whenever these types of things happen I am certain I am losing my mind.  How could something be there and then ... be gone?  It's like magic.  So, after going upstairs three times to search for my stupid glasses (even though I KNEW there was no way in hell they were going to be upstairs ... I go upstairs anyway) and they're not there.  I retrace my steps for 20 minutes until I finally give up.  I sit on the couch to watch TV and now I can't find the remote.  CRAP.  I look around and see it on the floor ... AND OF COURSE I have to bend over to pick it up ... and THERE ... between the end table and the sofa ... were my glasses. 




Thursday, July 14, 2016

NINE THINGS MEN HATE HEARING FROM THEIR WIVES


I read this little gem in The Huffington Post.  

1. “Nevermind, I’ll just do it myself.”
Marriage pro tip:  When you ask your spouse to call the plumber to fix the sink, give him a chance to do it. Rolling your eyes and saying, “nevermind, I’ll do it myself” may result in you getting your sink fixed sooner, but it’s also likely to rub your spouse the wrong way.

I agree.  I don’t know why these ladies get their panties in a twist.  What’s wrong with waiting a couple months or years?  It’ll get done eventually and THAT is the point.  

2. “You should have known.”
You’re setting yourself up for disappointment if you expect your hubby to decipher every last gesture and statement you make, said Ryan Howes, a clinical psychologist based in Pasadena, California.  “Women become upset when their husbands can’t read between the lines or read their minds but guys are notoriously poor mind readers,” he said. “Wives will save themselves a lot of grief if they can come to accept this and just ask for what they want.” 

I agree.  Next time my husband’s ex-wife calls up and asks him if he can “do her a favor” and he just immediately says “yes” without asking me I won’t get upset.  I mean what’s the big deal?  She was his first wife, therefore her needs should come first, right?
(p.s.  I love my husband's ex-wife.  What I don't love is when he forgets to check with me about important stuff!)

3. “Do you think she’s hot?”
Do you really want to know your husband’s thoughts about an attractive woman? Probably not ― plus, you’re putting your spouse in an uncomfortable, no-win situation, said Kurt Smith, a therapist who specializes in counseling men.  “Most men have already identified the pretty women in the room; if he’s trying to respect you then he should be already trying not to look, so you pointing her out will only make him more self-conscious, uncomfortable and unsure of what to do to not upset you or hurt your feelings,” he said. 

Oddly enough this does not bother me.  If my husband wants to leave me for a “hot” chick good luck.  First, she's going to want to procreate and then stay home.  And I seriously doubt that she will clean the oily urine stains from the bottom of the toilet bowl.  Good luck with that.

4. “We need to talk.” 
No four words strike fear into a married man’s heart quite like “we need to talk.” Opt for something less ominous sounding the next time you bring up an issue, said Marcia Naomi Berger, a therapist and author of Marriage Meetings for Lasting Love: 30 Minutes a Week to the Relationship You’ve Always Wanted.  “The phrase ‘we need to talk’ is often a signal that the wife has complaints or criticism about the husband,” she said. “He assumes he somehow failed you and withdraws, creating a disconnect, which is the exact opposite of what you were trying to accomplish.”

I think No. 4 should be when the husband asks the wife “What do you want to do?”  In my case for instance, this means that even though the husband is asking you “what do you want to do” what he really means is he’s giving you the opportunity to tell him what you want to do even though he knows that y'all are going to do what HE wants to do anyway.  Therefore, when your husband asks you "what do you want to do?" you should just accept the fact that you are not going to do what YOU want to do.  It’s easier than sticking a fork in his head.  Because you know damn well his skull is as thick as cement and that fork will never penetrate it.  

5. “Man up.”
Seriously? There’s no right or wrong way to be a man. For your spouse’s sake, let your gender expectations go and try to have a civil conversation. 

“Telling your spouse to ‘man up’ is a brutal attack on his core identity,” Howes said. “It’s a statement loaded with contempt and shame and could create relationship damage that will be difficult to heal.” 

I NEVER tell my man to “man up”.  I say this because I have accepted the fact that though he is a old fart, in his mind he is a 15 year old boy.  Accepting this will save the wife tons of aggravation.

6. “Pick up after yourself. I’m not your mother.”  
There are better ways to encourage your spouse to put his dirty socks in the hamper than telling him you’re tired of feeling like his mom.

“Bringing up mom piles baggage onto what’s probably already a loaded situation,” Smith said. “Many men are sensitive about their relationship with their mother, so suggesting he still wants or needs his mom is not a way to encourage him to change behavior you don’t like.”

If men are sensitive to their relationships with their mothers they need to get over it and just do what the wives say.  It’s very simple.  Underwear does not go on the floor.  In order to combat this problem I simply pick up his dirty underwear and hang in on the front doorknob.  If I have to see it, then the entire world has to see it. 

7. “You never, you should have, you ought to...”
Sorry, but chiding your spouse about how he never does the dishes (or takes out the trash or drives the kids to school) isn’t likely to inspire change, Berger said.  “Saying someone ‘never’ does something leaves no wiggle room for improvement ― it’s like casting a fault of his in stone,” she said. “It’s much better to say, ‘I’d appreciate it if you would empty the dishwasher tonight,’ for example. And when he does, thank him and you can expect more help in the future.” 

No wife wants to tell her husband the above.  HOWEVER, see answer to No. 5 above.  Remember, emotionally he is 15.  And why the hell do I have to THANK him for emptying the dishwasher?  I do that 50 fucking times a day.  GET A SPINE.


8. “You’ve put on a few pounds lately, huh?” 
Instead of pointing out changes in your spouse’s appearance, be supportive and tell him you’d love if he joined you at your cycle class sometime, said Becky Whetstone, a Little Rock, Arkansas-based therapist.  “Insinuating that his body is not like it once was will shrink his confidence  ― and he’ll probably up his calorie intake just to spite you!”

Unfortunately, my husband is a work out fanatic who burns calories like a furnace and can still wear bikini underwear size medium.  I, on the other hand, have turned into a hog.  And bless his heart, he doesn’t criticize.

9. “You’re going out with the guys again?”
Don’t look at Fantasy Football meet-ups and golf trips as threats to your marriage. It’s quite the opposite, actually; some time apart will likely do your relationship good, Howes said.  “Yes, sometimes a guy’s night is just an excuse to drink and fart but for many guys these are crucial times to connect, seek advice, get support and express some important emotions,” he said. “Wives who feel threatened by this or forbid their husband from attending may be cutting off a vital support system.”  The biggest bonus of guy time, according to Howes? “There’s a good chance he’ll actually be a better husband if he can compare notes with other husbands and dads.” 

My husband doesn’t do this too often.  But when he does, I do not feel threatened.  I'd rather have him drink and fart somewhere else than my home.  He does, however spend HOURS AND HOURS recreating.  So the gym and his bicycle are his other woman and I can’t really complain about that.

Thoughts ladies?

  

Sunday, May 22, 2016

YOU'RE NOT A YOUNG MAN ... BABY

Yet another adventure in Dannyland ...

SO, the plan was to go to the Ensenada/Rosarito Bike race the weekend of Danny's 62nd birthday.  The last time Danny went to Mexico was around 2010.  That weekend he was robbed of his phone, wallet, etc., et al., and it was basically a nightmare trying to locate where the hell he was.  Everytime I called his cell someone answered it but all I could hear was Mariachi music in the background.  Had he been kidnapped?  Was he being held for ransome?  Was his head on a stick along a highway?  Don't laugh ... it's crazy down there.  So when he arrived safe and sound, even though it was sans cell phone and credit cards, I told him that he would never EVER be allowed to go to Mexico again.  PERIOD.  


As is Danny's way he bugged and bugged and bugged and bugged and bugged and BUGGED THE SHIT OUTTA me to let him go to the bike race this year.  He cajoled, pleaded, begged, he promised gifts.  You have no idea how relentless a desperate man can be when he wants something.  Finally, I gave in.  It was either that or put a bullet in my head.  Besides, it was going to be a family weekend with lots of friends and I WOULD BE THERE to make sure he didn't lose his wallet, his phone, his bike, his mind, his head.  

Enter the UNFORESEEN.  My dear aunt passed away the week before we were to travel to Mexico.  As fate would have it, her memorial was scheduled for Danny's birthday, May 6, the day we were to leave for Mexico.  OF.  COURSE.
So, he goes to Mexico, I fly to Arizona to attend the service.

I call him when I arrive and the phone goes straight to voicemail.  FUCK.  I KNOW.  I ALREADY KNOW something is not right.  I call and call and the phone goes to voicemail all day Friday and all day Saturday ... no answer.  I cannot tell you how livid and worried I am.  THIS IS JUST LIKE DANNY.  That phone could be ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD.  My house, his car, a bathroom stall, a counter top, the Grand Canyon ... ANYWHERE.    

My trip was quick. Fly out Friday, fly home Saturday.  His trip, leave Friday, return Sunday.  I get home around 4 pm on Saturday.  I try calling him again.  Same result.  UGH.  If there's anything I hate it's hunting my husband down.  I hate feeling like a paranoid wife but what can I tell you, I'm a paranoid wife.  I leave voice mails AND texts with two friends who are with him.  No one returns my call or texts.  Oh shit.  Something is seriously wrong.  Around 10 pm I get a text that says ... "Hi.  We're coming home.  See you in a few hours."  WTF.  He's not due to come home until tomorrow.  What the hell is up?  I call his friend and he answers!  He gives the phone to Danny.  I wanted to scream at him but was so relieved he was on the phone and alive I just asked him what was going on?  "Well" he says "here's the thing.  I wrecked and cracked three ribs."  In my mind I'm like of course you cracked your ribs.  What else?  I questioned him about a planned trip we are scheduled to make the following week to the Philippines for our daughter's wedding.  He says he's going to see what the doctor says.  

Long story longer, he doesn't get home until 3:30 am looking HORRIBLE.  I should have rushed him to the ER right then but I was so F****ING mad at him for (1) not having someone contact me about his accident (his accident happened at 10 am Saturday morning!  I didn't learn anything about it until 10 pm that night) and (2) keeping me in the dark because he was afraid of what I'd do, that when he stumbled up the stairs wrapped in gauze and looking like he wanted to die I was so tempted to punch him in the face but instead just turned over and went to sleep.   

The following morning we went to the ER in The United States of America where they immediately did a CT scan, x-rays, drew blood and shot a dye into his veins to see if he had any internal bleeding in his chest.  He had three broken ribs, a broken collar bone, a broken scapula (shoulder blade) AND A BROKEN FINGER.  Naturally, we weren't able to go to the Philippines, lost money there, and I've spent my two week vacation taking care of him.  Here's the complaint.  All he watches on T.V. is SNAPPED, Anthony Bourdain, and other various cooking and murder shows.  I'M LOSING MY MIND ALREADY. 

Saturday, April 23, 2016

PRINCE .... R.I.P.

I cannot tell you how MUCH I LOVED Prince.  My one regret in life is that I never saw him perform live.  He was a true artist in every sense of the word.  A talent, a genius, a master showman.  There are not many artists like Prince left.  Bowie is gone ... it's just so sad when the artists of your youth pass.  

In the early 1980's when I was about 25 I was dating a douche who worked the door of a private club in Beverly Hills.  I saw lots of famous people there.  I met O.J. Simpson there (arrogant prick), saw Rick James, and .... PRINCE.  The whole room was buzzing.  Girls in the bathroom were whispering "OMG Prince is here!"   

I remember what I was wearing.  A long sleeved tight pink top with black polka dots and a short, black skirt (sounds stupid I know, but trust me ... it was very cute) ... My hair was big and wild and the eyeliner was heavy ... just like Prince's.

There he was.  All by himself, leaning against a wall, with a drink in hand wearing all purple.  I locked eyes with him for just a few seconds and then looked away.  I was never very bold in these types of situations, but I've often wondered what would have happened if I'd approached him or, at least given him a smile.  Who knows????  It could have been me instead of Apollonia.  

Now he's gone.  It felt just like when Bowie died. I literally almost cried.  I felt such sadness ... such shock.  But I do cherish the memory of having once been in a room with him.  

I know he was a very spiritual person.  So I would imagine that death is something he did not fear and probably welcomed ... he is onto the next journey ... eternity.  So rest in peace Prince.  And I hope I see you when I get there. 

I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE!!!!

I simply must address all these politicos who have fucked their way through life destroying the lives of countless people - usually women ...