Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Post Secret's not so Dirty Little Secret....

For some reason this morning, I decided to watch VH1 instead of the news, hadn't done it the while, and seeing new videos (and they only play videos early in the morning because the rest of day is but chockfull of really lame shows that I have been guilty of watching...) can sometimes make me feel real "hip" and "in the know" of what's going on in the world. It helps me feel 29 (my real age) again.

So anyway.

The All-American Rejects has this new video "Dirty Little Secret" and the entire video was based on a blog called PostSecret (which is pretty darned cool and highly addictive if you're not too careful.) I checked out the TAAR site just to see if there's a link or some sort of recognition given to the entire inspiration of the this blog and couldn't find any, or it's well hidden. Went on PostSecret and found this under the Frequently Asked Questions:
Did The All-American Rejects Steal Your Images For Their Music Video?

No. The band made a generous donation of $2,000 to the National Hopeline Network. They were given full permission to use PostSecrets in their MTV video.

(To date, over $4,000 has been raised for 1-800-SUICIDE.)
Now, I don't want to get all negative, here, but $2,000????? And it was a donation and no money was paid directly to PostSecret's creator???!!!! Come on! Give me a break! This guy needs some money to keep his project going and he gets no credit in the video and I couldn't find the small print credit that might be on the TAAR website...

The PostSecret Book has been released.

First week sales are critical. Please buy a book or two this week to support the project.

The PostSecret book is a hardcover with 288 pages published by Harper Collins/Regan Books. All the postcard images are in color and many have never been seen before.

PostSecret: Extraordinary Confessions from Ordinary Lives

Is it wrong for me to feel severely annoyed by this?

This guy is a bigger human than I'll ever be....

Monday, November 28, 2005

Get your FREE iPods...Get your FREE iPods, right here!

Well, why don't I just come out and say it? Just click the link and sign up and then you can get your free iPod, too.

I'll get a free iPod, he'll get a free iPod, wouldn't you like to get a free iPod, too?

Come on, people. Get in the
free iPod giving spirit. Someone will think you spent a fortune on them. Or, be like me and just keep it for yourself.

Turkey Hangover.

Dear Diary,

I feel so fat, I'm bloated beyond belief. If I were on a plane that was gonna crash into the ocean right now, I could use my belly as a bloatation device.

I will eat nothing but lettuce and drink water today. I don't even care about losing weight, I just need to eat something clean and pure, unlike the over processed ingredients of the green bean casserole leftovers I'd been snacking on. Just thinking about the turkey carcass and petrified stuffing topped with the remaining jellied gravy is sending nauseating chills up my spine.

Thank God Thanksgiving is but once a year...

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

The President's Pardoned Turkey.

So, I just heard that Georgie-boy pardoned a turkey from being plucked, stuffed, devoured, and reheated for leftovers. Good for that turkey.

Now what about the others?

You know what I hate more than anything about this time of year? When some jerky guy starts making comments to a live turkey on TV about how "he'd better make a run for it", or "hey, you'd look fabulous on a platter with an apple stickin' outta yo' mouth", or something along those lines. How low do have to go to start hazing your future meals?

I think the same can be said for this hick I saw at the county fair we took our three year old son to this Summer. We were looking at ponies and chickens when someone squealed (yes, I know) about how cute the baby piglet was (now you get it?). I picked up Jack so that he could get look at the newborn little spotted pig with his mother when some asshole stepped in next to us with a beer in hand and turned to his buddy to say, "Hey, Earl! Get a load of this! This little piggy's got some real tender pork chops I like to put some sauce on!"

Oy. What can you do with these people? So half turned in his direction and said passive-aggressively, "Nice, real nice." But he didn't hear me, instead he moved on to drool over a lactating cow.

Happy Thanksgiving. And think of me and the poor turkeys (sp?) sacrificed for our day of glutton....I'm doing better than our feathered friends but I am doing all the cooking this year, wish me luck.

Monday, November 21, 2005

There's more than one way to catch a mouse.

scritch-scritch, scratch-scratch......(pattering of tiny feet running across the ceiling)

The cats freeze, their ears perk up, and they crouch low to the ground. John hits the mute button on the TV. "Did you hear that?" he asks.

"Hear what?" I say playing dumb. I am not about to be involved in the witch hunt.

"Huh. I don't know, I thought I heard something, like maybe a mouse in the attic." He turns the volume back up while I begin to sweat trying to come up with a plan that will work. I'm on a mission to keep this uninvited creature out of harm's way.

A few years ago, Molly (the cat) had taken to sitting on the dining room table and staring at the wall for days at a time. I knew why, but John, who had never had a pet before I brought my cats into his life, hadn't a clue. I tried to distract her with catnip infused toy mice but shortly after the herb induced buzz wore off, she'd be back to staring at her favorite wall.

The next night, John woke me up to tell me that Molly had a mouse. "So?" I said pulling the blankets over my face. "No, Deb. A REAL mouse."
I jumped up out of bed and started to have flashbacks of a childhood spent wrestling varmin out of my cats' clenched teeth. The poor little mole or baby chipmunk that they'd catch a bring home bleeding a squealing in pain that I'd end up burying or trying to nurse back to health. My mom had even fashioned a little shoebox kennel with holes and a little cut-out window with a screen so that I could do my veterinary duties.

Almost always, the tiny animals would just lie in there shaking until they died. One time a baby squirrel recovered pretty well, but when I finally set it free outside it was still in shock. It didn't run away when I set it in the woods, it just sort of sat there and looked at me. It started hop away cautiously, and then I just said a little prayer hoping for the best. I went back inside and put my eyedropper of milk and shoebox away just wishing it wouldn't have to come that again.

I grabbed my glasses and ran into the dining where Molly sat growling with a mouse head sticking out of one side of her mouth and a limp tail out of the other. Lucy (the other cat) sat next to her waiting for her share, I shooed her away. No animals were gonna to die a gruesome death on my watch.

I crouched down next to Molly and cooed her telling her what a good girl she was that she caught the mouse, but she wasn't buying it. Mouse in mouth, she trotted off down the hall and into the cream-colored carpeted family room. Now I had to save a mouse without staining the floor with blood and guts. Without thinking I grabbed Molly and a pryed open her jaw. The mouse dropped and layed still. It was too late. Molly growled and squirmed wanting at it, and then all of the sudden the mouse perked up and took off crawling along the wall and disapeared. John yelled that I should have let Molly kill it and should have known better that the mouse was only playing dead. I told him only possums play dead and did he really want to watch Molly commit murder and ruin the carpet at the same time?

The next night was a deja vu. John woke me up and there was Molly with the mouse again and Lucy sitting next to her like a guilty accomplice. Didn't the mouse learn it's lesson the first time? Whatever, I knew exactly what to do. "Get me a big cup!"

"What? What big cup?"

"You know, one of those big plastic cups, like the one you got at the Indian's game- Hurry!!"

"I don't know what good that's gonna do, just let her kill it! It's a goddamned mouse, Debbie."

"I don't care! Now get me that cup!"

"Jesus Christ..." John came back with the cup, "Is this one okay?"

"Perfect, okay, now Molly, open up..." I straddled the cat and placed the cup over her face and worked my fingers into the back of jaw forcing it open. She growled and made noises like demons were taking over her body, she wiggled around and I clenched her tighter between my knees, "Now, hold still, will ya?" Even though her mouth was almost open all the way the mouse was still stuck, so I tried to get it out and then when I got it I felt this incredibly painful pinch on the inside of my pinky finger. "Motherfucker! I'm trying to save you, you little shit!" I only say the big "F" when I'm in pain. It's just a knee jerk reaction.

I put the mouse in the cup and brought it outside. The following day I went to the doctor to get a tetnus shot. "Wait a minute, yo got bit by what? Are you telling me that you were saving a mouse? Do you know what a problem those things are? Serves you right getting bit. I hope you learned your lesson."

I can't help it. I just can't stand seeing an animal suffer. What a horrible way to die, being eaten by a cat.

We still get mice every Fall, and this year I finally found a humane trap that really works- and yes I've tried others. Even though John wants to use poison, (which I will not allow, because if the cat catches the poisoned mouse, it could get poisoned, too) he lets me catch them alive and he drives them out to the Metro Parks to set them free. He's afraid that if we just take it out to the back yard it will find it's way back in. So far, the new mouse catching system has been working out just fine, and all is right with world again...

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Public Service Announcement

Lyme's Disease is no day at the beach.*
*Click on the PSA link above for more information on how you can help.
Nevermind the "Engrish" used in the photo op of Hall and Oates singing with a Japanese popstar for a Coke advertsement. (scroll all the way down the link...)

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Houston: Hall & Oates have a problem...

Say it isn't isn't so-oooh-oh.

I just went shopping around for a Hall & Oates pic to upload to my last post and came upon the Official Hall and Oates Website. They have a blog, and dude, Daryl Hall has Lyme's Disease. Why wasn't I informed? Where are the telethons, America? Too busy trying to save the rest of the world when one of the greatest rock bands of all time is in trouble????

Here's Hall, with his post....what a brave soldier. By the way, could there be any more exclamation points(!!!!)


Lyme Disease

OK everybody! Here's my story so far...On Saturday, June 18th, I played a great acoustic show for a Northern Dutchess County Benefit. All went well - I felt fine.On Sunday, I woke up feeling as though I had been beaten with a baseball bat. My bones ached, I had a headache my skin and hair hurt!

Monday, I developed a fever of 103 degrees. Not pleasant, especially because I was supposed to fly to San Diego to play a show the following day. I talked to Brian Doyle: he suggested I travel the day of the show (Tues), opportunistically hoping that this was a 24 hour flu that would blow through me.

On Tuesday morning, I woke up with a 101 degree temp, but still left the house, drove 2 hours to JFK, flew 5 hours to LAX, drove 3 hours in traffic to San Diego and played the show! Talk about "Doing It For Love!"After the show, I literally thought I was going to drop dead!

I was supposed to do another show in San Diego the next day, but I told everyone to cancel - there was just no way I could do it.I then had two days off (supposedly to recover) in time for the next show in Phoenix. On the first day off, I traveled to L.A. (still with a fever), saw a doctor there, who gave me B12 and cortizone.

The following day, I still had a fever, but flew to Phoenix anyway. I felt terrible! It was 108 degrees in Phoenix and felt like 180 with my fever. At 8:00 p.m., I hit the stage.After about 4 or 5 songs (Used To Be My Girl), I suddenly felt a wave of fainting and nausea hit me and knew I had to stop immediately.

So, I just said, "Sorry everybody, but I have to leave the stage." John then took over, singing 3 or 4 songs. I could hear him from backstage and they sounded great. I particularly remember a great version of Italian Girls! (By the way, all this was recorded on the new "Instant Live" system, so if you're curious, you can get this show online!)

So anyway, there I was backstage - totally out of it - but my will (and maybe stupidity) won out. I returned to do a few songs at the end. Am I a trooper or what?!After that, I realized that it was not smart to continue the tour feeling the way I felt, with what I thought was a "killer flu." I returned to upstate NY where I just laid in bed for days with a fever that just wouldn't go away.

After more of this, I grew increasingly sure that this was not simply the flu!Sara Allen (my unofficial doctor up here) suggested I go to the local hospital for blood test to check for Lyme disease, a very common malady in the part of the world. I did this, and after having to wait out the drawn out 4th of July weekend, finally got my results sent to my Dr. in NYC.

I went into town to see the doctor, and he told me I tested positive for Erlichia, a tick-borne disease, but I was too early to get a reading on Lyme. I then showed him a three inch red ring with a bite-like center that had appeared the night before - Voila! Lyme Disease!

I have since been put on an antibiotic (doxycycline) for one month, and if all goes well (by no means assured), I will be cured. I hope this is the way it works out, 'cause I MISS YOU GUYS and want to get back on the road. Let's hope for the best.Lyme and other tick-related diseases are very serious maladies that for some reason have been underplayed by the media and medical profession. Chronic Lyme causes arthritis, heart problems, stroke - even death. This is serious stuff, and the public should be better informed, as it has reached epidemic proportions in the Northeast! You'll be hearing more from me about this.

Wish me well!Daryl

posted by Daryl at 5:34 PM

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Houston; we have a problem.

Okay, people. We've been experiencing some technical difficulties over here. I have to reinstall all the bloglinks and bunch of other crap, so bear with me....

I'm sorry things haven't been too happening on here, a bit of a writer's slump and cancelling out my AdSense account made for some issues.

But, I will give you a little something, like an interesting tidbit to chew on while you wait for the fog to lift over here. Think of it as that Muzak you're stuck listening to while left on hold when you try to call, oh let's say, your parole officer or something...

Here it is: In case you've ever wondered or were just too embarassed to ask, "Deb, what exactly does Smile if You're Lying really mean? Where does that saying come from?" Well, it's an old saying. Oh, you've never heard of it? Okay, it's an old saying from my family. When we were kids (my sister and I, that is) it seemed as though every single time we were coming home from somewhere with my mom, a Hall & Oates song would come on the radio. It was this really weird coinsidence that never failed. I mean this didn't seem so out of the ordinary in the seventies and eighties when they were always on the radio, but this continued into the nineties. Every time we were going home. It got to the point where if we were on a way to somewhere to run another errand and Hall & Oates came on, we actually figured that it was some sort of sign that it was time to go home. It still happens to me every once in a while now when I'm alone. But if I'm out with my mom, and we're not listening to NPR or talk radio, it will come on for sure. What are the gods trying to tell us????

Okay, so back to "smile if you're lying". "Your Kiss is on my List", the Hall & Oates song has a line in it that goes "I only smile when I lie". Whenever I wanted to bust my big sister to watch her get in trouble I would say, "Smile if you're lying!" It ussually worked. But then she'd get better at covering up, so I'd have to make faces or funny voices until she cracked and then I could take in the sights of her getting in trouble because she'd been a liar.

Hope that little nugget holds you over...

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Let's Hope My Husband Doesn't Read This...

That said, chances are he won't, but in the event that he does, he should not be ashamed or embarassed for his actions....

The Naked Truth

One of the things that irritate me the most about being told what’s fashionable is that it completely undermines what everybody is already wearing. Fashion critics are always making appearances on those morning news shows telling us what’s “in” this season. Oh, so now it’s not okay to wear pink pants? But last year you were all excited about the pink pants. Have you listened to yourself talk? “Chartreuse is the new orange! And pink is definitely OUT! If you are still wearing pink, you need to get a magazine and take a good look at what’s going on the world! Honestly, if I see anymore pink, I might puke!”

I’m reduced to sobbing in my closet feeling completely lost. Now what? Should I just chuck everything out and send it off to Goodwill? I don’t really care for chartreuse day-glow green or even what used to be hot, orange. I love how these fashion editors make these statements about what color is hot. Have they stopped to consider how ridiculous someone, such as myself, might look sporting a bright green shirt? It’s not going to work with my pasty, pale complexion. I’m just going to have to be out of style and wear pink.

You can never be in fashion. It is impossible to keep up. I have a real hard time agreeing with some of the choices stars wear for award show dresses. A well known actress was wearing what I thought to be incredibly hideous gown. She was so pale and that black tulle and lace dress completely washed her out and made her look like a heroine addict gone Goth. But all the fashion critics raved, claiming it was a hot new trend she was setting. That’s fashion forward. It’s not enough to be in style now. You must be constantly moving forward. So how should I dress now? If now is out and forward is in, should I dress like I’m from the future? But what about the past? Oh, that’s retro.

And what about these runway shows? There are definitely some weird “clothes” there. Designers throw together these gowns of exaggerated proportions made of new age materials like tin and gravel. There’s never anything sensible to wear. Then there are those people sitting in the front row, straining their necks to look at these odd creatures wearing even odder creations. And they’re all taking notes. What are they writing down?

The models walk very strangely, too. Who walks like this? It would really be something to actually be out somewhere and see someone walking around like this. And they look very pissed, although who could blame them? If it were me, I’d want out of those ridiculous things, too.

And it seems perfectly acceptable to be mostly nude and walk around when you’re a runway model. Nipples everywhere. I don’t understand how it’s okay for the runway nipple to be broadcast on the news that’s doing a segment on “Fashion Week” but never acceptable anywhere else. I guess it’s because the models are practically flat.
It’s comparable to seeing a three-year-old girl running around on a beach with only her bathing suit bottoms on. Nothing strange about that.

But I find it rather ironic how the only fashion show that you would rarely see a nipple is Victoria’s Secret. It’s the only show where the models actually get to wear bras, and underwear for that matter. They also can’t take the chance exposing the nipples because they belong to bigger breasts. For whatever the reason, the bigger the breast, the more obscene the nipple is. It’s the truth.

There is a line to be drawn with nude offensiveness of a man verses a woman. If a woman went around the city flashing people, the only ones who might make a call to the police is another woman. It’s hard to picture a man calling that complaint in.

“Excuse me officer, but there’s this woman flashing people around town. I really think you need to send out a squad car or something.”

“Is she good looking? Does she have a nice body?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Then I don’t see what the problem is, sir.”

“What do you mean? She’s naked!”

“Now, look, if she was ugly and fat or even a man for that matter, then I think we’d have something to deal with. But she looks good and no women are calling it in, so how about we just look the other way and let her have her fun, alright?”

Now if a man is flashing, that’s a whole ‘nother story. People would call the police immediately. Both men and women would have a big problem with that. It would make the news and the guy would be taken away in handcuffs.

If we had more male nudity in R-rated movies, would that help ease our fears? There are naked women all over the place and nobody’s up in arms about it. But if a male actor dares to show it all, people are talking. It’s a really big deal.

I remember when my friends and I went to see Young Guns. We only went to ogle at all the cute guys in the movie and couldn’t care less about cowboy and Indian story. One scene took place in a whorehouse where Emilio Esteves got up out of bed to look out the window and he was naked. His bare ass was right there for the whole theatre to see. My friend Margie and I got so excited about it. And when he put his pants on she yelled out “Rewind it! Rewind it!”

Men are much freer about their bodies, too. Women should really take a lesson from them. I cannot stand to be naked unless necessary. When I get out of the shower, I towel off and put on some underwear. I don’t linger around in the nude. I really don’t want to see my body in its true form long enough to make me depressed. My husband on the other hand likes to streak in the house.

He really doesn’t sit around naked, and I appreciate that. For the most part he’s very modest, except for when he gets out of the shower. Something about all the hot water and soap loosens him up. Because once he steps out and dries off he feels like a new man. He’s ready to make the long trip from the shower to his closet naked.

I’ve asked him why he does it. “How about a robe or even a towel around your waist?”

“What do I need that for? I’ve got two hands; one for the front, one for the back. I think I’m doing okay.”

Now there’s a good thirty-five foot dash from the bathroom to the bedroom. The windows are wide open and he’s in for the run of his life.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Next on my list of things to do...

Not enough to write about lately, so I'll bore you with my next task on the to-do list, which would be so much fun to call the "ta-da!" list.

I shall, right before your very eyes, get rid of the annoying AdSense ads. It's not like it's really making me a lot of money. Not even enough to buy a cup of coffee, not the frothy kind, I'm talking not even enough to buy me a cup from a coffee vending machine in a truck stop in the middle of Pennsylvania.

So much to do, so much to do....

Thursday, November 10, 2005

And the winner is...

Micycle Tricycle! Congratualions, Mike. You've helped rid this blog of that really annoying "l" thingy that was hanging out and the top of every post on here. For those of you that don't remember or are new here, there was this little lower cased "l" on top of every post. Somehow, it invited itself on here and wouldn't leave. I don't know who put it there (probably me) or what it wanted (cash), but I can tell you this: I am not done investigating this (yes, i am).

Anyway, let's hear it for Mike, a hero and damned good blogger. If you haven't checked out his blog, then you're a fool, because it is one of the best blogs out there. And I don't know if that's saying a lot, because there's a lot of blogs that suck. In fact about 93.8% really, really stink. And he has link to this blog which makes him extra cool.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Hello? Is it me you're looking for....

Okay, it's been about a week and, oh, so much has happened. I suppose you want to hear about it, now.

  • I buried a chickadee.
  • I ate too much refined sugar and it has thrown my organic food consuming body into a spin causing me to have night sweats.
  • I have baked a lot of cookies.
  • I have some kind of spasm in my back from raking leaves.
  • I went to the eye doctor.
  • I went to the library.
  • My books finally arrived from eBay.
  • Only one of my handbags sold on eBay, with all the advertising fees verses the profit, I broke even.
  • I carved a pumpkin, it is sitting outside and molding away quite nicely.
  • I gave candy to the 3 trick-or-treaters that showed up and realized that once again I bought too much candy for fear that if I didn't buy enough the trick-or-treaters would turn on me.
  • We drove around to look at houses for sale.
  • I've been watching too many ghost shows and am convinced there is a ghost in our house. Or at least the one that turns on the attic light every once in a while for no reason at all.