WHAT??? A week, two days, 15 hours, and 9 minutes ago.
WHY??? Recovery time. Like sands through the hourglass....I'm running out of it.
HOW I FEEL? Like shit. Way too good.
HOW I LOOK? Like shit. Eyes swollen with dark bags underneath. My liver's not used to all this clean living.
WHAT MY FRIENDS ARE SAYING(behind my back): Bitch be a bore. WHAT MY FRIENDS ARE SAYING(to my face): Bitch, when are you gonna start drinking again? WHAT MY CHILDREN ARE SAYING: Who are you? and where have you taken our mother?
On the happy occasion of William & Kate's wedding, we passed around and signed a .99 cent wedding card, posted same, and forgot about it. Until today. Postmistress Vicki received the following in today's mail from Buckingham Palace.
Needless to say, we were thrilled to have been acknowledged-- right down to the very tips of our Revolutionary red toes. Wall Street and the Romanovs should have read that page in the ettiquette book on saying thank you. Obviously the Windsors know the power of good manners.
Kay and I had the great good fortune of seeing Hamlet today at the RIAF. In a very unconventional version of the play, the words of the Bard resonated across the centuries, to keep us literally on the edge of our seats until the very end.
I must say I really enjoyed the choreography of the sword fight, and the actors were wonderful...all had beautifully hypnotic speaking voices.
There are so many powerful soliloquies. But tonight I will leave you with this...
"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."
--Hamlet, scene ii
"Dirty scabs will cross the line while others stand aside and look…but ain’t nobody never got nothing’ that didn’t raise their voice and push.“
I am totally committed to OccupyTampa.org, but people 9:00 a.m. on Saturday? I have a late morning spa appointment, then lunch with chums at locavore bistro, whilst the Saab is being detailed. Couldn't the Revolution be scheduled for later in the day?
Junior Leaguers take lead to reshape how community defines and deals with poverty
Monday 10/10/11 St. Pete Times guest columnist Babs D. Bitch
Before
A “Poverty Simulation” event will be held Tuesday 10/11/11 to educate Junior League members in the Tampa Bay area on what it’s like to live in impoverished circumstances.
The event will take place from 9 a.m. – 2 p.m. at the St. Petersburg Yacht Club. Participants will discuss "recession chic," that will be the highlight of this month's Fashion Week in New York. Proceeds will go to the "bed bug infestation" project which will de-louse all new residents to Bay Area homeless shelters.
League president "Muffy" Martha van Wiffenpoofil, notes "it's no longer cool to be rich. We're going to teach our members how to channel 'recession chic,' with the latest offerings from the Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen collection available at Nieman Marcus in International Plaza. Come fall, fashion will follow the downward spiral of home values and investment portfolios, as designers embrace restraint with a dark palette and a severe moth-eaten silhouette "
In this hands on workshop gals will learn how to accessorize and add layering for that 'just right' panhandling look.
At the event, play money, props, fictional scenarios and time limits will be used to simulate situations with a lack of money, a ton of stress, enabling local Junior Leaguers to take on the roles of single-parent families, elderly persons living alone, and unemployed heads of households, and best of yet...dress the part!
Breakout sessions include:
"Downgrading your Beemer from leather to pleather."
"From Manalos to Payless."
"From Sax to Kohl's "
"Dumpster Diving for Family Fun."
"Bye to beluga, hello to cocktail weenies."
"Replace your Glen Livett with Mad Dog."
The event is by invitation only to current and sustaining League members. For further information on tickets call Goody van der Luyden at 813-666-7734.
Sent: Thursday, September 29, 2011 8:53 AM
To: Babs The Bitch
From: Postmistress Vicki
Dear Babs:
Here’s Heather doing her yoga pose last weekend. She’s only got about another 5 weeks to go. I’m going up next weekend for her baby shower.
To: Postmistress Vicki
From: Babs The Bitch
Ick Vick....that's disturbing. She should not be doing that. If my grandmother wasn't dead, she would pass out if she could see that. I bet that frickin hurts the baby, and promotes stretch marks. Call me old school, but that’s just not right.
Your forthright friend,
Babs
To: Heather
From : Postmistress Vicki
Hi Heather:
My friend Babs wanted me to make sure you got her thoughts on your yoga pose. Btw, Babs can't do yoga as it makes her fart!
me (your Mom)
To: Postmistress Vicki
From: Heather
Subject: Re: FW: redefining baby bump in week 33
Vicki:
Tell Babs to shut up, get a real name, and stop living in fear.
To: Heather
Cc: Postmistress Vicki
From: Babs the Bitch
Ha! Regarding names... Heather, Babs was a Saint, while Heather’s merely a fugly weed that grows in Scotland. Also Saint Babs is invoked against lightning strikes and sudden death, so baby girl, you better start giving your mother the props she deserves (start by calling her "Mom" better yet, "Mother dearest"...as you are not her equal). And just for the record, Babs does yoga. See below:
"Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose....There is no reason not to follow your heart. ... Stay hungry. Stay foolish."
Steve Jobs
-- Stanford University commencement address, June 2005
"Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do."
Dear Miz Emmy:
I work with a 52-year-old guy-- eloquent, witty, with two advanced professional degrees, who spends untold hours kvetching and wasting my time on the fact that he doesn't get play with the ladies.
Said dude lives at home with his Mom and Dad, which I think is bogus. Dude claims it's part of his "cultural" tradition, right, if being a goddamn cheapskate is part of your cultural tradition.
Anywho, guy's parents are footing the bill for him and his sister and brother-in-law to join them on a Christmas Cruise. Is it just me, or is it beyond weird that Mr. Cheap will be bunking on the pull-out cot in his parents' cabin? Suffice it to say, unless he removes batteries from Ma and Pa's hearing aids, he ain't gone get no play...but I think this borders on mildly ill. What if Ma and Pa want to get it on after winning the limbo contest for seniors? Is Pa going to hang his regimental rep tie on the cabin door?
Your thoughts. Can you bitch slap this dude for me? Maybe he'll listen to you Miz Emmy, get laid, and leave me alone...
-Perplexed Pal Dear Pal: Unless he is changing their diapers and spoon-feeding them pureed bananas, Dude has no business living with his parents at age 52. It's his "cultural tradition" to be a pussy? He needs to step up to the plate, and prove he's a self-sufficient adult capable of providing his own food and shelter, before any woman is ever going to give him a second glance. Tight-wad, mooch, hanger-on -- are these the descriptions that induce the feminine heart to flutter? Certainly not. And a grown man bunking with his parents on a cruise is nothing short of embarrassing. I am certain that when dude's parents made the offer, they were hoping that he would pony up the dough for his own digs, and save Dad from having to trip over his son's cheap ass every time he gets up in the night to shake hands with the Pope. And the woman Dude has been plying with Cosmos all night will definitely not be impressed when she is led to his room to discover the aging roommates, and is told, "Don't worry -- I stuffed their ears with cotton balls and put benadryl in their tea; they won't even know what's happening!" Talk about romantic...... I'm with you on this one, Pal. -Miz Emmy
I am firmly convinced that the Rays win only, and only if, I am knitting, not watching the game-- just knitting. With out fail, if I deign to stop to look up at the TV-- action on the field stops or, the balls go loosey goosey, or the other team scores (don't you adore baseball lingo?).
This has been my knitting output during the last two games with the evil Yankee empire. I axe you, wtf am I going to do with this 12 foot long furry angora scarf in Florida? Yea, yea, I can here the chorus of my sibs now "go hang yourself with that fugly scarf." Hey folks...coming to a Xmas tree near you...
When Jeter was at bat my needles would spark and fly with righteous indignation if not seething anger. Honest to God, I just hate that dude's cocky swagger, hauteur, and his "assume the position" batting stance.
For many of you who can't or won't read the video below sums it all up pretty well. FYI, I'm dating the tall one.
P.S. To the righteous and opinionated Mr. Parker Stone, & my readers in the UK & Oz who look down their noses at baseball as akin to watching paint dry...fuck you and kiss my ass. Have at it y'all, with your extreme frisbee and uber boring soccer. Oops aren't those games for 6th grade boys and 4th grade girls respectively? Jus sayin'.
Yay or Nay on "juicing" (you know, that little blue pill)? Please watch the video below, then comment and/or vote in the poll on the sidebar.
I don't waste one nanosecond of my precious time trying to change someone elses mind on ANYTHING (perhaps with the exception of potentially offing me or mine). Why?
1) I don't care what you think.
2) I don't care what you think of what I think.
3) When someone tells me what to think, I immediately think just the opposite.
4) Wayyy too much work!!
That said, I will give you my personal opinion about the little blue pill...fellas stop trying so hard (ha ha!). If you gotta juice,"you're not getting in."
Re-upped for 3 more months on e-Harmony. I believe in posting an honest profile. Avoids all that "getting to know you shit." Frick, I'm so bored with my own story, I can barely stand to tell it again. Honesty will ensure the dude "gets you," so as to avoid disappointment. Below please find my profile, complete with "must haves" and "can't stands."
The one thing I am most passionate about:
Me!!! Basic Information:
Occupation: Advanced degree in dying profession.
Age: 55
Height: 5' 4"
Wants Kids: No, I hate kids.
Kids at Home: No, only my 2 grown children are allowed into my home.
Ethnicity: Freckled and White
Religion: Lapsed Catholic
Drinks: Several times a day
Smokes: Whenever I can get some good product. My interests:
I typically spend my leisure time: Drinking & smoking.
The last book I read and enjoyed: "What Would Keith Richards Do?" According to my friends:
My friends describe me as:
A bitch
A mean drunk
A joke The three things I can't live without are:
Sex
Drugs
Rock & Roll The first thing people notice about me:
I swear like a sailor.
Cool car. (Doesn't need to be new or fancy, just cool).
Like to listen to rock music really loud.
Reside in or will relocate to slacker paradise, i.e. State of Florida.
Know what the "oxford comma" is.
Top Ten Can't Stands:
Mimes.
Know-it-alls.
Gynecomastics/Fat fucks.
Making friends with the wait staff.
Guys named Dick, Bob, or Jerky.
Pug Nose.
Comb overs, rugs, dyed hair.
Golfers.
Member of the Nascar Nation.
TEA-TOTALLERS NEED NOT APPLY!!!
So there you have it, a peek inside Babs' gentle soul. Tomorrow I will share with you the actual matches that the retard e-Harmony computer/robot is sending me.
Bitch had to go underground for awhile. But I'm back, bitchier than ever, after having returned from a vacation with my sister Jane.
Jane I'm gonna throw that fucking smart phone o' yours in the ocean!! AND WTF? A 25-mile bike ride on a 97-degree day? Jane, next year on your holiday, just check into a concentration camp.
And since when don't you eat leftovers? "I take good food that I've paid for and throw it out?" Don't you remember your starving student days dumpster diving at the University of Mott the Hoople?
Glad I parked my lazy ass at the pool. I think I met my future ex-husband.
"My bed started shaking at 1:08 AM, and then I heard the now familiar sounds in the walls, as the house shook with an aftershock. But it was a very toned-down version of the previous incident -- I wasn't the least bit scared. It was actually kind of cool......" --Emma Eiderdown
Reading the above hearkens back to my 2nd honeymoon with my 1st ex-husband (or was that my 1st honeymoon with my 2nd ex-husband?). No never mind-- Emma, I marvel at your sangfroid.
Babs was scared for Ms. Eiderdown?
The wine?
Just a midday nap?
All of the above?
"We just had a freakin' 5.9 earthquake!!! My entire house was shaking so hard I thought it was going to crack in two! I felt like I was stuck in an unbalanced washing machine -- I thought the entire house was going to blow up. Pictures fell off the walls, books fell off of shelves, items fell all over the pantry, I have NEVER been that scared in my life. Earthquake, hurricane, WTF?????" --Emma
Question is... "what is a favorite pastime of our friends down under?" BTW thanks to my OzN & Kiwi fan(s) for tuning into WBAB on a regular basis. Now that I've got your attention I'll proceed with the topic of today's blog-- THE BUSH, you know (nudge, nudge) the real bush down under?
One could accuse me of a pathetic attempt to get my blog stats soaring like the thermometer over N. America with a discussion so literally touchy and personal as The Bush-- and dad gum it, you'd be right. But I'd like to get my readers "feel" on this "hot" topic.
Recently it was brought to my attention that girls are having a depilatory procedure performed that will permanently deforest their bush. "Egad and Ick" say I. Baby girls, grow up. Fellas, are you serious?
I may have bitten off more than I can chew, but I'd like to know what your "taste" is on this "hairy" topic. Please vote in the non-scientific, anonymous sidebar survey... --xoxo Babs
Above pic found on http://www.swissarmylibrarian.net/ Post entitled "Swear Like a Librarian."
If you don't get it...why are you reading my blog? See * below, you're welcome.
I am going to submit my personal personal favorite "See U Next Tuesday." As in "what a See U Next Tuesday she is." Or another way to use: one of your douchey (ha) colleagues is headed out for a long weekend..."hey (Brenda you bitch sotto voce) See U Next Tuesday" Very empowering in a passive/aggressive sort of way.
*
If you have a perplexing question-- the more f***** up the better, send them to Miss Emmy c/o babsthebeeitch@gmail.com, or post anonymously on the comments below.
Dear Miss Emmy: I had my nails, toes, and eyebrows done at a new salon that piqued my interest due to it's billing as a "wine spa/beauty salon." Cha Ching!! The total for services rendered was $65.00 (beyond reasonable). The manicurist and I got along like a house afire-- she being class of '74, Michigandress in diaspora, the victim of traumatic online dating, etc. and buckets of fun...I was feeling so jolly (drunk), absolutely adored my color selection (mayhaps not quite apropos for a job interview with an employer so obsessed with conservative appearances they don't hire fat people), I left the the new gal a $15.00 booze-enhanced tip, and my e-mail address.
See below (r.).
"Rock Royalty."
My Freudian way of saying
"I don't want your fricking cube job."
Following the interview (during which I randomly gnoshed on my M & M ring in order to maintain my blood sugar as the job sounded like suicide in a pop-top can), I headed up to visit you Emmy. While we were floating around the lake in NC listening to Bob Marley & working on our tans, new gal e-mailed me hoping to introduce me to a tall Jew whose back she waxes. As an aside, she informs me she's moving to a new, salon, that is not a wine spa. She wants to meet me at a cool wine bar to listen Flamenco guitar after work this Friday.
Meanwhile,one of my nails fell off, and the toes are chipping. Here's the deal, her professional services are no longer required due to the aforementioned reasons. I'd like to be her friend (she's a good ole gal), and possibly meet the tall Jew. What's Babs to do? Dear Babs: E-mail this kindred spirit and take her up on her Friday invite. Over drinks you can discuss the tall Jew, and learn some important dating criteria, such as whether he's smart, funny, and how often he has to wax that hairy back, and just how nasty it gets in between waxings. She will certainly notice the egregious missing nail, and will probably offer to fix it free of charge.
If the tall Jew sounds reasonably intriguing, with no glaring red flags such as multiple divorces, residing with his mother, or god forbid, gynecomastia, then perhaps you can agree to meet him for coffee at a convenient Starbucks.
You needn't worry about whether or not you want to continue with her nail services. A friendship with her should not be based on your business, but on the camaraderie you share with her; otherwise, it's as if you're paying to be her friend, which of course, does not pass muster with.. ...Miss Emmy
Stumbled upon the ghetto fab "Hooligans" when searching for a video tutorial on how to play the maracas...more about the maracas later, but I thought this might start your week off with a smile.
A very haunting and handsome movie. Not for everyone. In my estimation, well worth the price of admittance as I feel I've taken a trip back in time and returned unscathed from the Oregon Trail circa 1845 to attest to the eternal bravery, physical courage, goodness, cruelty, and chaos unleashed by man upon man.
Post mortem deconstruction of the movie by the Lassie, Lad, and Babs... a wisp of a butterfly discussion flitting on the iceberg of archetypes, foreshadowing, symbolism, cinematic technique, and respective conclusions gleaned from what is likely to become a masterpiece of film making.
Several items for discussion...
1. Did you notice that only the despised and bombastic Meek had a Southern accent? Year 1845.
2. Verisimilitude. Paucity of songs and music. From my readings of history, I find it hard to believe a beloved and humble harmonica, fiddle, or guitar would not have accompanied these transcontinental pioneers. Andecdotally, I have found that amongst a random conflagration of 8 individuals, at least one possesses a good voice and/or musical talent, which would literally serve to deliver the people out of the desert, if not boost flagging morale? Unless they were so beaten down to be beyond the redemptive/restorative power of music?
3. Why the duplication of effort and caloric expenditure by separate morning and nighttime campfires?
I feel like a good friend has died. Amy Winehouse's music will live on for all time as a testament to her genius. She had the pipes, the emotion, the look, and the artistry. How I wish I had seen her in concert. Friends, go see your favorite musicians live while you have the chance. Genius and madness are closely intertwined
Today I'm opening the Bogart family photo album vault. We Bogarts are soo private (i.e. we have super-secret behaviors we don't want anyone to know about, but that's another blog).
Meet my lil' 'sis Gin (l. so named after my mom's favorite pre-natal vitamin), who btw, ain't so little anymore, but girl, you get props for fighting that baby weight the best way possible...speed, cigarettes, and light beer. Gin you may consider adding Red Bull and/or crack to your fitness regimen. Three words "bye bye arms."... and her new baby, my sweet niece.... Crumpett Clampett (pronounched Clam-pay) .
Being that Gin and her "partner," Tonic, are vegan they are raising Crump naturally...i.e. Cherry Coke and Cherry Benadryl...lots of vitamin C and anti-oxidants!! Here's some home video of cheery Baby Crump enjoying her Cherry Coke. Gin, not one to criticize, but shouldn't that Coke be in a baby bottle rather than your martini jigger? Just sayin'... you might wanna check with Mr. Spock...oops Dr. Spock.
Looking for that unique vacation for the whole family? Grandma included? See the USA in your Chevrolet, and road trip it on down here to the Sunshine state. Disney, the Space Center, and top it off with the icing on the cake... The Casey Anthony Bus Tour...need I say more?
Some of your cube mates may Eurail it across Eastern Europe, or climb Machu Pichu this summer, but you my friend, will have ultimate bragging rights around that water cooler, for the quirkiest summer vacation, hands down.
And it's a lot cooler (temperature-wise) down here in Florida (and bargains to be had off-season) than most of the sizzling, roasting USA.
Enjoy a sunset in July with a zesty dash of macabre...
Forget that "Pure Michigan" shit. "Pure dysfunction" puts the funk in your vacation.
"Six days shall thou labour, and do all thy work: But the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God; in it thou shalt not do any work..." (Exodus 20:10).
I honor the Sabbath almost every day of the week. I apologize for merely cutting and pasting into the blog, but I am seriously being holy today, and wholly serious:
Trust me, I've lived in several centuries, including (but not limited to) the 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th...and hands down this is the best band of the 21st c. Sountrack of my 21st. c.
They've tried to make me stop reading my books, listening to my vinyl records, playing cards, conversing in real life, and now this affront. "They" have drawn a line in the sand, nary I shall cross. I am your staunch supporter and life long friend, little Oxford comma, you who separate the men from the boys, the wheat from the chaff, the riff from the raff.
What say you people of the blogosphere? Are you with me or agin me?
Where are we now? Some are dead. Some are bald, gray, and surely we're not as skinny, and hard as we used to be. Most of us opted out of the "Boss/Capitalist" game that earlier and later generations have come to embrace with both greedy arms. You won't find many of us among the "tea party," but we're still at our own kinda trippy "tea party, " and listening to our music really really loud (sorry kids).
#1 song of 1976. We may not be the "Greatest Generation" like our moms and dads, but this song speaks volumes as to what a cool and chill generation we were/ still are. Happy 4th to you '76 ers out there reading this today... esp. Parker, Mame, Emma, and Claire.
Click on the image below to receive your invitation:
A group of malcontent, radical, militant librarians & educators trying to break addictions to the Interwebs in a summer reading program using the Association of College & Research Libraries Reading List. http://www.goodreads.com/review/list/3348016-acrl?order=a&sort=title. You may not like this list-- it surely aint' no Danielle Steel nor Clive Cussler. Shut up and start reading, it's good for you, professionally and personally.
This is a public group. Anyone can join and invite others to join. rules
1. Complete as many books from this biblio-centric list of recreational & professional books
... before 9/21/11.
2. Write a short review. Please make it good!
3. If you've already read a book on the list, write a review (if you can remember it).
4. A Leaderboard will be updated weekly.
5. "Special prizes" for "Special" readers will be awarded at a pagan ritual held on the Autumnal Equinox in the following 3 categories:
# of reviews written.
# of books read between 6/23 - 9/23/11.
A special Magoo award to the person who reads the greatest #of books on an e-reading device (Kindle or Nook)
As I post this blog, we finally breathe a sigh of relief. No, that infernal Casey Anthony trial isn't over, but the sun has, in real time, set on this-- the longest, but not the hottest frickin' day of the year--The Summer Solstice. Goddamn it, global warming is costing me major coin. To wit: My car battery died due to the heat, likewise my key fob remote battery-- not to mention, my hearing aid, pace maker, and vibrator (Mr. Happy) batteries, respectively.
Today's blog inspiration came to me while indulging in the only daily discipline I practice--reading the stellar St. Pete Times* in print not online(won't you please add me to your blog roll, fellas?). Being a creature of habit (some say retarded, I prefer "special," or Aspberger's Syndrome) I read my paper the same way daily. Some people start with the lottery numbers... I...
Start with the obituaries. Maybe one day I'll see the names Fang Epstein or Priscilla Krass Epstein, there in tiny print. I am delusional-- those two are way too cheap to buy an obituary in the newspaper. Yet, hope springs eternal.
Then onto the "hard news...." the Leo horoscope...roar girls (Cougars and baby Minx alike).
Followed by the Florida weather (easy reading even when hungover--sunny and warm).
Ergo today's blog inspiration:
Canada is cool!! Like these shoes-- sexy but kinda sensible.
1. Summertime Weather. Back page, the forecast for Florida predicted temperatures soaring close to 100 F today. In Canada forecasts looked something like this: (international readers, you will have to use your government-subsidized slide rules to convert to the socialist, oops Celsius, system you insist on using:
Vancouver 70 F. Nice.
Toronto 78 F. Nicer.
Montreal 79 F. Nicest!!
2. Page 3A: The "Hard-Rockin,' Tight-pant wearin' Canadian Mullets of the 80's Tour,"sponsored by Viagra and Cialis will be performing (maybe in rugs, be prepared for the worse gals and you won't be disappointed, ) at the Florida State Fairgrounds this weekend. Quarter page ad!
3. Page 4A "A request for help in growing reefer" or "Canadians are kind folk" "Nova Scotia's Community Services Department is wondering what's next. It was ordered by an appeals board to help a needy couple in the Canadian province improve their marijuana garden. The couple, whose names have not been made public, have permission to grow up to 25 plants for medical purposes, according to a Canadian Broadcast Corp. report. But the couple, who get income assistance from the government, can only afford to grow six plants — and sometimes run low on supplies. So the board ruled recently that the department should pay $2,500 to set up the full marijuana growing operation and $400 a year for supplies. A department spokeswoman said Monday that it is pondering the order." --St. Pete Times, pg. 4A, June 21, 2011
In conclusion, reading the newspaper is good, and Canada does have it's faults-- #1: it's not the U.S. #2: Winter. #3: Metric System (Hello? Canada? This is a collect call from 1974. Will you accept the charges?). Okay, just sayin'. God forbid I had to live anywhere else, (like if I got kicked out of the U.S.) it would probably be Canada as...
They have a great dole.
I "get" hockey and curling (unlike baseball and football).
They have a "Queen," but not really.
Dad gum it, I got the accent down "real good," so much so that I could pass for an actual Canadian.
They don't use that stupid pound Sterling system.
They drive on the right side of the road, for the love of God.
After the hockey riots of last week, Canadians have made Americans feel a little less retarded about themselves on the world stage.
Happy Father's Day, Dad. Yea, my cool old man (gone but certainly not forgotten) served in the Army Air Force during WWII. I just can't see him up there amongst the heavenly hosts today...I see him as he really was--recovering at the Biltmore in Coral Cables, FL...
...drinking rum and Coca Cola, holding court poolside at the Biltmore w/his pals, and some nice gals from the USO.
Happy Father's Day to the best, bravest, funniest, and handsomest Dad, ever...
*May I suggest for your viewing pleasure today "Saving Private Ryan," "Band of Brothers," "The Pacific."
Edmund Spenser'sAmoretti: Sonnet 79 centers on the idea of what true beauty is... Spenser states that true beauty comes from intelligence...outer beauty fades, but inner beauty lasts forever and in the end touches more people.
Okay, don't have the bread to head over to Europe this summer? Just declared bankruptcy, graduated from an Ivy League university, got that pink slip, and/or working at Barnes and Noble?
Readers it took me two years to dig out of the debt quagmire I got myself into after visiting the real London two years ago, and the whole place smacked of Disneyland. I'm rethinking the charm of those mighty expensive European capitals. Fret not, Babs has some suggestions that may give you a bit of an old world flavor, sans the unfortunate exchange rate, and the mark up caused by socialist medicine.
Below please find some Northern Hemisphere options you may want to consider until your ship, if ever, comes in.
Montreal instead of Paris
Quebec City, instead of Provence
Nova Scotia, instead of Scotland
Upper Peninsula of Michigan instead of Scandinavia
Toronto instead of London
Detroit, MI instead of St. Petersburg, Russia
Miami instead of any third word hell hole capital city in South America
Victoria, B.C. instead of London
London, Ontario instead of London, UK
Detroit, MI instead of Beirut or Kabul
To add to the verisimilitude of the experience you may want to sport indigenous costumes, i.e. a pith helmet, jodphurs, and an ascot when taking tea in Toronto. A kilt when touring Nova Scotia. A jaunty beret in Montreal, and guys, be dripping in gold jewelry, and gals, work that cleavage when in Miami.
Mame, since Kip has been such a twirp as of late, may I suggest the following menu selections for your 25th wedding anniversary dinner? A starter of straight up German bean sprouts, followed by a dramatic presentation of Bananas Foster, Cherries Jubilee, and/or Baked Alaska. They key to this scenario is pouring 151 proof Rum straight outta the bottle (no decanting allowed). Mame, you're an expert at that. Oh, Mame, wear that darling asbestos little black dress, with asbestos push up black bra for this dinner. And instead of Fresh Scent Downy, use terpentine, for the final rinse on Kips toughskins for the big night out. I'm sure it will be a flaming success!!! http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/06/13/bananas-foster-explodes-injures-four_n_875820.html
