Friday, September 28, 2007
There’s not other explanation, no other name for it, (except unreasonably rich & stupid) as I read the list of all the bad choices (that means stupid, utterly remorseless things done) made by Nicole Richie. I dislike her and her little bikini too. Seeing her pregnant belly on a disgustingly small frame is just as gross as seeing her disgustingly small frame.
Go to People.com if you want the exact skinny on her DUI, which included being in the absolute opposite lane while drunk or stoned, or WHATever. I can’t keep track of all the really stupid sh_t she does. Shouldn’t that come with jail time? Yes, and it seems a full 82-minutes covered it!
My main issue with her is that she’s too sarcastic and just too damn mean to live. How anyone got close enough to initially impregnate her and apparently promise to marry her has always boggled my mind, and still seems so questionable. Didn’t anyone tell the little genius that pregnancy is not the cure for anorexia? This pregnancy thing is clearly a ‘paparazzi, leave me alone for a moment’ stunt gone terribly awry.
Maybe if the kid’s lucky, it’ll get passed around each weekend to the other three girl geniuses of our time, to be used in whatever way ‘helps’ their career – Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears. That’ll give Nicole Ritchie three good weeks per month to drink & smoke crack with all her friends, until it’s her week for her nanny to raise the kid.
Or she could sell it on the black market. Lose it at a music festival. Leave it outside and forget to feed it. Let someone ‘take’ it and gladly pay handsomely to be ransomed for it. If it means no responsibility, I’m sure she’ll go for it and so will most of the public. If anyone actually cared about the baby, we would have already cut it out and put in the belly of the lady who just had baby number 12. I’m thinking she must be pretty nurturing, doesn’t need much media attention, and will hardly notice, physically speaking.
Could any part of the lives of these girls, God don’t make me say it, who are all potential mothers if only because they’ve got the junk, ever be about the KID? B. Spears is just proof-a rooney. If it’s all about Me, how can it ever stop being about Me? Is this all some terrible psychology experiment gone awry? When will it be stopped? Because the rest of us giving them the evil eye does not seem to be working AT ALL!
Worst of all, I really am concerned that 6 months into this pregnancy, Nicole decides to sign up for Alcohol Addiction Help. Is this not a sign that somewhere in the past 6 months that maybe alcohol was an issue for her? Or she is clearly preparing for something that should get her into/and out of court and jail again, and completely knows how to work the system, for once, beforehand? Well, one finger applaud for her.
The best punishment I can think of for Nicole Ritchie (and I for one still think she hasn’t gotten a proper one) is for her to be forced to be in jail until her son or daughter rips their way out of what is a fairly documented pretty tiny space, guaranteed no drugs before or during birth (isn’t that what jail is all about? Getting off the drugs? It’s perfect!). Also, she might realize what just happened (cause I hear it kinda hurts) and stop producing human beings cause it’s FUN, or whatever the celebrities who are actually responsible are saying that year. Babies are not a fashion statement, repeat after me..
The next time I have sex, I will check my pocketbook and buy a condom. Or get my bodyguard to do it.
UPDATE!: (2/05/08) By 12/7/07's post, I was saying much nicer things about Ms. Richie.
In fact, I Nearly retract the ire and annoyance that I felt about her during this post, starting with the 12/7/07 post.
You may want to check it and compare.:)
All right kids, you be good and no parties in the house. Mom & Dad are going to see this cool band from their youth, called 'Van Halen!' I know, you're jealous 'cause you never get to go anywhere but just keep it to yourself. Maybe we'll get you a shirt.:)
UPDATE! (2/05/08): That was a great show!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Knowing that nobody cares how I feel, I guess I can just say anything and everything, I can just blurt out the truth. It doesn’t make a difference anyway.
The only way to withstand the acheyness, the tiredness, the almost inability to drag my body to do anything, is to nap. Even if I’m apparently too wired to sleep, I must lay down, and a lot.
I am just writhing inside with several certain somethings though. If this was a whole post to itself, which it might as well be, I would call it: ‘Psycho Pseudo-Christian Mommie Bitches and the One I Unfortunately Met One Up With Closely Recently.’ Yeah, I know I’ve b_tched about something similar in the past, but wouldn’t you know it, I’ve got another go_dam_ example for you.
I met this Mommie in the mental hospital. Yes, she was there for only one day. For me it was just as ridiculous that I was there, because I was on the crying/sad side of the illness, just a touch suicidal, and just needed my mood stabilizers tweaked, no big deal.
Although this person was there for anxiety, (is that even an ‘illness?’) literally for a one-night stay, she still managed to b_tch and moan about the hospital we were in. Clearly having no clue, (have I mentioned I’ve spent 6 months in a state institution?) she didn’t like that there was nothing on the walls and insisted on speaking to Nurse Wratchet about painting murals. She said the meeting went well. A real clueless f_ck. I know I would have saved a pointless meeting with the Warden for food, or their amazing ability to have found non-food to serve, BUT that's just me. She couldn't understand why the place wasn't 'restful' with nary even a comfortable place to sit. My God, was Martha Stewart this stupid when they threw her in the hole?
So I don’t know if it was because she thinks she’s Christian or because I was far less scary than the rest of the patrons, but she talked to me. And as a total first, because I never met anyone inside a mental hospital that ever even spoke to me outside of it, we did have a few lunches in the ‘Real World.’ And yes, I met her adorable kid.
Somehow all those lunches stopped happening. I’ve been there with other people who were ‘friends’ much longer. I assumed she had too much on her plate, and who needs friends? I know I throw them away and then pray in my church of choice for whatever hypocritical Psycho Pseudo-Christian Mommie Bi_ches pray about. I’m really starting to hate you bitches.
Two weeks ago I called her to ask about a business proposition which she quickly shot down.
Worst of all, I was so starved to talk to someone that I just vomited out the details of my life, and just kept on talking. I realized I had called her at work and suddenly was afraid she might get in trouble and she agreed that thought had occurred to her. So she says to me, “I’ll call you when I put my son down for bed,” and I agreed. Then again, “I’ll call you when I put my son down for bed.”
Here we are two weeks later and the bitch never called. If she did, she did not leave a message – which in my world is the same damn thing.
So I’m slow, and God bless me, I am naïve. The first night, actually it took me two nights to come up with the idea that perhaps she was not sincere in her statements. That this was a way to mock me, with my no job and not too worried about it, no brat(s) to deal with constantly, E.T.C., existence. Wow! That did hurt.
Then, a weekend passed, plus several days, and at that point I think I had it pinpointed. I did not ask about her son. She listened to ALL that blah-blah about me, my pets, plans, my dead Dad, but apparently there’s a button with Psycho Pseudo-Christian Mommy Bitch and I did not poke it correctly.
I remind myself where I found her. I remind myself how incredibly pathetic and sad this proves this person to be. Before I got to this point, I considered suicide, because after all, she must be right. I am so useless that she couldn’t even call back, couldn’t even send a goddamn email.
So you know where that always takes me. Since I’m not dead, since my sadness did not kill me, I’m just mad.
I consider myself the better person for not calling her back, not emailing (that would be difficult since all the that information got annihilated. It’s the first thing that happens when someone gets cut off from Tart’s life.) and not asking her how it is that Jesus Still Considers Her a Sunbeam, when in fact she’s just a mean, clueless c_nt.
Use your kid as a reason not to be friends with someone. Worse, be mean and lie to a perfectly sweet clueless person as myself with such clever acting ability that I think she just won an Oscar.
And no this post’s not for her. I don’t think she even knows I have a blog and I’m sure she’s too busy to use a search engine for fun. And if she did, I say quite joyfully, and found it, she deserves to know without me ever bothering to tell her.
Let this be a lesson to all you screwball women who hide behind your religious denomination and crap on the rest of us. If the last shit you gave that anybody cared about was the one you produced right before the birth of your precious damn kid, well then I can see why so many of you keep on producing them and being so sure it's the most important thing ever and annoying the rest of us, just in general. Um, why not get a blog, or a life? Or consider that if you are incapable of being friends with the childless, that you be the one this time to consider suicide.
But when you’re sitting scared in a damn mental hospital, even with what you think is a pseudo-real illness, please don’t speak to me, because I’d rather f_ck you up at that point, rather than do it two years later on my blog.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
I watched President ‘blah blah ma mood’ talk at Columbia. I saw enough and listened long enough to him not only quote the Quran, but to quote it in such a way that clearly showed him to be that ‘special guy predicted to quote scripture.’ Unh, hunh, I turned him off.
Honestly, its hard enough to understand the Bible and this guy comes here quoting something clearly for his own country. Would Bush EVER quote the Bible in a speech anywhere? Did he quote it, with conviction & vigor, when we really needed it, after 9/11? So who IS this idiot, who hates Jews and refuses to acknowledge that his country even HAS homosexuals. I’m sure they don’t NOW!
Later I got to read what msnbc online had to say. I didn’t see the President of Columbia University give the misguided Islamic revolutionist the what fer on such topics of ‘Please explain how it is the Holocaust did not occur' - President ‘ma mood’s’ answer: ‘Okay, it occurred but what has that got to do with the Palestinians?’ a - hello- scary answer.
And if we needed to hear from someone who hates Bush while hailing from another country, and since that could have pretty much been ANY other country, why allow one in that’s probably trying to spy on our shit while ‘ma mood’ gets a moment.
Furthermore watching this asshole is like watching an early Hitler, who thinks he’s fooling everyone. And in case you don’t think those ‘Left-Behind’ guys and the the Book of Isaiah in the Good Ol’ Bible don’t it have correctly – When Iran bombs Israel, that is called World War III, because whether you like it or not, the U.S. has ties with Israel and so nuclear hell begins. You can’t tell me that SOMEone in the White House doesn’t read, (perhaps Laura?).
Look, I’m not the only one thinking these things. Our/Your representatives put it so well, that I will actually quote them:
On Capitol Hill, conservatives said Columbia should not have invited Ahmadinejad to speak. Senate Republican Leader Mitch McConnell, R-Ky., said “there is a world of difference between not preventing Ahmadinejad from speaking and handing a megalomaniac a megaphone and a stage to use it.”
Newsflash: What is megalomania? Merriam Webster online defines it as:
1 : a mania for great or grandiose performance
2 : a delusional mental disorder that is marked by feelings of personal omnipotence and grandeur
You know, what Senate Republican Leader Mitch McConnell, of Kentucky, said makes no sense whatsoever: either you don’t prevent him from speaking or you hand him a megaphone and a stage.
Didn’t they do both? They handed him a stage AND a megaphone. He and his country are so full of something, worse than a Cheshire cat, worse than a kid who used a marker on your couch and doesn’t want you to see the couch, or the marker behind his back.
I don’t care about the blah-blah coming out of his mouth. I’m concerned he said some code word to Al Quaida. I know Iran recently said they were closing up their southern border with the the north of Iraq, to make the US happy. What shocking thing will they do? What ‘King Ferdinand’ will they assassinate? Who will they invade?
It’s not paranoia, I told you I don’t get that. It’s good common sense.
Bomb them back to the days of Muhammad. Do them a favor. Instead of 'Nasty Little Government Speaks at American University' make it 'Nasty Little Government Meets Stone Age: And Likes it.'
No, I'm not kidding. And I look forward to my Iranian hits. THEY have to stay on long enough to translate it. :)
Why am I the only sane, large, glowing, (mega-glow-ing) manic on the planet?
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Tina Fey, former 6-year writer for SNL, the only female head writer for the show ever, has been a fascination of mine ever since I heard about her job description and that she owned it.
She is a WOMAN, writing for the biggest comedy show that practically every American, age 12 to Dead is aware of, whether they can’t wait to be old enough to be allowed to watch it, or is aware of but can’t stay up past 8 p.m. (it’s a natural bodily function thing, already happening to my dear mother who is approaching 70. Not next year, but it’s out there, waiting).
So she left SNL, which forever made her writing royalty as it is, to write and star in ‘30 Rock.’ Two years ago she had a baby.
Further, she seems so damn human, except that I’m sure she’s probably pushing herself to do REALLY well on ’30 Rock’ and it must be working, because the immediate competition just got annihilated and her show got Emmys to boot.
Unfortunately, Ms. Fey, I have no nuggets from your show, just accolades for you.
PS. All - Oh, and Ms. Fey was the ‘helpful teacher’ in Mean Girls, looking like herself, complete with the unusual glasses. She wrote the screenplay, too. Just so some people can have a reference. But if that weren't enough, I do have photos, stolen from the web:
Ms. Fey sans glasses. I don't know why she won't wear them on the red carpet!
Artist's rendition/real photo (you be the judge) of Tina's life at the moment. Both photos from www.tinafey.net, not affiliated with the artist. Just another crackpot like me, only her blog is all Tina. Good day, all.:)
The famous mime
Who passed away
On Saturday, just yesterday
Marcel Marceau, in 2000
Mr. Marceau was quite the fascinating creature. He changed his given name to Marceau from Mangel – he was a French Jew, only a young man living in France when the Nazis marched in. His father was taken and murdered in Auschwitz.
Marcel worked in the Resistance, specifically altering children’s ID cards to convince the Nazis they were too young to be deported.
Later in life,
“…he also thought of all the others killed: "Among those kids was maybe an Einstein, a Mozart, somebody who (would have) found a cancer drug," he told reporters in 2000. "That is why we have a great responsibility. Let us love one another.""After the war, he studied at a school of drama and took classes from a mime named Etienne Decroux. (Even the best mime in the world had to take lessons from a master and learn his art!) Marcel Marceau is single-handedly credited with reviving the art of mime and influenced many young performers, especially a certain Michael Jackson, who based his well-known ‘moonwalk’ on Marceau’s sketch ‘Walking Against the Wind.’
Mr. Marceau worked into his eighties, never losing his dexterity, flexibility or control of his art! He was 84, when he passed away on Sept. 22, 2007.
Known for being ditzy
Never really glitzy
In truth, she was very smart
And knew just how to get her part
Alice Ghostley, in 1957
The name Alice Ghostley, who passed on Sept. 21, 2007, did not ring a bell, not even when I saw her picture from the the 1950’s. It’s Bernice – from Designing Women! Samantha’s very gone Aunt and incapable witch from Bewitched! Yeah, now we remember. She was like a member of the family. I’m sorry she’s gone because she would have been perfect in my movie to come out someday, playing my mother! No kidding.:)
One of the most interesting things I found about Ms. Ghostley is that she did something that I have found myself doing. It’s one of those things that usually turns out very well, when you apply yourself. She had a job working in a theater and decided that’s what she wanted to do. She realized she was not like the usual actresses, she was not blonde or beautiful – a starlet, or what they call an ingénue – so that was not the way in. It turned out she had a beautiful singing voice and producers said that combined with her plainness (something she was very aware of) made her utterly charming. And so a career was born. You rock, Ms. Ghostley, you gave plain girls everywhere hope & a good name.:)
Friday, September 21, 2007
I do not care what he wears. They always tear him up for his clothes. I’m seriously thinking that someday they’ll say that’s genius, too.
Oh yummy, yummy.
www.johnnydeppreads.com -Johnny Depp Reads- I found it difficult to find ANYthing on this site but maybe that’s because they probably make things easier for registered visitors. Hmmm, thinkin’ about doing that. It was fun to see the pictures that they would give up and it seems they have lots of forums and a new blog. It seems like a great place to go for everything Johnny.
Thank you, Mr. Depp, because my fantasy lust thoughts about you just make me even more proud of my heterosexuality, and I will descriptively stop there.
I promise if I met you in real life I would be very respectful. Honestly. My eyeballs would probably just pop out of my head, explode and flame into little charred spots upon the pavement. No big deal.:)
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Kyra Sedgewick in 'The Closer'
I look forward to this show every Monday night.
Whatever new incarnation, Ms. Field has been doing TV & movies for a long time. Always the cutie, even in maturity, she just emanates a peacefulness with herself and a personal glow that I just love.
Wouldn't you know it, one of my favoritive woman TV characters is animated! This is what Belief.net had to say about Lisa Simpson, and I could not say it better:
Lisa Simpson, the eternal eight-year-old girl, has always felt more deeply and thought more intellectually than her peers. Misunderstood by her schoolmates and her own family, Lisa forges her own path.
She becomes a vegetarian, refuses to throw the national spelling bee, and always stands up for her principles, even when everyone around her says she is crazy.
Because I came of age in the 1990s, I got to grow up alongside Lisa. I aspired to be a feminist, like Lisa, even before I knew what a feminist was.
And even though I was never musically inclined, she made me--and millions of other little girls--want to play the saxophone.
I may have moved beyond eight years old, but thankfully, Lisa has stayed the same.
She binges on alcohol & sex the way I would binge on food (and I swear I don't enjoy get to indulge or enjoy mine nearly as much she does hers!). Holly Hunter has brought a brazen humanity to the character of Grace, and poured herself into it with incredible zeal. Belief.net again, put it so well:
You have to admire a woman who manages (barely) to balance her personal demons (drinking, promiscuity) with a strong sense of justice. Grace Hanadarko, brilliantly played by Oscar-winning actress Holly Hunter, is an Oklahoma City police detective who lives her life so on the edge that she is visited by a most atypical, scruffy angel named Earl (Leon Rippy), who hopes to save her from herself. Her lifestyle sure would not work for me, but her commitment to justice and the obvious love she has for her nephews and nieces make her an empowering woman to be reckoned with.
Yeah, Belief.net's got others: American Ferrara, the Heroes cheerleader, women from Grey's Anatomy, etc.: basically shows I never watch so I did not care about 'em. This list is my personal cream of the crop. Enjoy.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Main character: Jessica Alba.
She's got a Pug in the movie, and two in real life: Sid & Nancy!
Main character's role: plays Honey Daniels, a 22-year-old dancer/choreographer of hip/hop music.
Nice Surprise: Honey is chaste, really sweet, and not a s_ut. So refreshing!
Additional 'surprise': Missy Elliot makes an appearance or two. I love her.
Plot: Honey lives in NYC in a part of town where conditions are harsh. It’s a ‘gets wish, gets wish taken away, decides to want a different wish’ story.
There are people selling drugs in the movie, but clearly they are the bad guys, the people not to be like.
You definitely could watch this with your kids. I enjoyed it with my Pug on my lap.
Result: I had never heard of it before, but I'm glad I gave it a chance.
Alba's a sweet character and the Pug & Missy E. made it all worthwhile for me.
It is recommended by Tart.
I cannot be blamed for the fact my fingers do exceptional walking on the keyboard. They don't wanna stop talking. Thank God, for that's my favorite way to express anyway.
Who needs flesh people who will ALways let you down, poo on yer parade, bore you with their stories and tell you to your FACE you are a bore - when you've got internet, a keyboard and come equipped with ability, and you can always unplug, change email, codes or flat out turn the daggone thing off? THIS is a no-brainer, people.
Been busy this morning. Belief.net had a very small article about depression which was good in and of itself, but for once the responders weren't rabid, psycho-mongerers that tend turn this bipolar away with their trash talk. No, in this case they seemed nice, so I gave them some of my best work. (Funny how people with mental illness bring out the best in me, as compared to the 'normies' that crap up MSN. So many undiagnosed, no?)
I love to see someone type the truth: yes, you are a survivor, and I am
very heartened to see a 14 year old write about her depression - and no, you are
not boring anyone.
Depression is one of those things that can seem
so quiet and insidious, but the truth is, for a sufferer it nearly always takes
over their life.
I really like the one the line of this article,
"The person with depression usually can’t see a way forward. They may fervently
believe that nobody can help them, and life is pointless. That doesn’t
mean that they’re right..." I think its really important to stress
that the extreme stinkin' thinkin' that comes with depression - is not correct
thinking! This seems obvious to 'normal' people but I think it's a jolt, a small
wake-up call, for a depressive. Just because the meanest thing (depression) that
has ever happened to you makes you feel like a sack: it is a bold face lie! You
are not such a thing no matter what your mind tells you.
problem with depression is that it can suck you in, and really the person with
depression can't help but be consumed with their issues, and in many cases the
little stuff a person has to do survive seem like insurmountable
I write this with compassion, being a survivor not only of
depression but having soared extreme scary heights, with mania: I have bipolar
disorder and I have run the gamut of nearly every emotion you have heard about,
and all the half sizes in between. Being a survivor does not mean you are
'cured' - it means that, sometimes by miracle, you get up every day and keep on
trying. I know intimately the struggle, it is my life.
The biggest key is not giving up. I know that some people have 'issues' with the thought of medication, but I know that it has and still is saving my life. I do see
doctors. I've got a tiny family, but they understand my fight, and support me
like a pit bull. All of these are how I survived. I put it forth for those
wondering what to do for themselves or a loved one.
The thing is, we have hair commercials that sell the concept of 'I'm worth it' and sometimes I think we have to let that sink deeper to know those three words cover everything you see on the outside of a person and all the stuff inside too, especially the soul. I wish the best for all of us that suffer. Please know that you are worth
it and you are not alone in the struggle.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Monday, September 17, 2007
Husband and I decided that just maybe this time around wouldn't be so bad (uh, that would be Emotionally, on the Tart) since the PDoc did raise some meds and I have become quite close to human on occasion again. [Yes, this IS the best life has to offer.]
Saw the PDoc today, and he said its worth a try. He also raised the amount of thyroid med I take. Yeah, if it wasn't enough for all the other nasty, Lithium is a thyroid destroyer. Do they take you off the mysteriously potent Lithium? Why, honey? when it works. Nope, NEW PILL, the thyroid med, and most docs don't even tell you why. Point: PDoc okayed me getting back on Phentermine. He also weighed me today. He kept the 'Good God' to himself.
I've also become big enough that my back hurts constantly, while standing, walking, oh and yes, even while sitting sometimes, bless it. For those who don't get it, I've said it before: If I'm going to take drugs that contribute greatly to me being the equivalent of a portly pig or a pregnant woman in the third trimester - while not being full of child - then I have no problem taking a drug to help get IT OFF.
Even if said drug makes me talk a mile a minute - ermine - anphetamine- might as well be the same thing. Even if I constantly feel tired WHILE feeling wired. Basically, a limb would have to fall off or I wake up in the 'ol looney bin before I'll stop subjecting myself to this.
Aye, and there is the rub. You might as well realize that it IS being subjected to something, that I WILL be crying even more than usual and nothing comes fo' free.
On my last attempt, I lost 20 pounds in one month. They say smokers ofter have to quit MANy times to achieve a no smoking status. Been there, done that, and can say its entirely true. So I'm back on a fairly evil drug, to 'git er done,' as they say.
For those of you looking to scam off the emotions of a bipolar, the crankiness, the highs, the suicidal dips, the feeling just great-s while wondering if this is what normal is, I do believe you will be in for a treat. For those who care about me, and I know you're there, it's still me. Only, I'm bent on looking better.
It's not just about looking better. It's about heart disease, the pills I already take for high blood pressure, cholesterol and the evil spector of diabetes. Also, as a new and different thing I'm taking phentermine in the evenings. If I can sleep through the night and suffer a little less of the side effects during the day, I may be able to hang on to this crazy nut ride.
Yours in fortitude,
The [one & only & doncha forget it] Tart
Friday, September 14, 2007
He was joking that he and his Dad had made plans for an enormous hiking experience and when Dad went for his first training walk, he required an ambulatory intermission (I think Mark was being silly, and said his Dad collapsed just moments into the walk.) Well, I'm sure I'm a lot younger that The L of T I's Dad, but I'm a whole lot fatter. And so I was inspired to write this. The more I wrote, the more I realized it might be a cute post on my blog:
As far as your Dad goes, tell him he's in good company. I agreed to go to an amusement park this Saturday. It's been planned for a while and we even have out of town guests coming, which means I need to get off this thing and channel some mania and clean my house, like the crazy person that so many believe me to be!
I hate amusement parks. If they would realize that blogging & crocheting are amusements then I would be in heaven. As it is, I've agreed to a Saturday of Hell. Now I realize that this will require walking around, in humidity and heat, with knees that don't really work and a cardiopulmonary system which gets about as much work out daily as it takes me to run from bed to computer each day - I will start heaving loudly after step four into this expected day of walking, and that is guaranteed!
All of which is enough to make me want to die just thinking about it. Despite my pleas already to get out of it, I believe I will be dragged there tomorrow. So if I never return, if you hear on CNN about a fat chick stuck forever on a ride, and I won't entertain thoughts of anything worse, you'll know that I've given all: for blog, for inactivity while loving my computer, for you, Dearest Reader.:)
I will be forced to ride on roller coasters (I'm definitely wishing for death now) because once you walk through the gates into these things with a boyfriend or husband the constant pummeling of 'oh, come one, come on, THIS one's not that bad,' becomes an overwhelming drill in your ear and most likely find yourself giving into it.
If not, I will find myself sitting on a bench in the heat and humidity (if I'm lucky) like a person three times my age, in protest or pure unadulterated fear. There are some things that this Tart's NOT getting on, and there are no questions asked. Now, is this a good time for me to pull out my crochet and get some work done?
I would love to post one of the pictures taken at last year's adrenaline entertainment debacle. For security reasons I can't, because to enjoy it you must see the looks on everyone's faces and muting them out to keep our identities would kill the purpose. Husband and I are on the first rollercoaster I'd been on for 18 years. That's enough time to birth a child and get it out the door to experience life, in case I have to remind anyone. That is how long I was able to avoid this since the last debacle.
This rollercoaster that we were on is in fact, the 'baby' rollercoaster, the lowest in scary I guess that this entertainment haven can provide. Well, somebody should have told me. In the picture I am screaming my head off, in what can only be described as: pure terror. Next to me, Husband is laughing, the sick, sadistic...I think he's enjoying the fact that I'm scared! But the cou de grace of this is the guy right behind us who looks like nothing is happening. Literally. He might as well be checking his cuticles, like is anything happening yet?
The truth is, the only part of the amusement park experience that I truly dig is seeing & buying the pictures of us after a roller coaster. Someone brilliant came up with the idea of snapping a pic at just the right moment to capture the look on any possibly terrorized people, and realized that some of us will actually pay for it.
I think I like those pictures, because they are proof I was there, as though there will in fact be brownie points given at some point, for doing things that terrify you. They are also better proof that I had a 'good time,' -- more preferable to the 5 inch bruise I got on my inner arm 18 years ago from holding on to the roller coasters so hard. A woman's got to have SOME security in this world!
The only other thing that was special for me last year was working so hard to win something at one of the booths. It was a lot like when you go to a County Fair, I had to get so many softballs into a bushel basket. And no, it is NOT easy. I think the lady running it felt sorry for me, I will admit, because I REALLY wanted the prize, and I kept trying. So, you know I won it. What was the prize? Okay, are you ready for this (especially Raine)??!! It was a sweet, stuffed plush SEA TURTLE, I kid you not! I'm at a loss for words. This turtle thing is for REAL!
This ad recently appeared in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution:
SINGLE BLACK FEMALE seeks male companionship, ethnicity unimportant. I'm a very good girl who LOVES to play. I love long walks in the woods, riding in your pickup truck, hunting, camping and fishing trips, cozy winter nights lying by the fire. Candlelight dinners will have me eating out of your hand. I'll be at the front door when you get home from work wearing only what nature gave me. Call [phone number] and ask for Daisy. I'll be waiting.
Reportedly, more than 15,000 men found themselves talking to the Atlanta Humane Society.
This story is from the September's edition of Funny Dog Tales an e-newsletter from the website Fun Stuff For Dogs at http://www.funstufffordogs.com/ , a great site for all things Dog. Go to the website to sign up for your e-newsletter. I always enjoy the stories when I get mine and it's not spam and truly lives up to its name.
I got curious about all the others. Most are from the 'Netherlands.' That would probably be because OneStat originated from that country, so no wonder it has tons and tons of blogs with the Netherlands flag. It's a healthy experience, just learning whose flag is whose. There is also a Belgium flag/blog. I may have mentioned before what a kick I get from other countries just 'hitting' on me. I think its very cool.
Well. I found two very special blogs in my journeys on that chart that just blew me away. They are not originally English sites, but both let you choose your language right away (look for the U.S. flag) and you can enjoy them in near English. Their flubs are cute too. I appreciate that they try so hard in some cases to write so correctly.
Check out http://www.codichefay.nl/uk/ or Franse Bulldog Kennel Co Di Che Fay's for utterly adorable pictures of the very cute French Bulldog. Oh, I just giggled with delight, these little sweeties are just the cutest! I have respect for their copyright and I won't steal pictures from them, so I invite you to see for yourself!:)
I had to check out the Maine Coone cat site that caught my eye. http://www.ormedons.com/ Ormedons Maine Coons & Polydactyls - click on the eliptical American flag for English. Polydactyl cats are those born with at least an extra digit, the most famous are the ones walking around Ernest Hemingway's home in Key West. It gives them big, fat, sassy feet!
I still think about my most beloved, and this site made me cry for how beautiful these animals are, and how much I'm reminded of my special One that's waits at the Rainbow Bridge. This site is exquisite for graphics. I recall a photographer that once said he had only taken pictures of three ugly cats in his entire career and he had photographed thousands. I've never seen an ugly cat, almost all possess a witnessable beautiful soul and the one's on this site are no exception. They are utterly beautiful and took my breath away.
I hope you enjoy these!:) I will take a look at others over time and share with you. I will probably go ahead and link both the Bulldog site and the Maine Coon/Polydactyl site here to the links on my blog, as it would be an honor to be associated with them.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
My God, I thought, Heaven must be a huge place when we are sending 10 million children a year there.
The reason for happiness is that if the numbers/percentage were the same since 1960, when they first started counting such things, if things had not drastically improved, 25 million children would have died in 2007.
I am getting my figures from the NYT article I read today. May I say that it is a real eye opener.
The littlest things helped these numbers improve: breast-feeding instead of mixing formula with dirty water, mosquito nets for babies, vaccination drives – and Vitamin A drops, “which drastically reduce the chances that a child will die of measles, diarrhea or malaria.” It amazes me that something so small could do so much good.
The hardest hit areas in the world are Southern Africa, because of AIDS, and the Congo and Sierra Leone because of harsh fighting where so many people are hurting, including children.
The thought came to me, what if five Westerners or do-gooders of any nation went forth and gave everything to help. And then five more go to another place, and so on. That would become a cell structure, like the ‘carcinogenic Al Quaeda’ has been described to us, for Good. Cells for a Better World. I guess they call it Unicef.
And before we get overwhelmed and sad with all of this information and every other upsetting thing they give us on the news, may we contemplate that already Many must have gone forth to create these better numbers in child mortality, to have cut it in over half already. That is so heartening to the Tart.
The best quote is at the end of the article:
"Success, Ms. Veneman said, “is not just linked to money, it’s
linked to setting priorities.”
My eyes were opened today, and I wanted to share. Sometimes you don’t know about things, until given a little information. :)
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
At first, it was cute. The little swimmers were almost fascinating as they came after my bait on my last fishing experience. (Note that I’ve been too traumatized since to venture again into another fishing outing! That, too, is part of their 'secret plan.')
Then it was a joke. I discovered that a web site dedicated entirely to turtles was a top ten, in terms of raking in readers! As crushing as it was for Jungletart’s soul, she responded by finding pics of the wiley creatures and posting them on her sideboard, complete with witty self-authored quotes. I’m always one to invite more readership. This occurred only a couple of nights ago!
But now it appears they mean business. They are fighting back, and soon I expect a full frontal invasion.
As it is, they sent a scout out just this morning into my backyard to scare the pooty out of my sweet Emma-dog, Emma-dog. I let her out (to the fenced backyard) to do her thing, only to hear her losing her Pug-gie mind, barking her head off and hair standing so tall on the back of her neck that she looked like a miniature hyena, only without the spots or built-in ugly.
Here she is shown below, in one of her quieter moments, always the Security Personnel:
The shots below were captured in the new amphibiatic war-zone. It’s a new term (I coined it just moments ago) but we need to accept that the turtles are coming, and they will take over the world. That could be anywhere at this point, but look in your backyard first.What was once a silly pipe dream, an unmentionable concept kept carefully from the public by our frightened but intrepid government, actually something so dreadful it really couldn’t have been dreamed of or comprehended before, has now become reality. You may want to avert your eyes or those of your sweet children. It is difficult to take. Heck, he almost got away before I got my camera equipment!
The documentary captured below by our intrepid reporter, ‘Tart (okay, I am news & entertainment reporter extraordinaire, typist, water girl, and Editor in Chief – a true Jaqueline of all journalistic/blogging skills!), shows clearly the enraged beast, shaking with fury, complete with evil red eyes.
An intelligent scout, he wouldn’t talk no matter what we did to him. Clearly, he's hiding something, and we're certain here at the blog, its only a matter of time before he returns to the others, uncovering our weak spots. They may be slow, the invasion may take time, but this is a clear indication: They are Coming. Boy, you’ve got to take these little funny looking guys seriously. I didn’t and now they are showing up in my back yard. No one is safe. Mark my words.
Seriously, its just too funny considering recent the documented turtle of events here on the blog. Too strange I'd say that one showed up in my backyard this morning. Paranoia is not my usual destroyer, but is it coincidence or in fact, do turtles love me and therefore can't stay away? A reaction of overwhelming support for my exhibited 'turtle love?' Are they looking for love in all the wrong places? Or in fact, planning an invasion of epic proportions?? You be the judge.
**Disclaimer: Absolutely no animals were harmed in the making of this blog post, not even for scientific purposes (I don't believe in scientific purposes). The barking sounds in the background of the video were Emma-dog inside the house losing her mind. She was too frightened of the creature even while outside to do any good for us, as a country, I'm saddened to say.
The turtle shook because its capture takes Lithium, but had we been forced to torture the turtle, it would be completely legal and endorsed by Homeland Security. I can't be held liable for what my country would like to do to turtles.
Although they may be coming to me for help, I assure you, I will probably continue to do the right thing, which included throwing the turtle into my neighbors yard, so they can figure out what to do about it and of course, continue the saga of doing the right thing.:) Thank you for your support, and Good Night.**
Monday, September 10, 2007
I'm the type of person who checks their incoming emails far more than I check T.V. listings. Oprah's people email me and tell me what is coming up throughout the week for her television show.
I appreciate that because I actually watched the Season Premiere today. I made a point to watch since Letterman and Oprah have been at odds for years, at least on Dave's show. So cute to see them together. I could relate to what he said about his Dad, although I think I may not ever get a building named after me.
Lisa Marie Presley has impressed me for a long time. Her video premiered (at least in my world) on Oprah today, but I admit to busting out crying when she was shown in person on the show with the Harlem Choir singing. I understand that she is normally loathe for people to see her sing live or should I say 'live' with Elvis. I have noticed. And it is apparent in the video, too. So I was overcome to see her singing for real today on Oprah.
They brought out Elvis's granddaughter, Lisa Marie's daughter, and it is so apparent what a good job not only Priscilla did in raising L.M. right, but what an interesting, real person L.M. herself seems to be, and that her kid(s) turned out great. I know somewhere Elvis is proud, not for all the fan love, but because his baby girl turned out to truly be a fantastic person!
So, none of this was missed because I heeded my Oprah-mail and watched what I really wanted to. This means too that I get to miss all the 'predator-days' and unhappy, stressful stuff that this bipolar doesn't need to be subjected to. That's a good thing, as Martha would say.
Finally, I like the 'daily thought' that she sends. Depending on what the theme of O magazine is into this month, emails with thoughts in that flavor are sent out daily. I've taken to saving the ones I like into a Word file called "for the bottom of my emails."
If one day I become a cheery enough person and figure out how to do it, I'll put little messages at the bottom of my emails. This is proof positive Husband doesn't read my blog, because I know he knows how to do stuff like that in a heartbeat.
A 69-year-old man rips the clothes off a burglar.
How'd it happen?: The homeowner and his wife return home to finds a burglar. The burglar grabs the wife, and the 69-year-old said, "That was it." Everything came off pretty quickly. Note to burglars: Make sure your pants are belted and secure before you mess with a guy's wife.
20 minutes later, a nude 20-year-old was found running through the neighborhood and charged for his criminal activity.
It's just so awesome, and didn't even require a stun gun. :)
I drove around my 'community' today for simple errands. That is enough to crank me out right there. We actually have to have announcements on the radio to remind people to contain their road rage, no matter how warranted. They have laws against that stuff, and you know somewhere there's a cop stopping someone for failure to use a turnsignal, while not realizing that a hot cup of coffee is about to land on someone in an incident that will end up landing someone else in jail. Oh the humanity, the wastefulness, and the uncreativity! Is that the best you can do? Officer Wiggums, calling Officer Wiggums - the coffee was from Dunkin' Donuts! - clearly on your beat!
Anyhow, I found out about this lady who discovered that baby snapping turtles were destroying her garden. One of those wily turtles put their eggs there aaaaand nature took its course.
I think she secretly likes them. Yeah lady, but they grow up. Meanwhile someone's gonna throw some in the local lake, and you can say Goodbye to decent fishing. Please control you local baby turtle population. (Drowning doesn't work.)
Jane Wyman died. Nope, still not one off the Pool of the Dead (darn) but sounded like a classy lady if you read the Yahoo blah-blah about her. Not one to talk about her first husband, Ronald Reagan, even though she got asked. Not until he died and she said nice things about him. We should all have such classy ex-es, hunh.
I'm writing about her because here's the best quote I've heard about a person in Hollywood and movies:
"In the end, she had survived for decades in a town notorious for exploiting talent and then discarding it."
Wow, Tough and Classy. You rule, Jane Wyman. You left a good impression on Earth.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Why ya'll followin' my mommy around?
I got into conversation with her and somehow it came out that she had seen Angelina Jolie on a plane in the 1st class, with Maddox. Wondering what she what she looked like, what she was wearing, I asked her if she was wearing black.
So, the snotty kid (she acted like one, so I'm saying so) looked at me incredulously and said, "Why would she be wearing black?" As though that were one of the most bizarre things she'd ever heard. Like I was just insane, a freak, or as wife of Husband's friend once put it, "You really ARE weird."
So I shut up.
Now, I ask you, have you ever seen Ms. Jolie wear anything that WASN'T black? Not only did she look like Elvira when she picked up her Oscar for 'Girl, Interrupted,' and famously frenched her brother, but to this day, I never see her in anything other than a black top, whether tank, T-shirt, whatever.
She loves black. She wears it ALL the time. I happened to notice.
Which goes to show that I should have been working at an online company, pretending to be a celebrity know-it-all since I don't have to pretend! Call me weird, b_tches, but I think its safe to say that it's a skill to have such overwhelming vaccuous knowledge of a subject. I can't add worth a crap but I do know a lot about celebrities and their vehicle of transport, movies. Oh, and a little about writing.
It would have been great to have set her straight at the time. But it's pretty cool to get to tell the world about it a couple years later. My life is a movie, it just hasn't got a screenplay yet.
I was able to hop a plane to another country (it sounded like I was in Italy here) and I want to thank my 'new' country that they didn't immediately shove me in a police vehicle for possibly torturous questioning like my 'old' country, America, is allowed to do because of our lowered standards for human rights and apathetic embrace of invasive new laws that most likely will contribute to the destruction of 200 years of civility . Well, I only tried to touch Brad Pitt and not someone presidential. It's understandable to want to touch Brad, as we can only assume touching Bush would be a bonafide assasination attempt. So, in the end, it's just all fun & games.:)
Gratzi, Italia! Tu es mi amore neuve!!! Vive La Tart!:) (Thank you, Italy! You are my new love!!! Long live the Tart!;)
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Anyway, I actually accomplished something this weekend, and heck, the weekend's not even over! I read the paper on Wednesday that gets thrown at my house even though we don't subscribe (interestingly, it's printed by the same people I used to work for. I took great pleasure in seeing the turnover rate: new publisher & editor. I don't feel like such a freak for leaving after 2 stressful years AFTER all!)
I noticed that there was a community yard sale going on and I called and got my spot (yes, that was a little bit of $. This was good, because we joked we might not make up our inital investment -hah!). I was rather comatose on Friday and didn't start getting much done til the evening, so I was up til 4 a.m. getting all the stuff sorted and into the car. The thing started at 8 a.m. which I assure you, is vampirically early for moi, but I managed even with 2 hours of sleep. If it's fishing or something I really want to do, I don't need sleep.
We made $47 in profit. More than likely, we would have dropped those things off for free, but REALLY more than likely all those things would have languished in my house for years. So, a lot more was accomplished than 'silly' ol money. :) I started something, I followed through, with a tasty end result. It was a good day. And I got a sunburn and less junk in my house to prove it. ;)
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Other Things boggling This Writer's keen and oh-so-on-it mind: I'm trying to understand one of my many stat counters, and find some listing of the all time most gone to sites. I don't expect Adventures of a JungleTart to be there, however I must admit that I find it utterly unbelievable that a website dedicated to TURTLES is raking in tens of thousands of people flocking to it. It really is enough to put the stake in my heart and twist it until the aortal vein severs. It's got some fancy, ridiculous name but when you click it, it's turtles people. I wrack my brain for the 7 people who show up on this site, and it turns you just need to post pics of the slowest, most boring critter on planet Earth. Burn, on me!
Oh, for all of you sad, so sad inside for Tart because she should run and get Essure as soon as the Labor Day weekend is over, just you stop your special tears of remissment. I have discovered 'Mommas website for completely inane women' and may I say, "Thank you Jesus that I will never have to update other (supposed) women on my pregnant condition, nor never have to figure out what TTC or whatever it is, is about." (Taken To Cursing? I'll stop there.) May I repeat, "Thank you, Jesus." Now I know why I will not be 'blessed with bundles of everlasting problems' or why I won't be leading tomorrow's youth in whatever crappy tomorrow we've already doomed them to, or my heart will never feel the joy of screaming/slapping a squalling kid in either Walmart or the one time my husband is not too tired to take me out to eat ('cause my husband would deal w/ kid, oh yes he would, and would be tired from it too. But, may I remind you WE WON'T BE!)
No, cruel life has relegated me to years of playing Guitar Hero, because I love it, doing Karaoke in the middle of the day - because I can! Sleeping to the wee hours of 3p.m. and later- because nobody cares! Not having a job and refusing to get one until I'm damn good and ready - because I'm not paying for Pampers and college education for some ingrate - NO! I'll work to help pay for credit cards that we're racked up for ME! And those little things in life, like getting to eat out ALL THE TIME, trips to Walmart buying crap we don't REALLY need, and always of course, having high speed internet for my blogging hobby and watching TV once in a while.
Most of all, getting to hold on to what sanity God has still left for me, never having to answer, 'Why?' from anyone else. I do enjoy children. From afar, when my neighbor's kid is finally let outside (I guess the air quality index/number of ions in the atmosphere is okay enough for mom to let her outside for 1.3 minutes) and she waves at me, or little babies that haven't learned to 'work' their parents yet (under 3 months) while passing by in a restaurant (I still think these parents have a lot of gall to subject the rest of us to a potentially squalling baby). I don't have to care. I know that you all are bugging Eli Lilly and all the other R&D places to cure my sh_t, so that I might reproduce and be so happy like you. No, too wrapped up in the 'important work' of making more little you's? Well, until That Day where you care about My Issues, bite me.
And may I say that the lot of you women who use this thing called motherhood to gather together and 'share the joys' of it all - NO! You are gathering together to commiserate all right, gathering to share the misery. Those websites aren't to parcel out the important (and may I say same info over and over?) information (read a book for info, crap up my internet with your bonding) and make sure you get your serving of WIC each day. No, they are to bond you all together.
May I further say, that many of you have been doing stinky, nasty things subserviated yourselves for other people for so long (even Oprah says this is precisely what you do!) that you buy the lie that this is the only way to be, if not merely because you are so dang tired but at least everybody around you is Miserable. But, see the struggling beacon of light, the woman going for life sans (that means w/out) Misery (What! No sleep deprivation! I know you'd hit me with a sauce pan if you hadn't become so weak from it yourself!) and you delicate ladies get vicious. (See what the supposed average housewife had to say about 'Slummy Mummy.' ROWR, girls!)
I hope you are fuming. I hope you are upset. I hope you are leading all of your hard-working dutifully reproducing fembots to this very site and begging my provider to shut me down.
I can't help it. I'm not rubbing it in. I'm SCRUBBING IT IN! All you people do is throw it in my face, you wanna bring it, evil Bitches? Let's bring it.
I'm sure you Christian types can clearly see that all the wonderful things in life that I take practically for granted - and I know many of you are seething with unChristian jealousy just the same, can see that I deserve my 'perverted' (can we say realistic) lifestyle. After all, if I can't, in all responsibleness, join the f'n club and shoot out the offspring like a proper b_tch, then I guess I can and should have all the amenities. Because I'm not in a club. Oh no, as the Great Christ Himself said, if my treasures were of this world, then [the people] would be fighting for me. If there was another, just one, like me they must have a touch of retardation to not have found me yet. HELLO, I'M HERE! Yes, that boat has been missed and I fight the tide of the rest of ya's, alone.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
How to avoid exercise-induced asthma
And that Craig guy has stepped down and apologized.
For what? You American people amaze me. Or should I say the American media who thinks and votes for you. Who did this guy hurt? You (as in either/or of the mentioned above) makes it seem like he is a freakin' threat to you, I, our children, the American eagle, President Bush, or somebody else that represents the core of America. If he indeed put his palm up in a men's stall, asking for sex, why is it your business? The dumb beyotch standing silent next to him (what, is she Jackie Kennedy? Why is that so 'cool' American media?) is the one with the problem. Her husband doesn't know if he's gay, bisexual or trying a new trend one of the Congressional pages told him about.
It doesn't hurt ME!!! I don't care! I've stayed out of it because it doesn't matter and and someone ought to say so. But now, he's quit his job, disgraced every Republican that's ever lived, and you have the audacity to question it NOW with headlines next to his leaving: 'was it a witch hunt?'
Yes, it was a witch hunt. Now, all of you press people turn in your pass, quit your jobs, apologize for flaming the name of good media everywhere. I want my money back for every url I might have clicked on and given you sad assh_les some advertising money. Then I want you to commit harey-carey on television. That last one is just for my amusement.