So, we’re watching WHAT?

27 06 2006

The BBE loves the FX show ‘Rescue Me’, so I have spent the last coupla years chasing down episodes for the boy, then doing my best to make sure the babies are at the other end of the house. This show has some serious juju going down (no pun intended, although trust me– that double entendre fits). It starts with a warning that reads: TV-MA,V,S,L, XWWB (that last would be ‘ex-wife with benefits’– added by the BBE). Actually there are several more acronyms thrown in, but I’m too busy racing around locking doors to listen… sheesh!

As the Von Bondies start pounding out the opening song, BBE asks if I can handle another episode, as I have been known to lose it and scream at the television screen. The crazy thing is that the show if full of seriously chauvinistic guys (all NYC firefighters), but the person that makes me nuts is Denis Leary’s wife, who is sleeping with his brother (??!!!?!) in front of their kids. Okay, the brother is equally low on my scale.

Good Lord, now the dead cousin has shown up again (he died on 9/11). Denis Leary is out of the truck, and chasing down a woman walking a dog named Punkin’, and given what’s happened on the show before I’d better go double-check the doors…




Living With Cats Rule #72

27 06 2006

Feed them before you go to sleep.

neo on my head all night purring loudly eating my hair - fat monroe the pasha male snarking all over my little precious penelope - who wants to be under the covers with me - the one with big dark circles under her eyes - cats are happy though




Vinny Buddy — I hear you!

25 06 2006

Last January I blogged about the extreme difficulty I had cancelling my mom’s AOL account.

Now there’s a recording wandering the ‘net, during which Vincent attempts to cancel HIS account with AOL. My blood pressure spiked while listening to it; this is the same b.s. that Victoria piled on me in January.

AOL doesn’t seem to have much to say for itself. Of course they have nothing to worry about, as the vast majority of their subscribers will NEVER MANAGE TO CANCEL THE FRIGGIN’ SERVICE!!! While googling a moment ago, I hit this consumer affairs site, which has some pretty incredible stories from people trying to cancel accounts. Check out the mother trying to cancel her autistic son’s account — bless her heart. I feel so sorry for these people.

AOL, you suck green donkey dicks. (Whew — I feel better now!).




spam spam spam spam

25 06 2006

Four messages in my Inbox, all in a row, subject lines reading:

Your cash, non-buddhist
Your order, passion fraught
Your future, padlock law
Your health, night soil

Sounds like I have a date with some handcuffs. That I ordered. From a non-buddhist in the night soil.




I want more SOCCER!

24 06 2006

I love field sports: football; soccer; field hockey; lacrosse — anything involving a team and lots of movement. So we’ve had happy tv time in our casa lately, with lotsa soccer — we love watching a good soccer match.

What makes it even better? Eye Candy! And DANG, Mexico and Argentina field some serious Eye Candy. Me likey long hair, and their players wear it well. We’re talkin’ major rock star karma.

So when errands had to be run during the Mexico/Argentina game I was a sad girl, but hopes were raised upon hearing of overtime… so I rushed home, ran up to my studio in great anticipation, turned on ESPN and found — Paintball? Huh? Not just paintball, but the US Paintball Championships. Who knew? I mean really, WHO KNEW? Is this where the Nascar dads go when the race is over?

The teams are the Chicago Evil versus the London Tigers, as it seems you don’t have to actually be from the US to be the US Champions. Apparently there’s special paintball lingo: the guys are rolling around behind ‘tombstones’, big blowup things that look like waffle blocks. The commentators are saying things like “emotional leader of the team”; “workin’ the dollhouse”; and “with true grace” — the last pertaining to a kidney shot with which one dude nailed another.

As to eye candy, there is none in sight. These guys are wrapped up in teflon tip to toe, and look like a bunch of Lego soldiers. Sadness.