AHHH... THE DAY OF LOVE

I have to admit... I totally love Valentine's Day. To me, it's a day to celebrate love. Or... at the very least... like. I consider myself pretty lucky given I have had more than my fair share of people who have loved me and more importantly, I have happily loved them in return. And I'm not talking about kinfolk love, either. I am a sucker for romance thus I am referring to the kind of love where you swoon over someone who absolutely makes your heart flutter. The sort of love where you enjoy being with that one person more than anyone else on the planet. Also where you get to enjoy kisses that make you go weak in the knees and yes, probably offers up great sex, too. Basically... someone who just out and out knocks your socks off.

I also adore love stories. Love movies. Love songs. Even love poems. I was but in high school when I first read HOW DO I LOVE THEE? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS. Now THERE is a love poem, if ever I heard one. Thank you Elizabeth Barrett Browning for giving a young school girl a mighty lovely romantic fantasy to enjoy for the rest of her life. In the meantime...

I also love surprises. Happy ones, that is. The kind I got yesterday, actually. First of all, I got to Skype with my kid for about a half hour. That always makes me smile. Then I headed out to a weekly brunch with the girls. Then I did errands before I headed home, only to find my alltime favorites waiting for me at my doorstep. 

One was a single pink rose nestled in baby's breath with a card signed: FROM YOUR SECRET ADMIRER. Naturally I pretty much knew who it was from, but even better... I got a DEElicious gift with yet another sweet message from altogether different admirer that was REALLY fantastic. A beautiful box of chocolate covered strawberries from SHARI'S BERRIES! I love her strawberries!! If you have not ever had them... order them for yourself NOW. Seriously... they are incredible. Oh yeah... they arrived about noon let's say and by midnight last night, I had downed them ALL. What can I say? I love fruit. 

Anyway... so indeed. It turned out to be a wonderful day of romance. Flowers and chocolate. Who could ask for more? Well... wait. Speaking of more.... 

YIPPEE. TODAY I WENT TO SEE 50 SHADES OF GREY!! Granted, I prepared myself for it being a crapola sort of movie, but I DID read the entire trilogy so I HAD to see how all this played out in the movie. Guess what? It was totally excellent crap! Of course my being the idiot that I am, I was SHOCKED to see how soon the story ended. No wonder. The other two books in the trilogy will come out at a LATER date. Duh. I can't believe what I jerk I was to imagine the enTIRE story would be covered in this one film. Doesn't matter though since...


This turned out to be a perfectly fine Valentine's weekend. I hope EVERYone got to enjoy some bit of sweetness from someone they enjoy. Afterall, love is what makes the world go round, right? Oh... in closing, get a load of this, btw. Oh man. This so can't be good. Case in point: check out the lows on Wednesday and Thursday nights. EEKS.

LINDA - B.A. FROM USF

Earlier today I was in the car and as always, I was listening to my alltime favorite: Howard Stern. I love his radio show. I even pay for it and lots of other channels via Sirrius satellite. In particular, I love his interviews. They are by far, the alltime best. Actually, Al Michaels calls Howard the best interviewer in the country, but whatever. Plus... Howard is so on target about many many topics; not the least of which was his take today on mandatory vaccines for children. As in: what the hell is what's with these parents who haven't weighed the lesser of two evils and figured out vaccines saves childrens' lives. Uh... about that polio shot we all had as youngsters? Kinda think that maybe it helped to totally reduce the disease in millions of kids?? Smallpox sound familiar? But whatever. In the meantime...

What I really loved today was when Howard was talking about the Super Bowl players. And how, for whatever reason, when announced and/or questioned by reporters, they not only state their names, but also,  their college ID's. In other words: to which college they went. Sorta like: Linda... University of South Florida. Howard went on and on about this topic until finally, he decided he wanted his staff (and callers) to ALSO do the same. As in: Howard Stern... Boston University. (graduated Summa Cum Laude in Communications, btw) All I can tell you is that the conversation immediately became hilarious. Oh yeah...

Howard also suggested that in addition... what the pro football players should REALLY be asked to do, is recite the multiplication tables up to 12. This had me roaring, needless to say. Or if not that, then maybe just say their name and include: convicted or not convicted. I was totally laughing right smack out loud by now. Talk about the truth often being said in jest, right? He also felt that maybe you could even throw in a number referring to how many times you've been laid. I just totally couldn't help but laugh. Anyway...

Howard eventually decided to have several of his staff members come into the studio; staff who btw, any fan such as myself would know in a flash. They were to announce themselves stating their names and the college they attended. Things got to be really hilarious by now... especially because those people stated their name and the college they went to, alright. But... SEVeral sorta, kinda forgot to ALso mention that they never actually GRADuated from the school! Total cheating, if you ask me. And btw, this is exactly what kills me on Facebook, let's say. Attending college and graduating from college are way two different things altogether.

Particularly in football, which often could be soooo misleading. Case in point: Ok, so the player graduated college. BUT graduating with a 1.8 GPA is not at ALL what I'd call walking away with a fantastic, comprehensive sort of education, let alone never graduating in the first place. I mean... seriously. A+ in sports is one thing. D+ in Basic Studies is bullshit. Just saying. Besides, don't even get me started on the grasp of the English language and/or grammar of football players. 

More importantly... sorry Charlie. It doesn't really count if you merely atTENDed school. I mean... the whole point is to get finished with school. As in: a diploma. Hell... I'll be happy to attend one class at Harvard and boom. Where'd you go to school, Linda? Harvard University. REALLY? YOU WENT TO HARVARD? WHY... YES. YES, I DID. OH... GRADUATE? UH... WELL, UH... ACTUALLY, NO. Which of course is what I should have anted up in the first place. Otherwise... completely misleading, right? Seriously... this is what I call: withholding information. MAJOR information.

Which is why the show today was so damn amusing. You should have HEARD what the staff was saying about their education. Or in some cases, not saying. I loved when some had to backtrack but plenty in their educational claims. OH. I SEE WHAT YOU MEAN NOW. IN THAT CASE, THEN I ONLY HAVE A CERTIFICATE OF COMPLETION FROM THE LOCAL TECHNICAL SCHOOL.   


All I can tell you is that like everyday, I had a simply delightful ride home listening to all this crapola. Which reminds me... today was a major day of energy and accomplishment. For some unbelievable reason, all of sudden I woke up with the energy of a 35 year old! Which is good since amongst other things, I had 4 different returns to do at 4 different stores and YIPPEE YIPPEE. Got them all done in about an hour and a half. I totally deserve a prize which maybe in the end I did get, since I probably made a quick $250. I may hate doing errands, but man do I ever love making money while doing so.   

WHAT? ME SUNBATHE?

I've read MAD Magazine for years and years. Not recently mind you, but I do remember reading many of the issues that my brother had back in the 50s and 60s. They were pretty hilarious, I must say. I never had a favorite column or anything, given my magazine of choice back then was probably more along the lines of Seventeen, Glamour or Cosmo. But MAD was an excellent way to veg out and giggle plenty. Then... for years and years, I never again picked up the mag.

Until that is, when my kid was a pre-teen, when he too began getting into MAD. Thus in late 80s and most of the 90s he began creating his own collection... which I still have somewhere in the garage, I think. The covers of these magazine were often so damn clever and funny that you just had to check out the entire issue to see what else was going on between all the pages. Oh man... the satires were incredible. And pretty edgy to say the least. What must be going on now, with all the terrorist activities, I shudder to think.

However... the covers totally win above all else, if you ask me. No wonder. Just take a look at the pict up above. I mean seriously. Is that not funny or what?? Who else but Alfred would sit on the beach beneath a thunder cloud with his electric guitar hooked up to a kite?? With the electrical cord wrapped around his toe, no less. Talk about just waiting for a disaster to happen. I saw this shot and simply laughed right out loud. Or... check out this cover:

Brilliant, right?? Like who even thinks of this?? Well paid writers, I guess but still. To have such a comical mind blows me away. I especially love the Soup Nazi down in the right hand corner since I actually TOOK my kid to the Soup Nazi when in Manhattan for his 15th birthday. And btw... let me just tell you... THE BEST SOUP I EVER TASTED! Plus... the way the episode was portrayed on Seinfeld was exACTly the way the whole process operated. See? You have a daughter, you have to get into Esmeralda and Cinderella. You have a son, you have to get into MAD, Game Boys and rockets.

All I know is that when you have some down time and want to laugh right out loud, Google Mad Magazine covers. It'll be a major hoot. Or maybe it's just me. Besides... I have a very keen sense of humor and therefore adore laughing. Maybe that's because when I was growing up, I always remember lots of music being played in the house and lots of humor being shared, too. Both on LP albums, I might add. Plus... my parents loved sharing great jokes so basically... there were lots of chuckles going on.

When I had a family of my own, we also heard lots of music. And roared at major sitcoms of the day. MTV was big back in the day, so that made it totally easy to hear music all the time. Sitcoms had become pretty sophisticated too, all the way from ALL IN THE FAMILY to THE SIMPSONS to SEINFELD and everything in between. And... everything in between included MAD Magazine. Oh yeah... and our local shock jock, plus Howard Stern. Whom to this day my son and I listen to each and every day. Howard by the way, is THE interviewer of all times. His really tasteless humor from the days of terrestrial radio is long gone and in it's place, on satellite radio, are some the best interviews I've ever heard. With major players in all arenas of pop culture. Anyway...


If you want keep abreast of some really creative laughs, check out MAD. If nothing else, check out it's covers. If you can't find some great fodder for a big belly laugh then all I can say is: uh... you're just not trying. What? Me Lie??     

FASHION SHOWS

Grabbing a front row seat at a fashion show is a really big deal. And you basically don't really get to grab it yourself. Totally no savsies going on here. Instead, you are pretty much told where you'll sitting thus you have so got to be hot shit to be seated up front. REALLY hot shit. Actually... celebrities are often seated in the middle front so that photographers can get some really great money shots. Like maybe three for the price of one if you catch my drift.

Anna Wintour btw, definitely gets the front row, but she often likes sitting near the end of the row just so she can check out the exit of each model. But trust me... Anna gets to be whereEVER she wants given she is a major player in fashion. Thanks to Vogue. The entire concept of fashion show seating is a pretty interesting topic, actually. Although were I ever invited to Fashion Week in New York or Paris... boom. Give me the last row if you want. Just give me a seat!

And... the shows themselves can be major productions. High priced models, often spectacular music, up to the minute designs, etc. etc. My favorite part btw, is the end of the shows when all the models prance one last time along the runway followed by the designer himself. Totally exciting.

In the meantime... ever hear of men's clothing designer, Rick Owens?? That's him in the pict up above. Oh man... now THERE is a show at which I wished I had been sitting. Not at all for Rick's fashions, mind you, but more for the ability to have been there when his latest male models brought well deserved gasps to the audience. You can't even beLIEVE what they got to see recently. Think: shocking. 

Case in point: here is a picture of one of his models coming down the catwalk wearing what I can only assume is a sportswear fashion item for men. 

Okay. So lots of these sort of looks were modeled. THEN... came time for the newest item: enter The Cloak. Wanna see what THAT looked like?? Sitting down?? Warning: if prudish, please don't continue.

Can you BELIEVE what you're seeing here?? Holy ba holy. YEP. IT'S THE PENIS CLOAK THAT YOU'RE SEEING HERE, MY FRIEND.  Maybe the one and only you'll ever see. Unless of course you're at the Playboy Mansion or in your bedroom or at a gay bar or just plain out of your mind. Can you imagine how I laughed right out loud with shock when I saw this today?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? All of a sudden Victoria's Secret's annual televised lingerie modeling event becomes G rated compared to THIS.

DISCLAIMER TO BLOGGER, BTW: Please don't yell at me for posting this shot. I sincerely believe I am not going against your Content Policy. I just like being able to keep my readers... ahem... abreast of my take on 1.) what's in the news and 2.) what adult fashion is today.  

I know. I know. My past few posts seem to have a theme going on here, but believe me. IT'S NOT ME. It's the news of the day!  Which only means are we ever obsessed with male nudity! Which is not an altogether bad thing, btw. Case in point: 

I'm way in favor of male frontal nudity in films. I'm done with the naked bodies... breasts in particular... of stunning actresses that you can almost count on viewing in almost any movie ever made lately. Who needs more breast shots, anyway? I've seen a zillion in real life. Truly... they're not really a big deal. But male nudity?? Whoa. We haven't even begun to scratch the surface, if you ask me. No pun intended.

Which must be why I get such a kick out seeing things like this. I just can't stop chuckling. Who the hell is actually going to be WEARING these cloaks, anyway? Geez... make these out of plastic and bingo. You've protection from the rain in a flash. Well... wait. Not comPLETE protection. But surely easy access for urinal needs. IT'S JUST CRAZY, I tell you. Just crazy.  


On the other hand... any sort of crazy that makes me laugh right smack out loud? Boom. I'm in sheer delight. All I can say is congratulations to Rick Owens. He has made, by far, the biggest splash on the runway that I've EVER heard or seen. As for his sales... God only knows. Need another look at his fashions, btw? Here. Check this out, too. Oh man. 

Literally. 

Oh yeah. Once again, WARNING. Do not view if you are in any way prudish. Also once again...

DISCLAIMER TO BLOGGER, BTW: Please don't yell at me for posting these shots. I sincerely believe I am not going against your Content Policy. I just like being able to keep my readers... ahem... abreast of my take on 1.) what's in the news and 2.) what adult fashion is today.

    
    

AN HEIRESS

I think about my parents every day of my life. I wave and say hello to them every time I pass by the cemetery in which they are buried. I totally wished they were still alive to see me now, although that would make them 94 years old and I don't care WHAT anyone says... 94 year olds are no picnic. For them or for their caretakers. I mean seriously... 94 gives a whole new meaning to: home bound. Maybe even room bound. Plus... 10 to 1 most don't really have their mental faculties anymore let alone the ability to care for themselves. Just my opinion, but whatever.

When my parents passed away it goes without saying that I was very very sad. Like I said... I'd kill for them to see me now. Anyway... my parents lived a basically charmed life. Yes, there were ups and downs for them but through it all, they were able to pretty much enjoy very good health, a very loving family and a large amount of creature comforts. Which to tell you the truth... meant that indeed... when they passed away, I was able to inherit some of those comforts for myself. Hence the reason a friend of mine once called me AN HEIRESS. Which totally makes me laugh. Remembering of course the ole saying: the truth is often said in jest.

However... the REAL HARD CORE HEIRESS' were those at the turn of the century let's say, when HUGE amounts of money were made by the Vanderbilts, the Astors, the Rockefellers, etc. etc. Now THOSE were family members who understood inheritances, alright. And, pretty much tax free if I remember correctly. Anyway...

I had seen a commercial for a TV series called THE MILLION DOLLAR AMERICAN PRINCESSES. Lickety split I knew exactly what this show was about. It was referring to what Edith Wharton wrote about in her book THE BUCCANEERS. They were the American young women of millionaires who basically paid for English husbands, and their titles, with very large sums of their father's monies. Kinda like cash for castles and/or estates. Exactly like Downtown Abbey where Lady Cora basically paid for her British home and hubby. A Match.com in the 1900's let's say. Anyway...

The prospect of this series sent my heart all aflutter. I couldn't WAIT to view these shows. TOTALLY up my alley. One glitch, however. One MAJOR glitch. I needed to have the Smithsonian Channel on my Direct TV programming package. 

Which uh... I didn't. Talk about a dagger in my heart. In order to withdraw it, I immediately called Direct TV and inquired how I could GET the channel. Some very nice guy named Steve helped me out. He helped me out so much in fact, that get THIS:

After checking a bunch of things, next thing I know Steve comes back on the line and basically tells me... UH. TELL YOU WHAT, LINDA. I'M GIVING YOU THE SMITHSONIAN CHANNEL PLUS 7 OTHER CHANNELS FOR FREE. FOR THE ENTIRE NEXT YEAR, TOO!!! What??? Are you kidding me? Really?? I heard this and right off the bat I say: TIME OUT. LET ME BE CLEAR. YOU'RE GIVING ME 8 CHANNELS FOR FREE FOR A YEAR?? Yes ma'am. I am.

HALLEFUCKINGLUJAH!! I was totally in my glory!! Steve has no clue how close he was to being offered special favors in the name of gratitude! I couldn't believe it. How could I have BEEN so lucky as to have had this good fortune?? Talk about inheriting, alright! And... if you think I was in my glory THEN... well then you should have seen me when actually watching the first show of the series. OMG. I SO thought I had died and gone to heaven. Everything I'd ever read on this topic was right smack there, before my very eyes. Thank you Smithsonian for giving me hours of sheer delight!

My favorite episode thus far has been the one about Consuelo Vanderbilt, daughter of the infamous Alva Vanderbilt. Alva knew from the day Consuelo was born that she was going to marry off her only daughter to major high society and thus groomed her accordingly. Then bingo. Consuelo turns 16 and they head on over to London to find a titled bachelor who wanted bucks. BIG bucks. Plus... Alva  would consider no gentleman below that of a Duke. HER daughter had to become a duchess, and nothing less. And guess what. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. 

Of course Consuelo and her Duke hated each other from the get go, but believe me. That mattered not one friggin' iota to Mother Alva. Don't ask. Seriously... reading about this branch of the Vanderbilt family is way interesting. At some point btw, mother and daughter do indeed become reconciled, all in the name of helping women in America and England claim the right to vote. 


As for me... alas, no. I never married a Duke. Damnit. I never lived in a castle nor on an Estate. But... thanks to my parents, I did enjoy some kind of inheritance and for that... I am as grateful as any mother of a married Duchess. Well, almost.  

NEED I SAY MORE??

Uh... given yesterday's post, I felt this might be an appropriate follow up. Or not. In the meantime... designer John Ford sure has alot of tongues wagging (no pun intended) over his latest piece of jewelry. As in: the necklace you see here. So you tell me. A cross or a penis? 

Which makes me wonder. Could this become the newest must have for Catholic priests? I don't mean to be sacrilegious or anything but seriously... given the news of the past few years, the priests DO seem to have a problem in this area. Just saying.

In the meantime, I totally would love to know who's buying this and for whom.

PLAY TIME

Oh man. Is this ever up my alley. Granted... my crazy alley. I just can't beLIEVE what's doing with this toy. As in: PLAY DOH. The kind of Play Doh we have all played with at one time or another. However... way back when, you can be SURE it wasn't the kind that's on the market today.

Today you're going to have to be way careful when playing with your kids. God only knows which way it might go. The kit I'm talking about is the one Hasbro brought out for Christmas last November. The phallic Hasbro toy, if you must know. So unsettling true, yet in my mind, oh so hilarious.

Apparently many a kid got the Play Doh Sweet Shoppe Cake Mountain kit this recent holiday season. What wasn't so good is that kit came with a tool... called the extruder... that is used to push out the Play Doh which helps to decorate the cake. Oh it pushes it out, alright. Right smack from an item that pretty much looks exactly like a penis. A kid sized dildo, if you will. Here... take a gander and see what YOU think:

I'M RIGHT, RIGHT?? I can not TELL you how much this makes me laugh. I can't even beGIN to imagine the parents who sat down Xmas morning ready to play with their child and lo and behold tried to RESTRAIN THEMSELVES FROM LAUGHING THEMSELVES RIGHT SMACK INTO OBLIVION.

Of course... most parents didn't laugh at all. Instead they gasped in horror. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I HAVE TO HELP MY CHILD PLAY WITH A PENIS?? Talk about a great segue into SEX ED, if you ask me. Were it me playing with a child using this tool I'd be on the FLOOR laughing my sweet little ass off, but plenty!

Which makes me wonder. When the designers of the toy brought this kit into the big Executive Board of Head Honchos for the demonstration meeting, did NO ONE say: Uh... about the dildo, there. You think that's going to fly?? You think we may get calls on that?? We need to rename Play Doh to Porn Doh?? 

Oh man. What were they THINKING?? Totally a meeting I wished I had attended. Way too many dick heads in THAT little gathering, if you ask me. No pun intended, btw.  

Of COURSE Hasbro would be getting calls from parents. FLIPPED FREAKIN' OUT PARENTS, TOO. I mean seriously. You just don't throw a toy penis into the mix and not expect SOME sort of backlash. Believe me. This sort of deal is absolutely what I needed to help bring me out of the sadness of the French terrorist troubles of late. Which is another story altogether. In the meantime however...

Thank you Hasbro for making a toy close to my heart. Cake designing. Thank you more though, for making a toy that had me on the floor LMAO. As for hiring, btw... please put ME on your design team and/or Exe. Brd. so that I can help you steer clear of inventory woes when all the toys are returned due to unwanted pornographic tools. I can SO cut your losses in half by merely spotting sex toy problems in a flash. Speaking of which...

Get a load of another ingenious way to enjoy Play Doh. Oh man. This artistically inspired guy did. Gross, yes. Hilarious, nonetheless.  hahahhahahhha

DON'T CALL MY HOUSE ...

Because basically I won't be able to answer. Geez. Talk about a pain in the ass. The craziest thing happened while I was on the phone today. Blah. Blah. Blah. I'm on the phone. I'm talking away. Boom. Out of nowhere the line goes dead. Which translates into: shoot me now, please.

Next thing I know, all of a sudden, the cordless phone to my main base... to which, btw, there are 4 more remote locations throughout the house... displays a sweet little message telling me to: CHECK PHONE LINES. Turns out ALL the phones give me that message. In the meantime... Okay. I'll bite. I check the phone line to the main base, being sure everything's connected correctly and sure enough. It is.

Which btw, it HAS to be, given a mere moment earlier, I was busy chit chatting on the phone. Thus, unless some mysterious ghost is in my home or in my cordless system, I can't figure out what the hell is going on. Unless of course, North Korea is pissed at me for downloading THE INTERVIEW last night from Direct TV. Ooops. Sorry Mr. Supreme Leader. I couldn't help it. It was only $5.99 but whatever.

Anyway... forget about him. Back to Mrs. Supreme Leader... ME. What really got me confused is that while the phone system is not working... the modem, connected to my phone line IS! How that can be, I just don't know UNLESS... it's the cordless system that's kaput and not my outside phone line at all. Trust me. My head is spinning from all this.

Okay. So first I call all the important people on my personal, can't live without contacting me, list to alert them: call me on my cell number only. Second, I decide to forget about the entire problem altogether for a long while since I was in no mood to handle this hassle until way later. Why ruin a perfectly fine evening worrying about bullshit, was my thinking. Third, I then unplugged all the phones in all the rooms and basically merrily went about my business. Until about an hour ago, that is.

That is when I decided to use my one land line phone to test the cordless troubles at hand. Were I to plug in the land line, and it worked, then bingo. I would know it's the phone system that's broken, not the outside phone line. Minor problem however. Just where the fuck IS my land line phone?? I'VE CHECKED EVERYWHERE AND HAVE NO F'ING CLUE WHERE IT COULD BE. I'M READY TO SLIT MY WRISTS.

However, instead of doing that just yet... fourth, I decided to finally break down and using my cell phone, I actually called AT&T to have THEM test my line. Ooops. Can't be done at this hour. SOOOOO then.... some automated message comes on saying: THANKS FOR REPORTING YOUR PROBLEM. WE'VE SCHEDULED YOUR REPAIR TO BE DONE ON NEXT WEDNESDAY.

What??????????? They want me to wait five days for this repair??? ARE THEY NUTS??????

So fifth I immediately call AT&T back to get a human to tell them: UH... PROBLEM HERE. I CAN'T WAIT FIVE DAYS. WE NEED TO REWORK THIS REPAIR MAN VISIT LICKETY SPLIT. Which means tomorrow morning I will supposedly get a call from him Mr. Repair Guy sometime before ten. Yeah, right. Like that's ever going to happen. 

Which also means... I then asked for the number to call so that at one minute after ten I can call yet again to find out WHY THE HELL DIDN'T THE REPAIR GUY CALL ME YET? IT'S AFTER TEN. See? I like planning ahead for all my upcoming bitching. Or as Girl Scouts like to call it: being prepared.

Alright. So I get it. This is major crapola but I just have to wait to see how all this is going to pan out tomorrow. But truthfully? I sort of think I'm due to update my cordless system afterall which only means I'll be high tailing it to Best Buy sometime tomorrow to check out new phones. Damn. I totally don't want to be doing all this. Besides...

Buying new a phone doesn't even resolve my PRESENT problem. Which is: where IS my land line phone, anyway? The phone that I have for EXACTLY this sort of problem and/or emergency. I can't even believe what's going on here. All I know is... for someone as organized as I am... it appears I have no clue about anything anymore. 


Except... wait a minute. NEWS FLASH QUESTION: Do cordless phones need new batteries and I just don't know it?? On man... can you iMAGine?? Sorry... gotta go. Have to search out my stock of batteries IMMEDIATELY. Totally wish me luck because this being without a home phone set up will easily drive me nuts. And believe me... I'm halfway there as is.

GOING SHEER

I don't know what happened, but I spent several hours last week checking out tulle skirts. You know... kinda like the Carrie Bradshaw look. Or the lead dancer in Swan Lake, let's say. To satisfy my thirst for the skirts, I not only stared at zillions of pictures on Pinterest, but I also checked out quite a few How To videos on YouTube. After watching a bunch, I immediately became so intrigued with how simple the skirts are to make! Seriously. Some are even no-sew types. Besides, I find tulle skirts so damn feminine and sexy that I could have viewed all of them for hours and hours. 

Then... the next thing you know, one thing led to another and whammo. I began to become pretty inspired by the videos to also check out mere sheer skirts, much like the one up above. Turns out that didn't take long. Goodbye tulle. Hello sheer. I guess what I loved about it was that given today's fashions, you can now so easily wear a very sheer skirt by simply wearing a pair of sexy leggings underneath, and bingo. Totally easy to wear. Better yet... the skirts don't necessarily have to be worn for mere formal attire anymore, either. Talk about win-win. 

Which by the way, reminds me. How I ever lived without YouTube I'll never know. Yes, Pinterest shows instructions, recipes, etc. but for ME? Watching is way better than reading. Meaning: thanks to YouTube, I can learn how to do almost anything I want, by watching a video... which in my lazy world... is nothing short of miraculous.

Okay. So back to the skirt. Once I determined I wanted a softer, flowier skirt than that of tulle, I hightailed it right smack over to my local fabric store and yippee. I had my two yards of black sheer fabric that almost looks like chiffon, but instead is actually polyester. It has alot of sway and flow and sews up really great. Enter: last Sunday. 

I woke up. Cut the fabric, did the side seams, sewed a straight line at the top, gathered the thread to the size of my waist, added an elastic waist band and in practically no time at all, voila. I HAD A FANTASTIC SHEER SKIRT. I totally love it! It's just what I wanted. And... just what I'll probably being wearing tomorrow night. Granted, the temps will be COLD but who cares when it comes to wearing something great. Besides... that's what my fur coat is for. Warmth.

Oh yeah. What a surprise. I dropped the corset look you see up above for the top, but it matters not. I have plenty of tops to still create a wonderful way to wear the skirt on the last night of the year. I also made mine calf length rather than down to the ankle. It kinda makes it appear more casual. Regardless, I'm pretty psyched, I have to admit.  

Speaking of which... HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE! I myself love the beginning of each new year. I always have. In my mind, they are filled with great promise, lots of hope and basically, happy excitement. Which all in all... is a mighty fine recipe. I also like ending the year that's just passed, because it sort of has a "been there, done that" sort of vibe. Besides... I love looking forward to bigger and better. Which I hope all of us are able to enjoy. I hope we enjoy lots of love, lots of good health and lots of wonderful times. Yippee. I'm ready for it all!! 2015... I can't wait! 



   

THE SANTA SCAM

All day yesterday I thought about kids and Santa Claus. Specifically about kids who think Santa is real. And even MORE specifically.... about kids finding out Santa actually ISN'T a real person. I mean seriously... that can almost totally kill a tot's childhood, don't you think?

For instance... I would love to know what happens when some 6 year old is all psyched about Christmas, ready to sit on Santa's lap to list a slew of things they'd like for gifts, really getting into the holiday spirit, believing every second of the night and day that Santa is a real human being. Only to find out in school one day, when the kid sitting next to him/her in first grade let's say, opens up their mouth and suddenly boom. Ruins the innocent child for a lifetime.  

As in: WHAT?? WTF DO YOU MEAN THERE IS NO SANTA?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S ONLY MAKE BELIEVE?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S A FAKE?? WHO THE HELL TOLD YOU SUCH LYING GARBAGE? YOU'RE OUT OF YOUR FRIGGIN MIND, YOU IDIOT. 

Oh boy. This totally has got to be a parent's nightmare while calmly sitting in the carpool line, oblivious to the hell that's about to break loose as soon as their freaked out child climbs in the front seat.    

Not to mention the discussion that will go on in the lunchroom as each classmate confirms... UH... YEAH. SORRY TO BREAK IT TO YOU. SANTA IS A TOTAL LIE. IS NOT. IS SO. IS NOT. Good luck to THAT teacher is all I can say.

Somehow I find it easier for kiddies to swallow the fact the Easter Bunny is fake. Even that the Tooth Fairy is a scam. But their beloved Santa?? Man. That just seems to be to be a major bust out for children if you ask me. Who, come to find out... are usually about the age of 8 before they all pretty much have learned the truth. Uh... way too old in my opinion, but whatever. 

On the other hand, maybe it's not such a horrific rude awakening afterall. I myself don't remember how old I was when I found out Santa wasn't real. Nor who even informed me. Nor any earth shattering after effects from my learning the truth. Nor do I even remember any OTHER kid becoming devastated over the revelation. I do know however....

I ABSOLUTELY don't want to be the person to blow Santa's cover to some kid other than my own. Holy shit. Can you imagine the phone call I'd get from the parent? HOW DARE YOU TELL MY KID SANTA ISN'T REAL?? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, ANYWAY? IN OUR HOME... SANTA IS COMPLETELY REAL, YOU CREEPY FREAK. YOU GOT THAT??

Because uh... I so could turn out to be the spoiler alert. Which begs the question...


When DO you tell the kid? Well... if it's a kid who's going to be around ME... here's a heads up Mom and Dad. Tell them by the age of five, please. Any time after that, you're uh... taking a major risk in my breaking your child's heart. How the hell would I know if your kid hasn't yet faced the music, anyway?? Besides... I have a warning to all you parents who force your children to sit on Santa's lap while they're screaming from fright. DON'T! DON'T SIT THEM UPON HIM. DO YOU NOT HAVE A CLUE AS TO WHY YOUR KID IS SOBBING WITH HORROR?? ARE YOU NOT SEEING THAT THEY'RE SCARED TO DEATH FROM THIS OVERSIZED STRANGER?? I hate sooo those parents.

What I do think is sweet however, is when there are younger siblings and the older ones inherently just know: NEVER tell the little ones they are holding on to false hope. It's like it's a universal truth: don't tell your baby brother or sister the real facts about Santa. And basically, they never do. Well... until some little spat occurs in the toy box and boom. To hit the little brat hard, they just HAVE to blurt out: 

OH YEAH. AND BTW... NOT ONLY IS ELVIS DEAD BUT ALSO: THERE IS NO SANTA CLAUS. So there. Put THAT in your pipe and smoke it! 

Oops. So much for losing your innocence. Ho Ho Ho.

BREAKING POINT

Talk about feeling frazzled. At the moment, I'm kinda trying to figure out at what point I should determine whether or not I'm being harassed. Even better...at what point I should report this deal since it is for sure becoming pretty abusive. 

On the other hand, I don't want to wind up on my local TV news reports where you sometimes see people who are being scammed and are at their wits' end. Unless of course, I can become famous kinda like my video with the plastic surgeon. So exactly what is it that is bringing me to my breaking point? Here's the deal...

There are three phone numbers that show up on my Caller ID again and again... none of which are familiar to me. In fact one of them claims to be from ATT. Naturally I know better because I figured if it were legitimate, it would be AT&T. Big difference. 

Regardless, I'm totally about to slit my wrists because get this. THEY CALL 47 TIMES A DAY. EVERY DAY. ALL HOURS. I MEAN IT. SERIOUSLY. THEY CALL OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Naturally I never pick up the receiver but MAN are these people ever persistent. Not to mention a major pain in the ass. Plus... this has been going on for over a month now! And... they NEVER leave a message. 

To help me figure out this problem, several weeks ago I Googled the phone numbers and bingo. Sure enough there are all SORTS of complaints going on out there. It's CRAZY. And THEN.... guess what happened earlier today?? I get a phone call. I look at the Caller ID and guess who it is?? IT'S ME. CALLING ME!! Whaaaatt?? They now have my identification PLUS my phone number? These freaks now have me calling myself!! WTF IS GOING ON HERE?? 

Naturally I Googled this scam too and sure enough it's happening all over the place. Supposedly they are after my credit card information and believe you me... I'm this far from being so damn disgusted with all these phone calls that I'm almost ready to say: HERE. TAKE ALL THE FUCKING INFO YOU WANT. I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ANYMORE. JUST PLEASSSSSE STOP CALLING ME ALREADY!!! Trust me... if I thought this would work, I would so consider it.


I will say this however... apparently the harassers believe in Christmas because get this... today, Christmas Eve... I've gotten no calls whatsoever!! First time in over a month! I can't TELL you what a relief it's been!! Totally feels like Peace on Earth, afterall! If on the other hand, these idiots return to calling me 47 times daily, I'll so be ready for the funny farm. To which I can only say: it so won't be funny in anyway whatsoever. Best part of their taking a break? I won't be awakened at 8:00 in the morning! 

NO one who knows and loves me would ever call at such an un-Godly hour. Indeed... my beauty rest is precious. 

YIPPEE. ALMOST XMAS!

Yay! It's almost time to celebrate Christmas and as a special gift to my readers... I am including a little holiday message. I did it once before several years ago, so I figured it's time to do so again. Besides... since I've done the last one, I've accumulated way more readers so boom. You now get to see what I look like as well as hear what I sound like. I hope everyone enjoys their families, friends, and festivities. Most of all... thank you for being a part of Living As Linda! 

I know... kinda cool, right??

THE BIGGEST LOSER

See this guy? I have no clue whatsoever who the hell he is. And I assume neither do you. But man, did he ever make me laugh when he was a little kid. 

Well, wait. Not little in the least. Why? Because when I first found his picture, which was all over the Internet years ago, it was so absolutely hilarious that I completely burst out laughing my ass off but good. In fact, now that I think about it... maybe it was even on my own kid's Facebook page that I first saw it. All I know is that it struck me just so damn funny, I could hardly contain myself.

In the meantime, up above there the photo I'm showing you, is a shot of the same kid but now, all grown up. But when he first claimed his fame, he was a mere lad of what? 8 years old maybe?? And trust me... he was no lean, mean fighting machine either. In fact, he was maybe THE chubbiest kid you ever saw in your entire life. Then... as if that wasn't enough, legend has it that someone maybe... or maybe not... Photo Shopped something onto his Tshirt and bingo. The rest is history. Wanna see what this guy looked like as a little boy?? Sitting down?? OMG. It's hilarious.

 Can you BELIEVE this picture? I mean seriously... you don't know whether to laugh or cry for this kid. Whose name, btw, I can't seem to find anywhere. In the meantime, man. What a childhood this poor kid must have had. Forget the Tshirt bit. He's totally the fattest kid I've ever seen. In person or otherwise. 

Can you imagine what it must have been like for him on the school bus? Let alone at school? Packing his lunch must have been no easy feat, either. I mean seriously... it's one thing to be chubby. It's totally another thing altogether to look like THIS. And... children can be soooo damn mean thus what this guy's psyche must be like today, God only knows.

I remember being in Elementary School... and there was also a pretty chubby guy there as well. Not THIS size mind you, but still. He was definitely the chubbiest guy I remember way back when. He was pretty nice I must admit but again.... you have to sort of feel sorry for someone that young being that much overweight. Life for children like that totally can't be easy.

On the other hand... the smiling face of this particular kid just knocks my socks off. Let alone the message on his shirt. I mean seriously... is his face glowing or what?? Which just goes to show, as I've always said: I amuse easily. Apparently very easily. I guess the bottom line to all this is: I am thrilled for the grown up version of this totally overweight little boy; for while the man now is certainly no Adonis by any stretch of the imagination, he is certainly not a freakishly obese adult as when he was young. Talk about thank God for small favors, right? And by the way...

This reminds of me my theory that yes, while I am perfectly chubby myself, I figured that by the time I kick the bucket, and am old and finally thin, myself... I'll probably have JUST the figure I've always wanted when eventually laid in the casket. Which leads to my OTHER theory whereby.... to hell with dieting and trying to look like a string bean at my age. I'm perfectly happy having 15 extra pounds because it basically says to me: YIPPEE. I'M STILL ALIVE AND STILL HAPPY AND STILL HEALTHY. Hence: A few extra pounds = alive and smiling! Who could ask for more?

P.S. Oh yeah... for all those who keep asking: yes, my "pixie" style wig arrived the other day and it's GOING RIGHT SMACK BACK to the store. It looks horrible on me! Plus... I look 40 years older wearing it. It's a no brainer: easy come, easy go.

CURLY GIRLIE

I have always loved curly hair. Lots of it, too. Which is too bad... since I was born with FINE, STRAIGHT, PRETTY CRAPPY hair. And not much of it, either. Damnit. Therefore while I pretty much hated the home perms I remember my Mother giving my sister and I when we were little, I grew to love spending zillions of bucks as an adult for salon perms which in turn gave me a sort of crazy ass Gloria Estefan look in the 90s. I totally embraced it. And, I wore it like that for years. Here... THIS outta give you the idea.

Then a few years later... I cut my hair so boom. I was back to short, straight hair. And eventually back to my classic, parted down the middle, chignon which I'd worn on and off for 30 years. Which kinda looked like this at all different ages:

And THEN, not only did I finally go blond but I also tried my beloved curly hair look once again. It was iffy at best. No wonder. By my 60s my hair was very noticeably thinning, graying, etc. so my options for curly hair was totally limited. VERY disappointing. Besides... I was getting WAY too tired of all the products, primping, blow drying, etc. that was necessary to make myself look half way decent. Here... you can see why it was not such a hotsi totsi look at all. Plus... because of my thinning hair, I also had to keep cutting it shorter.

Until... I have the tresses that I wear today. As in: Little Boy Haircut.

Which I totally love, I might add. And apparently so do strangers. I have people come up to me allll the time telling me they love the look. Although in truth... I bet they just say that more for the fact that not just anyone would have the balls to go this short unless they really had to. Me? I guess have the nerve any 12 people put together but whatever. ON THE OTHER HAND....

You sitting down?? Want to see what my hair looks like NOW??? OMG. You so won't believe it. It's basically what I've wanted my entire life! Gulp. Take a gander:

Totally cool, right?? So here's the deal. I saw this wig on TV... fell in love with it about a year ago. Then I saw it again about a month ago. Bingo. THIS TIME I ORDERED IT! I also ordered another short "pixie" style wig, but it's out of stock right now, so they'll send it to me when it comes in. It's crazy excellent! I love this! And... the pricing was way cheap enough, too. What a deal!


I even went to my hair stylist last night and had her cut it exactly to my specifications. She did a great job, right? Turns out the wig needed some tweaking given that while I wanted a full, curly hair look, I also didn't want to look like a freaky clown and/or Little Orphan Annie with hair completely out of control. Plus... the length needed to shortened. So boom. I now have two looks for the price of one. My favorite little boy haircut PLUS... my favorite... curls galore. Who could ask for more?


Of course I haven't worn it out in public just yet but that day will come soon enough. Besides... this is a totally fun look if you ask me. Yippee. Yippee. CURLS!! Man I love that. 

SHIT. NOT AGAIN.

Lordy Lordy. No sooner do I happily get rid of the disgusting, unsightly Clemson van parked next door then boom. I now have a truck in it's stead, parked in the driveway of my idiot neighbor. What the hell is WITH this guy?? You can only iMAGine my reaction when I saw it coming down the street only to now have to stare out my bedroom window and see it forever. Plus... you should HEAR this thing. Think: sputtering. How it even runs I have no clue and frankly... I don't think it runs at all, given the amount of time the guy spends outside, trying to make it work.

So look. I've been in a family of cars for years and years and years beginning with my Dad and brother drag racing every weekend at the local race track in Miami. Wanna talk trophies? Don't even ask. Then they had a hard core dragster that some guy used to race for them. Then they even rebuilt some sort of '57 Chevy station wagon that was MAJOR fast and they raced with that, too.

Oh yeah. When my brother made his own bucks I remember sitting next to him, as he drove around plenty in everything from a Corvette to a Rolls Royce. Ferrari's, and Lamborghini's, too. And... everything in between. Which totally reminds me of...

When I was 16 years old and Bob was 21. He had his first Corvette who's engine you could hear from what seemed like miles away thus it was pretty damn easy to hear him coming up the driveway, pretty much below my bedroom window. Expect the one f'ing time when he got home, apparently without my hearing the engine, and he came up the stairs to our bedrooms and boom. HE CAUGHT ME SMOKING. What??? All of sudden his car is as quiet as a mouse? So quiet that I didn't hear him in time to quickly stash away my evil sin? Jesus. Don't ask. All I know is: thanks to Bob, my parents weren't particularly thrilled to learn I was into smokes. Regardless of the fact I stole the cigs from where else? Their OWN stash! But whatever. In the meantime...


Back to the eyesore. Basically... so yes. I'm not new to old cars. In fact once my Dad retired he even had a warehouse slash showroom slash garage of GRANDPA'S OLD CARS in which he collected and/or refurbished and/or rebuilt vintage cars from the 20's, 30s and 40s. Even earlier, maybe. Who cares. What I DO care about is this piece of crapola now sitting in the driveway next to me. The driveway that is apparently going to be the garage mechanic's work place. The mechanic of course being the neighbor himself. I mean seriously. If you ARE going to be a car buff... get a place to store it! And to work on it! Just don't make me stare at your stupid ugly cars/trucks right outside my otherwise stunning house and window! 

Besides, I hate this guy anyway, but that's a whole other story onto itself. I can't imagine his keeping it the color it is now but trust me... I shudder to think what it COULD be when all is said and done. If it turns out to be another homage to Clemson I'll shoot myself altogether. 


Oh yeah... as if I don't have enough to bitch about... get this. Now not only does he have this truck in the driveway but now, also a big sign of how Jesus is the Season. Or something like that. Are you kidding me?? I have to now live next to a church, too?? Because basically... I just have to tell you that for me personally, Jesus plays no big part whatsoever in my particular holiday season celebrations. Which kinda means: the entire deal is up for debate if you ask me. Anyway... 

I now have to figure out exactly how I'm going to approach this entire topic at the neighborhood Christmas Open House party next Sunday. I am totally praying he doesn't show up. But of course he will. Maybe even in the friggin' truck. Damnit. 

DRONING ON... and ON... and ON

Yippee. What a great time I had with my kid when he was here last week. I ALways love when he comes home. Of course to him... it's not really coming home. To him, home is in Miami thus in HIS mind, he's merely here to visit Mom. Big difference in my opinion, but in the end it accomplishes the same thing. I GET TO SEE MY SON. Besides... home is where the heart is, right? 

Plus... now that he's finished with school, he was able to stay here for five days with no worries of classes, time schedules, etc., etc. Which meant: plenty of time to do all the manly things I needed help with, plenty of time to decorate the outside of the house with Xmas lights, plenty of time to help me out with all my new techie crap and naturally... plenty of time to let me savor each and every delightful minute with him.


And then I remembered: his alltime favorite playtime activity while at home. Buzzing around with his remote control toy helicopter. 

OMG. It all came back to me within hours. How I used to tell him: STOP WITH THE BUZZING ALREADY. For while indeed, I love watching him play with his helicopters, there does come a point however when you just have to say: enough is enough. Well... for ME anyway. For him, never. Yet little did I know that on THIS trip home, there was going to be an upgrade to the entire deal. A GREAT upgrade, too I might add. Get this...


HE ORDERED A DRONE! A VERY COOL DRONE, TOO. Which in my kid's mind far outweighs all the other helicopters put together. And frankly, I can't blame him. THIS TOY IS UNBELIEVABLE. Because get this... it's like a helicopter AND a Go Pro all in one. IT TAKES HD VIDEOS OF EVERYTHING WHILE ALSO FLYING ALL OVER THE FRIGGIN PLACE! Oh man. You just have to see this toy. Plus... you can't believe HOW DAMN HIGH IT FLIES! This toy, made by Husban, is something to watch, alright. Let alone a great gift to buy for any gent on your shopping list. I was HAPpily going nuts while watching this drone deal fly allll over the house. And I do mean: all OVER the house! For not only did my son love playing with it inside, but you should SEE what it does outside. In fact... here. You can watch one of the videos for yourself. IT'S WAY COOL. CLICK HERE


We did videos at night and during the day and this is one from the daytime. Duh. Granted... this is one of the first, thus it's sort of a practice video. The controls are very sensitive and it's plenty tricky getting to work it perfectly, but regardless... IT'S AMAZING, RIGHT?? There is no sound, but who cares. It's a drone... not a microphone set up. LOOK AT HIGH IT GOES! It's the next best thing to being a bird, if you ask me. Plus, I guess if you REALLY needed to check out your roof for damage, boom. You'll have a first hand look in no time at all. I'll bet the insurance companies would get a major kick out of me were I ever in need to turn over roof damage videos, right? What can I say? This toy is cheapie enough AND it's incredible. Who could ask for more?


Well... other than wishing my kid could have stayed much longer, I guess. For as I said... we had a fantastic time, a fantastic Thanksgiving celebration (with 17 of us no less!) and a fantastic amount of laughs. We went to great restaurants, a wonderful men's clothing store and but of COURSE our mandatory visit to WalMart SuperStore. Best of all... I get to think of my kid every night when I look outside. HIS XMAS LIGHTS LOOK EXCELLENT.


I'm totally blessed, I must say. And man... in addition to all his other qualities... does he ever have excellent taste in toys! My son is by far my alltime favorite person in the entire world. Uh... next to myself, that is, but who's counting. Oh yeah. Get a load of how the house looks at night! It's a crappy picture, but you get the idea. THE BEAMS OF THE LAZER LIGHTS ARE INCREDIBLE.