It's a Very Hollow Weiner 'Round These Parts

Oh, hi there.  Have we met?  Allow me to introduce myself.  My name is "Diary the Bitter".  Wanna see my picture?  That's me, right there.

You might ask, why so bitter Diary? Well, I'll tell ya, it appears that my Halloween good times are over.  For a combination of reasons, lack of time, kids growing up, general exhaustion, we have not decorated our house for Halloween this year.  I have a few things up inside and last weekend, I half-heartedly threw some purple lights and skeletons over a couple of bushes in the front yard, but that's it.   It's a radical departure from last year, where we were clearly going for some kind of world record in outdoor decor.

We will still have our usual open house and plans are in motion for my traditional vat of chili, but the excitement is not there.  The only thing that I might be able to count on is that my sister in law will join me in downing a large number of cosmos. Hmmmm, maybe the weekend is looking up after all.

Happy Halloween everyone!

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It's the Little Differences

When we were in Italy in August, I noticed a couple of unusual things in the Florence train station. The first unusual thing was that there were wine vending carts on the platforms when you step off the train. They are the first thing you see, before coffee, before food, before newspapers. The second thing was the Mc Donalds in the station. It looked like any other Mc Donalds, but the menu included such things as Tira Misu flavored shakes and whole fried shrimp.

But upon walking out of the Mc Donalds , that was when I saw the strangest thing of all - Benecio Del Toro on a 30 foot high billboard advertisement for what I though was condoms, but turned out to be ice cream.

I suppose it never dawned on the Italians that Magnum ice cream, with it's black and gold color wrapper and hyper-masculine design might spell jimmy hat before it spelled two scoops of vanilla with jimmies.

Naturally, I snapped a picture of the ad (see below). But I was not content with my simple vacation snapshot and have since dug a little deeper. Turns out that there is a significant advertising campaign associated with this concept. It's pretty lame, but I am going to guess that they backed up the money truck and unloaded a pile as high the billboard picture on Benecio's doorstep. I guess this is where academy award winners go to plump their bank accounts when the work gets slow. What's next? Adrien Brody for Tantum Rosa? No. I am not going to tell you what Tantum Rosa is. Google it for yourself. Tee hee.

Life According to the Hotness Monster

When I think about my role models in life it hurts my head, because I don't think I really have any. I am a pretty firm believer that all men are created equal, except for people who suck. Those people are somewhat less than equal.

However, I most definitely admire my cat. Have you met my cat? This is him. His name is Spike the Hotness monster. He is 11 years old, which is nineteen bajillion in cat years. (Are there even such a thing as cat years? I don't know, I made it up. Whatever.)





Here are some of Spike's philosophies that bear repeating:

People Suck: When you don't need them for something, like food, water or affection, then they are of no use to you. Find a cozy place behind the big chair in the living room and sleep there for more hours than a human could count without an abacus.

Flirt with Everyone: You should not care about someones race, creed, color or species. If nuzzling a dog gets him to move off the choice spot on the stair landing, then nuzzle away. Being able to perch there and sleep with one eye trained on the flora and fauna out the window is worth a little insincere cuddling. And being that humans are too dumb and lazy to think beyond food, they will fill your bowl every time you sidle up to them. Score!

Explore the World, But There's No Place Like Home: The guy across the street likes when you roam his property because it keeps the mice away, there are cat treats in that gig. The little boy down the block gets all excited when you sit on his front lawn, so he convinces his mother to feed you. This extra meal helps to plump you up for the chilly winter months, when you will need your energy to sleep behind the chair. But remember to start the morning with a bowl of cat crunchies at home and end the day the same way. Nobody really knows how much you eat during the day. All you have to do is dilate your pupils and give them saucer eyes, magically, the bowl will fill.

Never Bathe or Poop in Public: This one is self explanatory. No one should ever see you either cleaning your business or doing it. Arrive everywhere looking clean, with a spring in your step.

A Narrow Eyed Glare is More Effective in Communicating Your Displeasure Than Raising Your Voice: Look at this picture, it's self explanatory. Oh, you soiled yourself in fear. Sorry. See how effective it is? Now go clean yourself up so that you can continue to gaze lovingly at my incendiary hotness.

Falling for it

There are pros and cons to north east livin'. On the con side, the summers are slapabitch hot and humid and the winters are icy, cold and snowy. But on the pro side, we have fall. Not just your average fall, but crispy sweater weather, hot apple cider-drinkin, colors ablaze fall that makes you want to apologize to the bitch you slapped during your case of the summer crankies.

There are problems with fall though. In many ways, fall is kind of a supermodel girlfriend, gorgeous and all up in your business one day, then suddenly gone, leaving only a skeletal reminder of the warmth and beauty that you had when she was here. Ok, who are we kidding? Supermodels don't deserve to be compared to fall and they're not likely to be hanging around our asses for a day, no less a season.

Fall is much more like a very beautiful sweater that says hand wash, but you haughtily toss it in the regular cycle, rendering it threadbare before the chill has left the air. No, wait a minute, fall really isn't like a sweater or any article of clothing for that matter. Maybe it's more like a hawk soaring in a crystal clear- - - aw, screw it!

I'm not poetic and anyone who's ever had a conversation with me will tell you that I'm not deep. Nope. Pretty basic. Pretty inarticulate. But I really do love fall. As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, there is something that I can compare fall to: Fall is like apple pie, slightly warm, sweet and golden and gone much too soon.

Happy fall everyone!

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm Apple Pie.

Montauk Daisies


Colorful falling maple leaves

Post it Note Tuesday

It's time for Post It Note Tuesday hosted by Supah Mommy. Go here to link up and get in on the fun.

. . . And. It. Was. Awesome!

First of all, let me express my extreme bitterness that the clip of Wayne Brady, Iron Mike and Bobby Brown that was included in my last post, has been taken off You Tube. Hello? Viral is the best free promotion a clip could ever have. Whatever, dumbass.

So in its place, I give you a far, far better clip to enjoy. This one is better because I was there to see it (though it is not my video). Last week, Billie Joe Armstrong joined the cast of his Broadway musical, American Idiot for a one week run. We quickly snatched up whatever tickets we could get and we went on Friday night. In case you are wondering what I thought of his performance and the entire show, consult the title of this post.

Enjoy -

Come Back to me Bobby

If I were to pull out my soapbox, climb up and tell you about how evil and mind-numbing reality TV is, would you listen? If I were to tell you how bereft of value and sociologically damaging I thought it was, would you agree? If the answer to these two questions is yes, then this is not the post for you. This is a post about a secret obsession. A dark, ugly, secret obsession. The kind that could ruin a career. A reputation. A blog following.

You see, for the past five years, I have had an emptiness that nothing can fill. It's like an itch that I have been unable to scratch ever since Being Bobby Brown went off the air. Oh sure, I have watched other reality shows since. Shows likeh Top Chef and Project Runway, but these are competition shows, it's not like being invited for an inside look into the circus of someone's life like like BBB was. The fact is that NOTHING has given me the soul satisfying schadenfreude of Being Bobby Brown. In my humble opinion, it was the train wreck of all reality show train wrecks.

So you can imagine the unbridled joy I felt when I saw the video gumbo of disaster from Wayne Brady below. Bobby Brown and Iron Mike? Oh the dramatic possibilities! Tribal tattoos, crack addiction and and an awesome 90's jam, all in the same video. I am so there!

Please enjoy this delightful music video with my compliments. Sadly, there is not a whole lot of BBB video out there to share. I searched high and low for the Dookie Bubble clip, but no luck. You are familiar with the "dookie bubble" incident right? Right? No? Urban Dictionary that phrase immediately after watching the video below. You won't be sorry.

Happy Sunday!