What's with all the pussy's??

Seriously, what the f*ck is with all the cats in the news lately?!?

A few minutes ago the most emailed story on Boston.com was about a cat in Connecticut that was cited for terrorizing neighbors.

Then there was the newsworthy cat that got stuck in a wall.

And now CNN is reporting on acrobatic cats.

Evidently the Moscow Cat Theatre is in town and let me tell you, the video is freakin' creepy.

However, if you live in Chicago and can't make it to NYC to catch the show, check out the Acro Cats.

Equally creepola.

Personally I am not a cat person. I find them skulky. And I think they look weird and uncomfortable in human clothes and doing stupid human tricks.

However, show me a dressed up monkey and I will laugh and laugh.

Stupid cats.

Put some jam on the fetus.

Today I was relating a story of no importance to my sister.

And then suddenly it took a odd turn.

What follows is the gist of our conversation.
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Me: So this woman comes into the bakery with a little tiny baby, four weeks old.

Her: Yeah?

Me: Yeah, so anyway, this baby was wicked tiny
(we're from Boston, we say wicked)

Her: Yeah?

Me: Kinda it looked like a fetus really. It was that small.

Her: Spread some jam on the fetus.

Me: What?

Her: Yeah, spread some jam on the fetus, make it look newborn.

Me: Well, it was crying to beat the band.


Her: Probably because it was sticky. From the jam.

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This is the kind of conversations we have when she is sleepy and I am sugar deprived.

Ice Cream Sundae Lovin'

For some reason I have decided to give up sugar and bread and crap for two weeks.
And for someone who works in a bakery... really it's like giving up breathing.

Well anyway, now that I have made it through two days without even the tiniest bite, I can't stop now.

But it is kind of ridiculous because all I can think about are ice cream sundaes.



Two weeks til Sundae!!

Shamrock Bum Bum

Hmmmm - people are WEIRD.

Firstly, I have learned not to gender identify gingerbreadmen.
Uh, I mean gingerbreadpeople.

Secondly, I will freely admit that Phil the Groundhog is not the most scientifically appropriate weather predictor ever known to man.

But you know, I cannot really be held responsible for turning your baby's poop a startling shade of shamrock green.

It's a fact.

A woman actually came to me at the bakery to complain that the shamrock cupcakes that we frosted with a vibrant green turned her child's poo-poo green. Not only that, but since said child crapped in a diaper, the green poo also stained said child's bum green.

She then invited me to check the diaper to see for myself. Fu*king GROSS!

Note to parents everywhere: YOU and only YOU are the only person ever interested in examining your baby's poo.

As it turned out, she really just wanted to see the food coloring bottle to make sure that Junior wasn't going to permanently stained for life.

But what was she doing feeding a toddler a massive huge luridly green cupcake? That kid was probably up for two days straight.

No wonder she was cranky.

I try to make this sh*t up, but really I don't have to when it walks in off the street.

If you can read this...

THANK A TEACHER

What about that disease you picked up in Diarrheastan?

I love the Sopranos.

But I hope to sh*t that this whole season isn't split between the hospital bed and Tony's Ativan induced La-La-Land.

Someone needs to get whacked.

With luck it's going to be Vito "the Wiener" Spatafore.

It's Pockalicious!

I went to the Super 88 today.

Aside from the fact that the seafood section makes me gag a little, I love shopping at the Super 88.

A box of jasmine green tea costs .69 cents.

I have no idea what 94% of the stuff they sell is.

I do know to stay away from mushy looking things in jars marked "pickled". I have learned to love sriracha hot sauce. I have become expert at breathing only through my mouth.

But the BEST thing about Super 88 is that you can buy Pocky there.

I love Pocky.

Chocolate-covered sticks that might as well be made out of crack considering how incredible my jones for them can get!

untimely death of a genre

It used to be that movies with the opening title:

BASED ON A TRUE STORY

gave me a little thrill.

(think At Close Range)


Now the only channel you can watch anything BASED ON A TRUE STORY (re-runs at that!) is on Lifetime: Television for Women.

Grrrrrrrrrr.

Note to Hollywood: Bring back the old hopped-up Sean Penn, take the stick out of your ass, and bring us more true stories!

And PPS: Stop making movies that club us like baby seals on ice with obvious messages of supposed moral upperhanded-ness and earnest-ness.

Blech!

Make me laugh at the misfortunes of others or give me back m'dang money!

Mange moi, je suis un cupcake.

I love working at a bakery. It smells nice, tastes nice, and it's fun to decorate cakes for a living.

People are happy in a bakery - so long as you stay off the topic of weather forecasting groundhogs and don't gender identify gingerbread people.

The downside is that I ALWAYS smell like a cupcake.

And small children eat bits of frosting off my pant leg.

Or they point to me at the supermarket and say "cookie! cookie" creating a very awkward moment for parents who

a) haven't yet twigged that the nanny feeds Junior illicit sugary cookies

and who

b) don't know that I am the person who works at the bakery, not some random creep walking the streets giving Precious a cookie!

Plus, if I eat one more crackaroon - I think I will die.

Ew!

I get that Donald Trump has a craplot of money.

I get that he is one of those geezers that cannot deal with hairloss and who prefers to sport a totally grody, totally tacky, overly hairsprayed, gauzy looking comb-over.

I get that he enjoys saying "You're FIE-erd" and doing the four finger poke salute.

What I don't get is why on earth he would date his own daughter.

Firstly, Ivanka looks like she was weaned on a pickle.

And secondly, is he kidding?

Ivanka would never go for someone with such a crappy comb over.

Blah de blahh blah feckin' BLAAAHHHH

2006 Academy Awards

What the F*CK!?!?!?!

Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring. Self-righteous. Boring. Bogus. Self-absorbed. Boring. Boring. Boring.Boring. Boring. Boring.Boring. Boring. Boring.

What you missed:

The Music
Pumm pum pun pumm pmmm punn punn (lots of trumpetty orchestra music)

The Host
Jon Stewart: Hi! Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment.

The Presenters
Blah. Blah. Blah. Movies rule.Blah. Blah. Blah. Directors rock. Blah. Blah. Blah. Revered industry.Blah. Blah. Blah. I hope this gig gets me some scripts. Blah. Blah. Blah. Unfunny comment.

The Actors
Me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, pumm pum pun pumm pmmm punn punn (lots of trumpetty orchestra music) - NO WAIITT I'M NOT DONE!!! me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me.

The Awards
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Supporting Actress
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Supporting Actor
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Film
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Director
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Actress
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Actor
Pumm pum pun pumm pmmm punn punn (lots of trumpetty orchestra music)

And then the 11 o'clock news.


PS: And another thing. George Clooney - you can stop being such a blowhard.
For crying out loud you were on The Facts of Life!!!!!!!
GET OVER YOURSELF!!!!!