tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65235426357909119502024-03-13T22:36:30.778-05:00Jackson Hill Street NewsI'm bad on the phone. If I weren't bad on the phone, these are the things I would probably tell you about.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.comBlogger116125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-45603142803450299032009-05-11T22:57:00.006-05:002009-05-12T11:20:27.189-05:00dogs feel shame<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Xw4OGclGGQxf4O0ON38ovHbQWtB_qDDMUudpeZ_b5t0IolpDnk9qzzIgev4SxOvUwydT2d5UPLHPhdtZlwIT2-m50jEqFfWtrarQXtINRHApt18yYnp0U-wsyQrg_cEMNAofhFSeNejM/s1600-h/il_430xN_59606897.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334781920463165938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Xw4OGclGGQxf4O0ON38ovHbQWtB_qDDMUudpeZ_b5t0IolpDnk9qzzIgev4SxOvUwydT2d5UPLHPhdtZlwIT2-m50jEqFfWtrarQXtINRHApt18yYnp0U-wsyQrg_cEMNAofhFSeNejM/s400/il_430xN_59606897.jpg" border="0" /></a> According to <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/scienceandtechnology/science/sciencenews/3659416/Dogs-can-be-jealous-say-scientists.html">this article</a>, dogs experience complex emotions like jealousy, pride, and DYING OF EMBARRASSMENT. <a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=21734656">This dog</a> is wearing a scarf with ears. Over his real ears. Why? Whyyyyyy?<br /><br /></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-81743751025693132912009-05-11T13:46:00.008-05:002009-05-11T13:55:32.549-05:00I'm sorry if you know her<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipEoArHCcZqxDtzSM2oCq-sTaRzLDKqvQF5gxpT-xC0wWuzllyZgwO76rf1Yu8vLaD1nbV1ug_qNM9RLNpYhQBcKZYTj4Wa8wXlnPY0sgiiJD-y7Z9kdgaWtKhHqlMHG6S5r1HyJuHYFow/s1600-h/alison_Etsy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334640237358436738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 141px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipEoArHCcZqxDtzSM2oCq-sTaRzLDKqvQF5gxpT-xC0wWuzllyZgwO76rf1Yu8vLaD1nbV1ug_qNM9RLNpYhQBcKZYTj4Wa8wXlnPY0sgiiJD-y7Z9kdgaWtKhHqlMHG6S5r1HyJuHYFow/s400/alison_Etsy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="justify">If you know <a href="http://www.etsy.com/storque/spotlight/etsy-finds-felt-so-good-3877/">this person</a>, and if this post offends you on her behalf, then I'm sorry. But I had to take this opportunity to discuss how "ironically funny-ugly" can be taken too far. In fact, ironcially funny-ugly only works if a person is actually naturally pretty. It's like wings and waffles. It has to be sweet and savory. It can't be savory and savory, or there is no irony. Do you understand? So, if you know this person and you are offended, then I'm sorry I called her funny-ugly, but you really need to have a talk with her. </div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-56946314155729643352009-05-06T21:49:00.002-05:002009-05-06T21:50:24.356-05:00Huh?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYdko5CsKQDn-gLkltlufePoYsvzRgN7cxIffkPcuqakUQ-g6ES1uzWQrWM7RiR9lRELI214JgWucl4TBAOS4gzZAUuygAdF6ZTX_-fR9nGRRrFV5N8l_oJjmMrjpv72XGvteeJGsfJQy/s1600-h/LSU+plate.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332908898776428386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 147px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYdko5CsKQDn-gLkltlufePoYsvzRgN7cxIffkPcuqakUQ-g6ES1uzWQrWM7RiR9lRELI214JgWucl4TBAOS4gzZAUuygAdF6ZTX_-fR9nGRRrFV5N8l_oJjmMrjpv72XGvteeJGsfJQy/s400/LSU+plate.jpg" border="0" /></a>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-11800335963800120292009-05-06T21:39:00.005-05:002009-05-06T21:46:58.996-05:00overheard in the war room<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIK0pBil7v0471j06IIPXzA2oMDXGU9twXXcmQNWpBbf52hbwqLpnbJNWNzF3hCpCp2nNug_YdOjQrG16HH780O5B4HMvqIIEbEHZOIBw8wnyJLV1PgBEZLIomu0l7CX-zImzczpP5_UkV/s1600-h/muppets.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332907640563117522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIK0pBil7v0471j06IIPXzA2oMDXGU9twXXcmQNWpBbf52hbwqLpnbJNWNzF3hCpCp2nNug_YdOjQrG16HH780O5B4HMvqIIEbEHZOIBw8wnyJLV1PgBEZLIomu0l7CX-zImzczpP5_UkV/s400/muppets.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p> </p><ul><li>Blaine: I took the "which muppet are you?" quiz.</li><li>Alison: Who were you?</li><li>Blaine: Guess.</li><li>Alison: Rolf the Dog?</li><li>Blaine: No</li><li>Alison: Kermit the Frog?</li><li>Blaine: Yes</li></ul><p> </p><ul><li>Alison: Which one am I?</li><li>Blaine: Cookie Monster. </li><li>Alison: Why Cookie Monster?</li><li>Blaine: Wild Man.</li><li>Alison: You mean Animal? Why Animal?</li><li>Blaine: The Crazy Chef.</li><li>Alison: Forget it.<br /></li></ul>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-49083650166757375972009-04-15T10:46:00.003-05:002009-04-15T10:49:24.375-05:00pop quiz!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyjOYLEf3zPN0IgL9XInP9kVuoyD5kCVL8EmUPHo_j82W_H5ZYeq7eHCKS_wlZvJlZJ69Q0Tc-Bisv8dOBnDgihosil4UX_Xxf37wT9YDjoheglHuHPH4OjsFw7LmTQN6rziuTPLyFRox/s1600-h/quiz.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324945320764901874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 111px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyjOYLEf3zPN0IgL9XInP9kVuoyD5kCVL8EmUPHo_j82W_H5ZYeq7eHCKS_wlZvJlZJ69Q0Tc-Bisv8dOBnDgihosil4UX_Xxf37wT9YDjoheglHuHPH4OjsFw7LmTQN6rziuTPLyFRox/s400/quiz.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>If you are one of the three people who reads this blog, you should ace <a href="http://mentalfloss.com/quiz/quiz.php?q=441">this quiz</a>. Thanks for the tip, Ashley!</div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-55945452869827251412009-04-14T20:52:00.005-05:002009-04-15T10:55:31.906-05:00parenting compatibility test:Parenting <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">compatibility</span> test, courtesy of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Boden</span> (<a href="http://www.bodenusa.com/">http://www.bodenusa.com/</a>).<br /><br />Me: Blaine, look at this photo.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKwkQ2ayUYbbiVrarZKpg2vxe8fJ8BR6tulYysgvCUfBAM7tnMNApQ68-dFSFO1WeIRMP20ZE1DDzENnjy0IEN1WagRdG5kiwESJEwn4O-CwCbcmSIvAdf_Jkm2uwtA3kuHYoWQ6mF5ki/s1600-h/boden+usa.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324730192807919522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 145px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKwkQ2ayUYbbiVrarZKpg2vxe8fJ8BR6tulYysgvCUfBAM7tnMNApQ68-dFSFO1WeIRMP20ZE1DDzENnjy0IEN1WagRdG5kiwESJEwn4O-CwCbcmSIvAdf_Jkm2uwtA3kuHYoWQ6mF5ki/s400/boden+usa.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div></div><div>Me: What's wrong with it?</div><div>Blaine: They're kids. </div><div>Me: And?</div><div>Blaine: They're dressed like hookers?</div><div>Me: And?</div><div>Blaine: They're acting like hookers?</div><div>Me: And?</div><div>Blaine: They're drinking?<br />Me: Correct. </div><br />Okay, maybe they're not acting like hookers, but the one in the middle is definitely going to grow up to be the girl that "forgets" to wear her undies while getting out of the limo.<br /><br />Shit like that explains shit like this:<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324734927298915362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 281px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkSBfdnNWDJ0FrC2ULfqdCszjqoC-y6p7Rn58cSNVW2dmYEh2Q-ESAOCTWEy91BBZrWwRaLEFAwmTmnl8GKc_jVOt5aGSMNDlnp7MV-Y1Amo6huRB9sYSIfL2KelnhMcHnro6db7yJrNr/s400/oc.jpg" border="0" /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br /><br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /><br /><br /></script><br /><br /></p><p>Way to go, media. </p>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-11164021434332201832009-04-07T12:36:00.001-05:002009-04-07T12:37:05.721-05:00Question:<div align="justify">What is the worst button you could possibly push when trying to put someone on hold?<br /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Answer:</span> </div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrGhVh6D5xh-lR6Y5PFZ_NlDbJyyC51gsiEQTzWDbRMZAqgERGMBmP3rlmIi3Y8fAmAO07QyeSTNGeDSx5CNvRQgQqRP8YEyFVnio53PKx89z8HHxd-cgOmtF_VwIkxOAKusA2TQA4ckBJ/s1600-h/500px-Speaker_Icon_svg.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321699601077189666" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrGhVh6D5xh-lR6Y5PFZ_NlDbJyyC51gsiEQTzWDbRMZAqgERGMBmP3rlmIi3Y8fAmAO07QyeSTNGeDSx5CNvRQgQqRP8YEyFVnio53PKx89z8HHxd-cgOmtF_VwIkxOAKusA2TQA4ckBJ/s200/500px-Speaker_Icon_svg.png" border="0" /></a><br />We know this because Blaine has done this. Twice. </div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><u>Case study #001</u>: </div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><em>(phone rings)</em></div><ul><li><div align="justify">Blaine: Hello?</div></li><li><div align="justify">Caller: Yes, my name is Mr. Lawyerpants. I'm calling about some work that we did with you a while back. I have some questions about the research data from our case. </div></li><li><div align="justify">Blaine: <em>(in a smooth-talking radio dj voice)</em> Mr. Lawyerpants, of course! Nice to hear from you again. May I put you on hold?</div></li><li><div align="justify">Caller: Certainly. </div></li><li><div align="justify">Blaine: <em>(yelling down the hallway) </em>HEY AL!!! There's this guy on the phone who says he worked with us. He has some questions about something. </div></li><li><div align="justify">Alison: Who is it?</div></li><li><div align="justify">Blaine: Mr. Attorneysocks, I don't know. He's on line 1.</div></li><li><div align="justify">Alison: What does he want?</div></li><li><div align="justify">Blaine: <em>(irritated)</em> How should I know? Just pick up line 1!</div></li><li><div align="justify">Alison <em>(attempting to pick up line 1) </em>I can't pick up line 1; you're on line 1. Did you put him on hold?</div></li><li><div align="justify">Blaine: Oh, @*#&!!!! </div></li></ul><p align="justify"><u>Case study #002</u>: </p><p><em>(phone rings)</em></p><ul><li>Blaine: Hello?</li><li><div align="justify">Caller: Hi, my name is Mr. Saleseyguy and I work for Gotgreatstuff. Can I talk to the person in charge of making decisions about buying stuff? </div></li><li><div align="justify">Blaine <em>(in a smooth-talking radio dj voice)</em>: Sure, please hold. </div></li><li><div align="justify">Caller: Thanks.</div></li><li><div align="justify">Blaine <em>(yelling down the hallway)</em> AL!!!! There's someone on line 1 who wants to sell us stuff! Too bad you already have someone who sells you stuff! Guess this guy is SOL! HAHahahaha!</div></li><li><div align="justify">Alison: <em>(attempting to pick up line 1)</em> I can't pick up line 1; you're on line 1. Did you put him on hold?</div></li><li><div align="justify">Blaine: OH @*#&!!!!</div></li></ul><p align="justify">And THAT's why we don't answer the phones. </p><p>p.s. Administrative professionals' day is April 22. </p><br /><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></script>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-68613343779888129242009-03-02T22:26:00.006-06:002009-03-03T08:54:16.932-06:00Goatador<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrLSg6uR4KLzjk6IFtbfBIHJ4NtBtmLR_mru1KxvAV8FZF7fe7aEa0qKNJffLUvNPcvaEnFczsmNXUYmjGtY2q96EubE8wC7sRlPZg8A6Q5h90gcVx1nJXiNerDkzzqP7XqZWy-ASF5Cj/s1600-h/dna_easy-steps.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308814132769178626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 388px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrLSg6uR4KLzjk6IFtbfBIHJ4NtBtmLR_mru1KxvAV8FZF7fe7aEa0qKNJffLUvNPcvaEnFczsmNXUYmjGtY2q96EubE8wC7sRlPZg8A6Q5h90gcVx1nJXiNerDkzzqP7XqZWy-ASF5Cj/s400/dna_easy-steps.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="justify">Success! We just figured out what Cricket is, and we didn't even have to spend $18.32 on an-home kit to do it (<a href="http://www.muttmart.com/Dog_DNA_brees_test_SKU-DoggieDNA.html?gclid=CJffxq32hZkCFRk_awodfBjMnA">down from $73.27</a>, act now)! Despite loving water, having a square head, and being very, very bossy, she is not a border labbull. She is in fact a Goatador Retriever. Goatadors are very low maintenance; you practically don't have to feed them at all! They can live on day-old refried beans thrown over the fence by your neighbor, leaves daintily pulled from those weird purplish-green bushes, or -- in a pinch -- huge quantities of horse manure. Oh sure, the last one is a little hard to digest, but when the Rodeo is in town, it's really economical. Boyfriends love poopeterians because the burps provide great cover ("It was the Goatador! I swear, baby!"). Watch the serving size, though. Cricket ate so much the other day that she threw up. Horse poop. Out of her mouth. Pooped out of her mouth.*</div><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308827889576282386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOP1Qkt24IFpAF0gyCgznK0p5xwqRwPyz6dzJYNbktnszdiqfJxRQEe0m9LvCXUfKBinzuvldm0rIJIiOBU707VEhFfkw0dDuzoigxWtTk5NDbLSZAVLgo54onTxjZtDkIhhdWetj9KRjP/s320/2881079048_c72177f8c9.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">*It's not an intestinal blockage, don't worry.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></script>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-64856633286012280902009-02-28T19:36:00.001-06:002009-02-28T19:39:52.866-06:00costco c-block<div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296777582298037922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj66apGQxG-d6yx6pVckNxd4F7jhztYJF7biCyabYiryB2VO_siQRD7Wr5x6mbVwL3DZU1uE6HW1ubZIbUQe1d0J7CVtCatERwDRROWud59wdR2OjW-hi7rmhzAhJGzkIQkZMUu7NdNrLmX/s320/costco.gif" border="0" /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="justify">Last month, after years of waiting patiently for a Houston commercial real estate developer to finally obliterate one of the last green-ish plots of land within the loop, one of Blaine's lifelong dreams came true: a Costco opened in our neighborhood! It's the opposite of NIMBY, it's YIMBY!<br /><br />If you are like me, you probably dreamed as a kid of getting locked into a mall or department store after closing time. Sure, you'd be scared at first, but then you'd realize that you could try on ALL of the clothes and make-up, eat <a href="http://chicagoist.com/attachments/chicagoist_olivia/2006_11_frangos.jpg">Frango mints </a>until you got sick, and then drift off to sleep in one of the beds in the linen department. Your mom would probably be so impressed by your resourcefulness that she wouldn't even ground you when she picked you up the next morning. Where was I? Oh yeah, you could totally live inside a Costco. </div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">But just because you <em>can </em>live in a Costco doesn't mean you should. Poor Blaine, with his wide-eyed enthusiasm bubbling over, trying to sneak a 3-ton box of Little Debbies into the shopping cart. Sorry, buddy! We've already got all those G-D Girl Scout cookies to contend with. Also, just because Costco sells 20lb slabs of Atlantic salmon doesn't mean I want to eat that much. I mean, what if I get <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/19/theater/19pive.html">mercury poisoning</a> and lose my chance to fill in as Miss Elle Woods in the musical version of Legally Blonde? I am all about the Costco cock-block. If it's not toilet paper, soap, laundry detergent, or a ten gallon drum of Oil of Olay, it's not getting in the cart. We might, though, try to get locked in after closing time. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-38950833891105467312008-12-20T22:39:00.005-06:002008-12-20T22:47:12.112-06:00your sh*t DO stink<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv7LehBEPehC1hJnS3mgWUK5iPE3lIpwi9KpEM77XM3wRv2mhw8jCWXM3-ZrvSLEOSD3Jtl5hArf2VwVjkhqX91wTu26l8tuBpZ5zhy6Ntt6v7YJbnYk99RH_XlIQKcaN2Sl_O-qUJP1hv/s1600-h/Continental_Airlines_logo.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282098990417089394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 82px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv7LehBEPehC1hJnS3mgWUK5iPE3lIpwi9KpEM77XM3wRv2mhw8jCWXM3-ZrvSLEOSD3Jtl5hArf2VwVjkhqX91wTu26l8tuBpZ5zhy6Ntt6v7YJbnYk99RH_XlIQKcaN2Sl_O-qUJP1hv/s320/Continental_Airlines_logo.jpg" border="0" /></a>Number of times I've been farted on in coach: 0/1000.<br />Number of times I've been farted on in First Class: 50/50.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-86001997307147807482008-12-16T16:29:00.003-06:002008-12-16T16:54:28.300-06:00dwarfs, courtesans, sardines<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-MNlEpJe7u_D8L3CUgRqn5ORJVEK19jcWMz-jE39xcVNqej7mg3vJvgHGBZwnKlLddzxiVLTS4EWh54q59N03U3BfjUuw8UVhyB1_3i_jWWYGdxPUhnjZ05XhC3lLYDyRQoL8VLe8JVC/s1600-h/itcotc_usa1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280518732200659746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-MNlEpJe7u_D8L3CUgRqn5ORJVEK19jcWMz-jE39xcVNqej7mg3vJvgHGBZwnKlLddzxiVLTS4EWh54q59N03U3BfjUuw8UVhyB1_3i_jWWYGdxPUhnjZ05XhC3lLYDyRQoL8VLe8JVC/s320/itcotc_usa1.jpg" border="0" /></a> Have you ever lay awake nights wondering what life would have been like for a prostitute and her dwarf companion in 15th Century Venice? I sure have. Luckily, this novel by Sarah Dunant has the answer to that question and more. In one scene, the lovely Fiametta declares that she would sell her virginity for sardines fried with sugar and oranges. The day after I read this passage, I saw fresh whole sardines for sale at Central Market. Since this was the only item for which I did not have to fight a crowd of overachieving Type-A foodies (the cheese section was b-a-n-a-n-a-s), I gave it a whirl. The dish was good, but in this market, I would have wanted more for my virginity. <br /></div><br /><br /><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /></script>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-57211050723593657292008-12-12T16:19:00.004-06:002008-12-12T16:41:46.109-06:00Boomin' Granny!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmjuD6g0XZ6nYWfwvE5Cq-x-eejtPhtYUXvoqo1hhFGaPUjs4hi6frWAcElxU6T84HGHvKA_DfNAriXtCX-Pf5kUVIdKK3jA6lG_fe_QYmqjgInAzzY5bOEMvIiM0grX_kE4vArb71ef1/s1600-h/DSC02156.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279033478772092594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmjuD6g0XZ6nYWfwvE5Cq-x-eejtPhtYUXvoqo1hhFGaPUjs4hi6frWAcElxU6T84HGHvKA_DfNAriXtCX-Pf5kUVIdKK3jA6lG_fe_QYmqjgInAzzY5bOEMvIiM0grX_kE4vArb71ef1/s400/DSC02156.JPG" border="0" /></a>Don't hate, player! You WISH you'll look this good when you're in your 70's. When you're her age, are you really going to hustle that titanium hip of yours down to <a href="http://www.chinatownconnection.com/blog/asian-harwin-district.htm">Harwin</a> to pick up the latest fly gear that all the honeys are rockin'? Hell to the nizzo. I bet you'll just stick to some tasteful cardigan and slacks combo. Bo-ring. You'll never pick up your future-ex husband in something like that! Knock-off BCBG is where it's at!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbV-CnfQZ1q_ZEzj6gPAGyK67cI-C-pbODMdWxm2LRsTWG0X2ogGMaacnPk6_Vop1wO6Dg-XpE0mzl1RMXYkqtA0XswLAQXsE3AV-Allo8xkfEmiqdQiEqyHz1-7mrJKafXjflYwWYTWef/s1600-h/IMG00073.jpg"></a>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-27927952975675345982008-12-12T16:04:00.003-06:002008-12-12T16:15:04.522-06:00Overheard at Starbucks:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXzL14jJ7agW6rSm3jDmWYL_WtY8fimyNF3sSIhrUTyuvtzLVsESe5V8H0-yh-fkuIdfdZeYWClwHJse4mwbMFQ3tJzBpNWgvrPcndTSRx5g_thH8I6XdT-4j_nrxDFZ4UTi7kUgNn1E-8/s1600-h/Starbucks-logo.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279030062751594306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXzL14jJ7agW6rSm3jDmWYL_WtY8fimyNF3sSIhrUTyuvtzLVsESe5V8H0-yh-fkuIdfdZeYWClwHJse4mwbMFQ3tJzBpNWgvrPcndTSRx5g_thH8I6XdT-4j_nrxDFZ4UTi7kUgNn1E-8/s200/Starbucks-logo.gif" border="0" /></a>Blaine: Venti hot chocolate, please.<br />Barista: Name?<br />Blaine: Blaine.<br />Barista: What?<br />Blaine: Blaine.<br />Barista: Huh?<br />Blaine: Brian.<br />Barista: Ohh. BRIAN.<br />Blaine: Yes. Thank you . . . LaShonda.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-2374621656972626342008-11-25T10:20:00.004-06:002008-11-25T10:27:53.045-06:00signs that I love my camera phone<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPk8dRqhMCYRRZz28eADJYn6eZ-8psyatWqXNdira-OxsZ3wPut8_DkKRL8wurAkureJ8WZdV-z347Ga4LD5huMEd5uJz8Uvt862R3eDzC7-sDrtqBGozj2b1nH-v5gGTCPNG6hpq40k7-/s1600-h/IMG00083.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272632176328636338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPk8dRqhMCYRRZz28eADJYn6eZ-8psyatWqXNdira-OxsZ3wPut8_DkKRL8wurAkureJ8WZdV-z347Ga4LD5huMEd5uJz8Uvt862R3eDzC7-sDrtqBGozj2b1nH-v5gGTCPNG6hpq40k7-/s400/IMG00083.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibi4ptT8jwjQZf_eF6NeHrQb8dRZONnZV2Da5Va9Q5vVYKDQdg4_dhI0u-AfsSYQ5wGtiN9ezAv2rBX7OUorZb1G_tED2euyvgGZaEPWpiLgRkHszbFdYce8H5AH1euVy1k3HB9mFZKDtB/s1600-h/IMG00073.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272631757383716002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibi4ptT8jwjQZf_eF6NeHrQb8dRZONnZV2Da5Va9Q5vVYKDQdg4_dhI0u-AfsSYQ5wGtiN9ezAv2rBX7OUorZb1G_tED2euyvgGZaEPWpiLgRkHszbFdYce8H5AH1euVy1k3HB9mFZKDtB/s400/IMG00073.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_lJqEpzQZnRdj64Zo4LdGZEZShPPXStCTO54aljieezfWF3d0AjAkNNfIA30haIDBNV1O_N4vWjvaH7OIkAfdvZJxqG8K5QjZkmVZKriTMqUJW9gJ54F25lXfdxUVR99gAHhWhVDSzQZ/s1600-h/IMG00075.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272631320319426418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_lJqEpzQZnRdj64Zo4LdGZEZShPPXStCTO54aljieezfWF3d0AjAkNNfIA30haIDBNV1O_N4vWjvaH7OIkAfdvZJxqG8K5QjZkmVZKriTMqUJW9gJ54F25lXfdxUVR99gAHhWhVDSzQZ/s400/IMG00075.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></script></div></div></div></div></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-42073183592382311892008-11-10T22:38:00.004-06:002008-11-10T22:54:00.052-06:00the McRib is back!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-OAtP1qrLgMNnhuON1_O6aAQF8Rx6W9V_7Ad8yen3lmWIiX5CyOFk7-ZtOznNWZvaOoczniDvneinDa1_3xWBAkavEvP-osGCwX9IlmQKTfIfibjq0qwHH2jgTIR0uqV_SBSUh0jRnOp/s1600-h/mcrib.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267257493306428434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 224px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-OAtP1qrLgMNnhuON1_O6aAQF8Rx6W9V_7Ad8yen3lmWIiX5CyOFk7-ZtOznNWZvaOoczniDvneinDa1_3xWBAkavEvP-osGCwX9IlmQKTfIfibjq0qwHH2jgTIR0uqV_SBSUh0jRnOp/s400/mcrib.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify">And I still do not get it. People I know and love are irrationally excited by the return of the McPressed Meat sandwich and it really puzzles me. (Kind of like how the funniest people I know think that A Confederacy of Dunces is the most hilarious book ever and yet I can't get through the first chapter.) I've never eaten a McRib before, and perhaps that's my loss. On the other hand, maybe the reason they're only available once a year is that Ronald has to save up enough pig lips and cow buttholes to meet the demand. I do not get it.<br /></div><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /></script>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-72999871708647397972008-11-10T12:41:00.002-06:002008-11-10T12:43:03.773-06:00I want a second opinion<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ICDHojcpGfj3KJRsN3V4OEqj5Fo1x_XepfKQ8GUC-65SDb9KczsXm6MFjp5OzPb9fbGL0kDU71fmFaB62Os5KX90P2xcvQ5bRvJcPdluqT6GYuk3AtkxVanLm5M5Vn4A_Dluw-4IvCDd/s1600-h/sleepy+crick.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267100911851304690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ICDHojcpGfj3KJRsN3V4OEqj5Fo1x_XepfKQ8GUC-65SDb9KczsXm6MFjp5OzPb9fbGL0kDU71fmFaB62Os5KX90P2xcvQ5bRvJcPdluqT6GYuk3AtkxVanLm5M5Vn4A_Dluw-4IvCDd/s320/sleepy+crick.jpg" border="0" /></a>I took Cricket to the vet the other day because she was limping and she had a bald spot around her eye. The diagnosis: "lameness and alopecia." That cost me $125.00. I should have just sprayed Rogaine on her face.<br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br />urchinTracker();<br /></script>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-67620007390864006482008-10-27T11:12:00.037-05:002008-10-28T11:24:04.174-05:00Economic stimulus package for dummies, brought to you by Skymall<div align="justify">The hucksters at Skymall, who have remained solvent by assiduously underestimating the intelligence of the American public, appear to be turning over a new leaf. Before the economic downturn/recession/depression of 2008, most Skymall merchandise seemed to mock us with their luxurious frivolity.<br /><br /></div><div align="justify">Take for example "<a href="http://www.skymall.com/shopping/detail.htm?pid=102535620&c=#moreinfo">Instant Armrest</a>," which asks "Why spend hours resting your elbow on the hard, narrow factory door panel?" and retails for $19.95 (not to be confused with the "<a href="http://www.skymall.com/shopping/detail.htm?pid=102112646&c=10117">Road Rest</a>" also sold by Skymall, which comes in tan or gray and retails for $24.95). My answer to Skymall: of course I <em>want </em>to cruise down the road with my arm comfortably resting on the door panel, but I shouldn't have to choose between that and my prescription drugs! <br/> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2kzHsvdXLJGlDzp_miHTkQ3DEb00AuBBOgxurlzUWPjFEY-ZaEwS87_B7iFNJgBTd5YdismSAYoPZe0AGPnHu-iU-css7tij12Tr5XB9vPB3X0qHaizBp-EnBJv1zcKZ6w3QrzqGJD1x/s1600-h/instant+armrest.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261881214407720274" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2kzHsvdXLJGlDzp_miHTkQ3DEb00AuBBOgxurlzUWPjFEY-ZaEwS87_B7iFNJgBTd5YdismSAYoPZe0AGPnHu-iU-css7tij12Tr5XB9vPB3X0qHaizBp-EnBJv1zcKZ6w3QrzqGJD1x/s200/instant+armrest.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJBsKuPm7yuCmDn3QJevjjOppQijWkW_O1WJdNdk9kkT31pLKzlJCZwf0j5_vv4yI6QGbnGxJFzBXOyeva_VDt2tO8Gukg5r1gCbloetAca4fBQDJ60ex5F-XYUqpQO5ZJJW7Il8bAcWO/s1600-h/road+rest.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261881217175484466" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJBsKuPm7yuCmDn3QJevjjOppQijWkW_O1WJdNdk9kkT31pLKzlJCZwf0j5_vv4yI6QGbnGxJFzBXOyeva_VDt2tO8Gukg5r1gCbloetAca4fBQDJ60ex5F-XYUqpQO5ZJJW7Il8bAcWO/s200/road+rest.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div align="justify"><br />Recently, though, there have been signs that the good people of Skymall have heard our pleas. Many of the products on offer in the October catalog seem almost tailor-made to help us through these difficult financial times. </div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Pet Observation Dome - $29.95</strong> </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /></div><p align="justify"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261882448153340322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTQrxeszF0ZiheO_uyQkrCMJV5wN32CebdVZDRmvyDvuENRUs81aibmGH7QFwdG0TP519G5hxd_w0ixb_u6d9bfYGRObNWcjd8dAYCCLD1BB1iUOTr7wBXUBQ-qiTJ2nVXM1JPNtOr1X2y/s320/pet+observation+dome.jpg" border="0" /></p><div align="justify">When your tech stocks were riding high, did you spend your weekends watching marathons of "The Dog Whisperer" on the National Geographic channel? Did you then become convinced that your doggie needed to be socialized and exercised for hours and hours each day? And did you then decide that the best way to accomplish this goal was to enroll your "baby" in doggie day care (one named Doggie Woggie or Gucci Poochie) for thirty bucks a day? Typical yuppie mistake. I don't blame you; I blame Cesar Millan. Much to Mr. Millan's chagrin, the new and improved Skymall has your back! Rather than spend $30 each time you take FiFi to school, why not spend $30 just once on the pet observation dome? <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhwbxEfy7fg">Step 1: cut a hole in your fence. Step 2: put your dome in the fence. Step 3: make your doggie look through the dome!</a> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Portable Office - $39.99</span></strong><br /><br /></div><p align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTGHVCIr-VGOyraz9TdlYa9jWEHC6ZaDgKilP2FItLrTcHljDvsFgpgJ6Hoyz87VKbNZXCVGD_vxGEN5krXOQeM8RM-T1I89AHfXImf_qgGKe5OKaw3OzJ9CcgRbtwRjKOdyVsIxs3TrS/s1600-h/portable+office.jpg"></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261902787296500322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhyphenhyphenl9G0YytWOS_iQ5SKqVtjSdf9favCcQixQdeeOazdxpcLxRtI6Rfahm1L2jt8IK7UNL0_7n7NYQab73cg_gwesZWUyOrELQt1E9GYKABE_zVAGjJqkJWHUmbY0bvcikMpYizfvsDaRqn/s320/portable+office.jpg" border="0" /><br />I for one am relieved to know that the escalating price of chairs will not hinder my productivity! </p><div align="justify"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Airchamber Covers - $799.00 - $999.00</span></strong></div><div align="justify"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261903202619448050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnVVussZOeszDsIoz0QqRl0hHztgiV3IqpZShpVasrmfRmS-Y5QTa9S6k4E60hrUOb4KjYr4Iu533fVqGw7S8EVq5JwcamWugnTm7VnHEQynzrhyphenhyphenFxkTp4SqeGmq4KtffdZHpAqaFjdYTf/s320/air+chamber.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify"></span></strong>Oops. Did you forget to buy a house before you bought your Ferrari F430 Spider? Don't feel bad; it happens to the best of us! Instead of taking your masterpiece back to the dealership, why not consider storing it in a giant Ziploc baggie? Using this Ziploc baggie is arguably better than any dumb garage would be since the baggie protects your car <em>and </em>lets you rub your neighbors' noses in it. Take that, rest of the trailer park! Thanks Skymall!!! </p>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-62992191451071416822008-10-24T10:07:00.004-05:002008-10-27T08:40:07.529-05:00hello my baby, hello my darlin'. . .<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzYZCqLHFuUak-liMlR5Wg44EMlb0QPSGjowpztiTubF9aylGFtPUXiBfqJsMwhWiYJ2x6b_cUCu3HFt0oV9nnf9u7aVlb0QKAcZIxzvqh99D7TMpmkfifEoo0LDceDCvaXK9pKopfWzck/s1600-h/wb_signing_frog.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261827968817345810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 163px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzYZCqLHFuUak-liMlR5Wg44EMlb0QPSGjowpztiTubF9aylGFtPUXiBfqJsMwhWiYJ2x6b_cUCu3HFt0oV9nnf9u7aVlb0QKAcZIxzvqh99D7TMpmkfifEoo0LDceDCvaXK9pKopfWzck/s200/wb_signing_frog.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify">On the way to work this morning, the first two radio stations I tuned in to (yes, I live in the dark ages) were playing 1) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9RZXaoaK8NI">with arms wide open</a>, by Creed featuring the insufferably insufferable Scott Stapp and 2) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QrhII_AOK_M">underneath your clothes</a>, by the insufferably flat stomach of Shakira (I bet a dollar that if you click on the Shakira link, you don't make it past 00:36.) My friend Ba and I have a jihad against singers who can only make noises using the backs of their throats. My duties in this jihad consist mostly of (a) screaming "Yeaaarrgh" and changing the channel or (b) not changing the channel, but singing the song in an exaggerated and mocking way such that my version is exponentially more annoying than the original could ever have been with the express purpose of replacing my version in the minds of innocent bystanders (e.g., passengers in my car) thus causing them to hate the song as much as I do if only because they can't stand the thought of my singing it and yet they can think of nothing else the next time the song comes on (see, e.g., Brian Cronin and Wonderwall by the delightfully British Gallagher brothers). This morning, I used tactic (b) on Blaine (yes, we spend 24 hours a day together) to great effect. I only wish I could have toggled between the two songs, so I could knock out two infidels with one car ride. Now I will devote myself to enemy combatant #1 -- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXcQGsoDkDk">4 Non-Blondes</a>. Viva la Revolucion!<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br /><br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /><br /><br /></script>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-56336358480933192412008-10-14T23:55:00.004-05:002008-10-17T20:34:54.226-05:00IF I did it. . .<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKeCVfU6DRoq7OiLqBIcDXqPqBEGfI_Cgb3o-_39r5CgTlQSl52GPceGLqaGexjJttRqg6xYfGp_RCKtt3HN8CMDn3-BNmJY8pREib3hVIDxHK3AMn0pf7FvRLtUoEW0dF3fPyA07lzodt/s1600-h/if_i_did_it.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257239975952685842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKeCVfU6DRoq7OiLqBIcDXqPqBEGfI_Cgb3o-_39r5CgTlQSl52GPceGLqaGexjJttRqg6xYfGp_RCKtt3HN8CMDn3-BNmJY8pREib3hVIDxHK3AMn0pf7FvRLtUoEW0dF3fPyA07lzodt/s320/if_i_did_it.jpg" border="0" /></a> Someone tinkled a little bit on the stairs. I'm not saying I DID do it, just that if I did it was probably because I sneezed REALLY, REALLY hard.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></script>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-62281097307165654532008-10-14T14:07:00.004-05:002008-10-14T14:40:17.351-05:00Oh the weather outside is 89 degrees and humid. . .<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBBIWABdOPxI148pOnJ_vf1xBOH1zOmC2wIBq2w6YeX6JNQeukUDibjiXBuHF4pFHEsq6ODoGNpviK7IfqPVYu303LjAcufpqYir-TZO2r3A3bArFvsaDblraLiXlRCdwvgjvf_SRBjbhO/s1600-h/frosty+friends.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257090205846991666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBBIWABdOPxI148pOnJ_vf1xBOH1zOmC2wIBq2w6YeX6JNQeukUDibjiXBuHF4pFHEsq6ODoGNpviK7IfqPVYu303LjAcufpqYir-TZO2r3A3bArFvsaDblraLiXlRCdwvgjvf_SRBjbhO/s320/frosty+friends.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify">Have you ever had one of those days where nothing seemed to be going your way? Maybe your 401K was obliterated when the Dow lost a billion points, or perhaps your entire house was washed down Allen Parkway during Hurricane Ike. Worse yet, maybe you woke up to find that the cute pixie-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ish</span> haircut you fell asleep with turned into an unmistakeably female softball coach-type mullet overnight. If you need to turn your frown upside-down, you can do what I do -- visit your local Hallmark store to listen to the soothing sounds of Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer. . . in October! Thank you, good folks at Hallmark, for reminding me about the truly important things in life!<br /><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br /><br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /><br /><br /></script>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-66443818548587425942008-10-13T00:28:00.005-05:002008-10-13T00:43:42.426-05:00reasons my friends will be struck down<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfExfhgZhINWq08rCI92TujfeF2nm5mabhdPnyFHTnGrnP53dAumThKkiBDQ3aLS1Veyk7EXq0MU2K0z6gBlfYuQVzpQ3UnEDj4KY8DtID4MBGLrLRD5Etx7EMfYwtpbKu0cshR4W1rHf/s1600-h/ledger.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256506330191500866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfExfhgZhINWq08rCI92TujfeF2nm5mabhdPnyFHTnGrnP53dAumThKkiBDQ3aLS1Veyk7EXq0MU2K0z6gBlfYuQVzpQ3UnEDj4KY8DtID4MBGLrLRD5Etx7EMfYwtpbKu0cshR4W1rHf/s400/ledger.jpg" border="0" /></a>Yesterday my friend (who shall remain nameless lest I hasten her struck-down-edness) and I were discussing how much Matilda Ledger is starting to look like her late father Heath. (Don't judge us; we had already covered the vital issues of the day: Britney's new body and the scourge of High School Musical). My friend's take on Matilda and Heath? "She should go as the Joker for Halloween." Zap!</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br/>Different nameless friend, discussing whether <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thiomersal">Thimerosal</a> can cause Autism, tells me she already knows what causes Autism: <a href="http://www.hairfinder.com/celebrityhairstyles/jenny-mccarthy.jpg">Jenny McCarthy</a>. And zap.<br /></div><div align="justify"></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-69933359193088015732008-10-04T18:21:00.005-05:002008-10-04T18:27:42.927-05:00that's what she said<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjW-2F5ZddcULFU0HGs4ujmydrGGEyjBn_B1ZI8lyvnfxwgC4AsAguY4_JjQFR1UZxcAfOBLj1wVCbRGwPXKByWbSbbv4fMyytw38gLEfH0u7TNknjHkbTTg9RC1Nk0X2q6DYbVrBxEMjM/s1600-h/michael+scott.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253443760323869970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjW-2F5ZddcULFU0HGs4ujmydrGGEyjBn_B1ZI8lyvnfxwgC4AsAguY4_JjQFR1UZxcAfOBLj1wVCbRGwPXKByWbSbbv4fMyytw38gLEfH0u7TNknjHkbTTg9RC1Nk0X2q6DYbVrBxEMjM/s320/michael+scott.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>At the dentist the other day, I was getting fitted for a mouthguard (on account of I grind my teeth at night) and the dental hygenist told me "relax your cheeks."<br /><div><br /><br /><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br /><br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /><br /><br /></script></div></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-76811357732461194792008-09-29T17:02:00.000-05:002008-09-29T17:02:20.545-05:00the future vice president of the United States?Hey, if Sarah Palin can do it, so can she! Come on, U.S. Americans!<br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lj3iNxZ8Dww&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lj3iNxZ8Dww&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />I think that if most U.S. Americans could have access to maps, then they would know how close Alaska is to Russia and the land boundary of Canada and like such as.<br /><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nokTjEdaUGg&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nokTjEdaUGg&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /></script>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-52860018208411866232008-09-29T17:01:00.002-05:002008-09-29T17:03:12.843-05:00keratin is mean<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CwSbPxRZ3CI&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CwSbPxRZ3CI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br />urchinTracker();<br /></script>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6523542635790911950.post-6678164271278073732008-09-17T10:40:00.007-05:002008-09-17T11:40:09.377-05:00more than meets the eye<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlLA6feSnrI25XZVWQ7krcuQzHtUvB3BDAkCrmirFhhKuNs-v5BA9osTrib0m-N50HMJkq-vp0qU9og_utXwdP0sAFTFrMu3waDz_SmO7PPIU-BbcSA-vVSl_mKxP8RvSLlqUmBwokUHj-/s1600-h/optimus+prime.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247020392452277762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlLA6feSnrI25XZVWQ7krcuQzHtUvB3BDAkCrmirFhhKuNs-v5BA9osTrib0m-N50HMJkq-vp0qU9og_utXwdP0sAFTFrMu3waDz_SmO7PPIU-BbcSA-vVSl_mKxP8RvSLlqUmBwokUHj-/s400/optimus+prime.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify">Late Friday night and into the early hours of Saturday, Blaine, Cricket and I took cover in our downstairs bedroom as 110 mph winds swirled around us, rattling the windows and howling down the streets. We listened to radio reports of transformers exploding all across Houston, showering the streets with bluish green sparks and leaving 95% of our city in total darkness. The cable went out around 11:00, never to return. Our lights flickered, but they always came back on. We christened our transformer <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Optimus</span> Prime. There were acts of heroism (Blaine prevented the palm tree in our neighbor's yard from falling on us simply by staring it down for two full hours as Cricket and I napped on the bed) and acts of treachery (if it's brown, you FLUSH IT DOWN!) as the human condition was ripped from its protective wrapping and exposed for all to see. It's Wednesday now and we still have power (and a large dose of survivor guilt); everyone else we know is without. The best part of this hurricane is that we've gotten to spend time with our friends and family, even if they are just coming over to sit in the A/C and charge their cell phones. My parents have been staying with us since Saturday. When my father arrived, he came bearing a Cuisinart and his own <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">canister</span> of King Arthur flour. We ate an apple <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">galette</span> and flaunted our ability to use appliances. There are lines for everything: lines to get into Kroger, lines to get gas, lines to get into the nail salon (what?) I'll post some photos that we took in our hood. Thanks for checking in with us, we're going to be okay.<br /></div><script type="text/javascript"><br /><br /><br /><br />_uacct = "UA-3649984-3";<br /><br /><br /><br />urchinTracker();<br /><br /><br /><br /></script>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14305565272651343059noreply@blogger.com1