Deceiving smile. Don't let it fool ya.

I have this love/hate relationship with Martha Stewart. On the outside, she’s this sweet, domesticated, family loving woman who delights us with seasonal activities through her pretentious magazine and website.

On the inside, she’s a narcissistic and overly assertive over achiever, who happens to know her way around a kitchen and craftroom, with control issues. She’s evil. Her employees have said so.

Where she claims she enjoys bragging sharing her love of her collections, family recipes and gatherings, I can’t help sense a bit of bullshit coming from it all.

I’m not going to touch on her felony charges on inside trading. That just made her a even bigger icon!

I know she has a small militia of people that she rules under a tight fist to come up with ideas and recipes. She recruits her friends (the rich ones of course) and does magazine spreads in the middle of summer of a Thanksgiving feast on a porch for her November issues.  How Normal Rockwell it all looks.  There she is gathered with a family of 4 or 5 who are seated at a rustic picnic table. All are dressed in either Eddie Bower, Coldwater Creek or LL Bean outerwear (in 85 degree weather). Even the kids tolerate the scripted activities of collecting leaves and turning them into garland. Scrumpious epicurean, handed-down-through-the-family recipes of pumpkin pecan pie, cauliflower a la Aunt Mae, and great grandma’s version of cranberry/orange/ginger nut bread, then the root vegetables from Martha’s garden, and a turkey that would make Gordon Ramsay envious. Luminary pumpkins, velvet stamped leaves arranged in a wreath, table scapes with handmade felt placemats made by the children, autumn arrangements in antique vases of pheasant feathers and pussy willows(….umm, Martha. ……pussy willows are a spring bloom? Hmm? BUSTED!) adorn the screened in porch.  We’re suppose to believe that she’s actually having a Thanksgiving dinner with these friends. It’s all made to say “Isn’t this quaint? You, too, can do this!”.

It’s enough to make you vomit.

My friend gave me some “Martha Stewart LIVING” magazines from 1999-2000 that a friend of hers gave her. It’s a 1/3″ thick periodical with glossy pages and a TON of advertisements. Which are equally pretentious (COACH for your dog!).  Despite the fact that it IS a Martha Stewart magazine, the articles themselves were interesting. Keeping in mind that SHE, Martha herself, didn’t write them, makes it more tolerable to ingest the fact that someone else is just as knowledgeable in collecting vintage wastebaskets or came up with a clever idea on taking old baking pans and making candle sconces out of them. Knowing Martha didn’t come up with article ideas makes me feel better inside.

Martha is not a genius. She’s just a good bullshit artist business woman with strict ethics.

Maybe that’s the key to it all.

Make sure you hire a staff that you know is ALMOST as good, clever or as innovated as you are. Then set them loose to put together your website or magazine to look as if YOU created it yourself, giving as little credit as so not to give it away that you had nothing to do with it at all.  Add your “Letter from the Editor” and a couple of little side notes that you’ve written and the guise is a win.

This then leaves time for you to go back home and clip the dead out of your roses.

And get your nails and hair done for the gala reception for one of your pretentious media friends who owns a newspaper conglomerate.

Where did I go astray?

I know my way around a kitchen. I can do crafts.  I can wheel a glue gun. I can swing a hammer. I have a garden. I know animals. I have a multitude of collections. WTF?

Oh, wait, I don’t wear Prada.

Which is leaving me with an idea.

I really couldn’t think of one. This isn’t the first bathroom I’ve renovated. It’s so far been really boring. We’ve revised the plan about 10 times already. I’ve had to relent to white fixtures instead of “bone”.  But that’s about the only thing that’s been a compromise.

This isn’t a total rip down, tear out, build up re do. I’m not dumping a ton of time and effort into this one. Been there, done that. I’m trying to save as much money as I can. This isn’t HGTV. Though their help ($$$) would be appreciated.

Amazingly, everything went in uneventful. Usually, my husband chops off the wrong end of something, breaks, cracks or shatters the glass, ends up at Home Depot cussin’ out an employee, pipes thing up wrong, cuts off a finger…..things like that. Nope. It all went well. I took the wallpaper down without a hitch.

How boring.

The video below: These snow geese do this every year and every year I mean to get a video of it. This year I did it (I told you I had no life). That white strip in the field is snow geese, not snow. There had to be thousands just on the ground. The sky shots are a little difficult to see but there had to be  thousands more! They just kept coming and coming! And the sound they are making can be deafening. When they take off it’s like an impending wind gale! Then it gets silent.

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My quest to get a life hasn’t been going too well.

I’m not going to settle for the life I have now. Because, well, that’s why I want to change things.

I sat at the dinning room table early this morning with a cup of tea. It was 6am. I was completely slept out.  Too much sleep isn’t good for you. I had slept the majority of the weekend. Virus? Hormones? Depression? I had NO energy to do anything. And slept I did. I just didn’t lay there and doze, I was out, cold. I just didn’t feel like doing anything.

Finding a job is daunting. Of course, leave it to me to try to find the simplest of clerical jobs in a time when even degreed graduates can’t secure a job in their own field. The emotional ups and downs. The first couple days you’re on a high because you’re so confident that you’re the right person for the job. After about the 4th day and you don’t hear anything,  you’re having second thoughts. After a week, you’re back to square one. When there’s no contact it’s usually pretty safe to assume you didn’t make the cut. And self esteem is back to zero. So the routine continues. It’s a vicious cycle. A mental head game.

I’m not even going to touch on the subject of moving back to New Jersey.

When I  graduated high school, my mom said either get a job or go to college. College was chosen. She told suggested to  me to try to get a business degree. It was general and could cover a broad range of jobs.

After flunking out leaving college 3 1/2 years earlier than she expected, she chucked the business degree route and suggested I get some sort of clerical job and work my way up to secretarial because it was pretty easy to always get some sort of secretarial position anywhere. She noticed early in my life that I was good at the secretary gig. She would set up my father’s manual type writer, give me some spent carbons and typing paper and let me play at dad’s desk. She had the patience of a saint.

No one told her that Bill Gates was in the house.

I aced the secretarial position eventually, but then got pregnant and left the working world for mommy world. Twenty four years later things have changed. I know this. I’ve been watching. And I’ve done my best to keep my skills up to date.  Unfortunately, so has everyone else. Especially the younger generation who are privy to the latest technology and being young means easier learning. It is harder to learn things as you get older. One thing that I’ve always been told:

There’s always someone who is more qualified than you.

I’m also learning and have actually known this for some time that you really need to know someone to obtain a job somewhere. Pays to have connections. I’m not saying this is the case in all situations.  But it certainly helps.

I’m not going to gripe about what should be and shouldn’t be when it comes to hiring. I’ve taken courses in hiring and interviewing techniques. I would suck at it. I’m too easy. In my case, if you can type, answer a phone, can operate a copy machine (knowledge on how to change toner is a plus), use a microwave and know how to at least turn you computer on, you’re hired.  I think resumes are over rated. Fill out an application and let’s get straight to the interview.

Maybe I’m just not meant to work anymore. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit around and do nothing for the rest of my life. I’m not here to wait on my kids. I hate living in this state, this town, this house. So instead of bitching about it, I’m trying to do something about it. It’s not working out the way I hoped. So I believe it’s time to change gears and try a different approach.

Just an afterthought: So many people are out of work, yet there are SO many jobs available out there. Are employers being a little bit biased?  They may not want to take time and money to train someone, but there are jobs out there that able bodied people are willing to learn and do. There’s more to life than McDonalds.

(Rick, if you’re reading this, don’t go there)

When I didn’t hear from this guy after three days since calling him initially, I decided to update and revise my resume and just apply through the Craigslist ad. Maybe that’s what he was waiting for? Couldn’t hurt. I banged out the resume attached it to an email, put a little note and hit “send”.  And waited. Sort of. It was business like usual at my house anyway. I wasn’t going to sit around waiting. If I missed his call, oh well. I’d call him back.

My friend texts me the next day telling me to call “Joe”. I call, tell him who I am and he says he’ll go through the resumes and bet back to me on Monday. It’s Thursday. I guess he wasn’t impressed.

Ok, granted I’m probably not high on the most influential and outstanding potential employees list. I’m sure he found a young chippy with more qualifications than me who he can lust after as she walks around the office in short skirts and low tops.  She can get the job done and be sexy doing it. Kudos to her. I figure since I didn’t really attach a cover letter of any significance, that may have hurt me as well.

The cover letter. Are you kidding me? How many times do we have to reiterate our job skills to potential employers? I’m not a salesman. I don’t have that kind of mentality to “sell myself” on paper.  I’ll give you a small little “heads up” on what is attached or enclosed, like said resume, and you read it and if you like it, great, if not, fine. Nothing I can do about it.  I mean, I have to fill out a job application as it is. You have the resume and a job application. If I make it past those two things, then you’ll call me in and again, we’ll go over the job skills one more time. Now you want a cover letter?  Why do we need the resume then? I’ll just go in and fill out an application. If you like what’s on the application, then call me in. Eliminate the time you spend reading mundane resumes.  Go straight for the app! If you don’t like what’s on the app then carry on. File it under “garbage”.

As I thought about this cover letter shit, I put together one in my head. It would go like this:

Dear Sir or Madame (normally you would put a name in this spot)

Attached is my resume for your consideration in response to the job opening you have listed on Craigslist (or whatever periodical that it’s listed in would go there). I am confident that I have the skills required to officiate this position.

I have mad typing and computer skills. I usually spend 5-8 hours a day perusing the internet, commenting on blogs, writing posts on my own blog and lashing out at spammers that spam my blog. I am diplomatic in my responses. My interpersonal skills are taken to a whole new level on Twitter. I enjoy corresponding with the various Corporate Twitter accounts as well as celebrity accounts in 140 characters or less.

I utilize my research skills with Google and Wikipedia.

My organizational skills are spot on! My house is so organized Martha Stewart would be envious. Though I don’t own a lot of pretty square cloth storage bins, Rubbermaid does the job just as well. I know where everything is and can put my finger on anything I need in any given moment. I give creative storage solutions a whole new meaning.

I have many years experience in the food preparation field. I am well versed in  purchasing, storing and preparing food for at least 4 every day. I can also, host, prepare, serve, and officiate an event for a crowd of over 20. Again, my organizational skills are utilized in this area. I can throw one hell of a party!

Though I haven’t done accounts payable for awhile in the corporate setting, I’m still very versed in that field. I prepare weekly and monthly payments for to a multitude of corporations such as PP&L, Verizon, Bank of America and Service Electric Cable & TV.

I am also versed in the cash handling aspects of banking. I do weekly withdrawals and deposits as well as cash payments to various local establishments in my area. I am a well known client to Wegmans and Walmart. Please feel free to contact them for any account references you may have as far as accounts receivable as concerned. I’m sure you will find my accounts payable record is spotless!

Recently I have become familiar with a couple different personality disorders with people I associate with and have learned to deal and cope with these aliments.

Thank you for reviewing my resume. I look forward to an interview with you to discuss my qualifications to this fine position.

I’d hire me. How can you refuse a job to someone who can type, organize, pay, spend, prepare and cope….. like a boss?

(Update: Today, the guy did end up asking my friend what my name was so he could find my resume. I still have yet to hear from him. Meanwhile, I have a treadmill at the YMCA that needs to be trod upon.)

No, not really, I noticed that I’ve been getting more than my fair share on Twitter lately.

So I usually either just leave them alone or block them. For shits and giggles I’ve even reported them. Because I can.

Take note douche bag Twitter spammers. It’s your turn.

• If you want someone to follow you, have at least 10 tweets in your repertoire.  And make them productive and up to date.  If you don’t have any tweets (or even a profile or bio), I’m not following you. Like WTF? If you don’t have ANY tweets and you’re NOT following anyone, why are you even on Twitter? No, I’m not clicking your link to your site.
• Have a profile pic. The default Twitter “egg” is a sign that you’re a complete dork. Nope, won’t follow you either…no tweets….no profile pic…no follow.
• Don’t Tweet a bunch of us with “Free Gift Card”.  That’s definitely either a virus waiting to happen or spam in my email. I don’t care if you’re giving away a free trip to Barbados. It. isn’t. going. to. work. I usually will block you. Unless you want to give me a new computer when the old one crashes from your crap website.
• Again with the sex, if your bot is programmed to follow me because I used the word “fuck” in a tweet, that doesn’t mean I’m into doing the same thing you like to do. I don’t have a website that promotes said tweet. And I’m not going to yours to find out about said tweet. If you want to promote your whorey self, find the appropriate accounts yourself. Or are your hands too busy to be bothered? That will get you a “blocked”.
• If you follow me, that’s great. If you want me to follow you, don’t expect me to “request” a follow. If you lock or “protect” your tweets, then I obviously don’t want to follow you. You’re hiding from someone. How do you know I’m not following that someone you’re hiding from? No, I’m not requesting a follow. It’s Twitter, not a secret club.
• Again, program your bot to at least tell YOU to tweet more often. I’m not following someone who’s last tweet was Sept. 2011.  Or May 2009. Nope.
• *Douche Bag Alert* Don’t think you’re being really cute by setting up two accounts. I just recognized this. The last three tweets on the accounts are the same.  And the names are totally unpronounceable. And there is NO profile pic…default “egg”, no bio. Didn’t work. Don’t EVEN bother tweeting. No one cares and no one is even reading them. Blockaroony!
• I tweeted that I finally got my Angry Birds app to work after about an hour of fun on the iTunes site. What did I come to on Twitter the next day? Someone who’s flogging another app game. They have other tweets but they have a bot that seeks out “Angry Birds” and posts the new app announcement to those who posted. Ah, very clever.  I give props. That’s not too shabby. But I’m not following.
• Don’t use accounts in vain.  I don’t know what prompts your bot, but don’t respond to a tweet of mine with just a link.  I’m not that stupid. Dumb, but not stupid. That’s a definite “block”.
• If you want your bot to follow people, make sure they understand the difference between English and Swahili. Why you want to follow me when your tweets are in a complete unknown language is obvious: Your bot sucks at language arts. Therefore, I will not and probably never will follow you. Obviously.
• I don’t live in an earthquake pron area. Little tremors do occur, but nothing devastating. Train your bot to pick out those that live in or on certain fault line destinations.  Why would I want to sign up on your mailing list for the most current earthquakes world wide? Maybe someone in California?  Japan? Hmmm, YA THINK? Keep it relevant please.
• If all you do is tweet links, forget it. My ADD kicks in. I like to see some real tweets from the brain. Anyone can tweet links.
• Not for nuttin’ but you look pretty lame when you tweet a bunch of accounts. Just accounts. A bunch of @s. Why? Is it you or a bot? Dumb, really, really dumb! That’s a big “BLOCK” 10-4.

So heed this advice you obnoxious and incorrigible Twitter spammers! NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR SHIT! Being the irritant that you are, I do take pleasure in either blocking you or reporting you. Because I can.

But there were several that needed some attention. So, here are some tips on properly spamming blog posts:

• Check your spelling. That’s why Microsoft paid someone the big money to program that shit into the Windows programs. Yes, you will get a snarky reply from me if your spelling sucks.
• Just spam one post. You don’t need to spam 3 or 4 with the same comment. Dead give away that you’re a doofus.
• Change it up alittle. If you insist on spamming 3 or 4 posts, don’t use the same comment. Reword it. It gets redundant reading the same comment over and over. That’ll get you a delete. And we don’t want that now do we? Claiming that you and a friend are doing “post graduate” research and found my blog post interesting and just what you need while spamming my “Wash With Care” post is hilarious. That’s a good way to “change it up”.
• You don’t always have to be sappy sweet. One dude called my blog “a masterpiece”! THAT’S alittle overkill. The constant “Loved this post” or “you’re so talented” and the “your writing is superb” is really nauseating.
• When commenting, make sure your comment is relevant to the post that you’re spamming. “Just desire to say your article is as astounding”. You mean my cat and how he tries to catch his tail in the bathroom? Really? What kind of moron are you? “The sketch is attractive”-I didn’t draw a single thing on my “Made In China” post. Look again.
• An occasional negative comment is great! I love lashing out on those types! Bring it on!
• At least proof read. Nothing like spamming and not having a single sentence make sense. Learn the English language. “I liked up to you’ll obtain carried out right here.”-Are you kidding me?
• Don’t spam sex sites on women’s blogs. Make sure it’s a guy’s blog. I don’t know any women who will click on your site to see your titties. Ok, I may know one.
• If  you’re THAT impressed with my layout and blog set up, don’t ask me how I did it or what site I used. You’re on WordPress. Ask WordPress. It’s not hard.
• Use words like “rattling instructive”. It’ll definitely get a smart ass reply out of me.
• Outrageous names like “Dudley” and “Reginald” make me giggle inside.
• If you’re going to use the same comment through out the blog, at least change any names to fit the gender you’re using. “We would like to thank you yet again for the stunning ideas you offered Jeremy when preparing her post-graduate research”-Did Jeremy have a sex change during her post graduate research by some chance? And did the picture of my birdhouse help with the research? What were you researching? Migration homes of the Whooping Crane?
• And keep on viewing the blog! Brings the view stat up and the comment numbers up! Badda Boom! Win!

I find all these comments just hysterical. I want to meet the ass bags that come up with these! Even if it’s a bot, SOMEONE had to program it.

Does this child look like a hell raiser to you?

I was special.

Really special.

Like not-right-in-the-head special.

Though, I don’t remember too many of these incidents, Mom insisted that she would question my intelligence and whether I’d make it through life in one piece.

I had a thing for Band Aids. All my dolls had Band Aids. All my stuffed animals had Band Aids. My Barbies had Band Aids (you know, the real little ones that don’t fit around or on anything that small?). Mom thought, “Oh, how sweet, she’s probably going to be a nurse someday.” (that would have been my moms proudest moment). That or a decathlon runner. At the age of about 3, I was told that while waiting for my bath to fill I would run back and forth with the metal Band Aid box (remember those!?) from the bathroom down one end of the hallway to my parents room on the other end (it wasn’t a long hallway). Back and forth I’d run (I told you I was a hyper active little shit). Well, on my steady gallop back to the bathroom I tripped on the marble threshold, fell, and the box of Band Aids went flying….into the bathtub. Mom told me it took about 2 days for all those Band Aids to dry out.

I honestly think she knew what was going to happen. She just wanted to see if she was right.

Do you remember nose drops? This was before Afrin and any of those other nasal sprays. It was a little brown glass bottle with a dropper top. You’d plunk a couple drops in your nostril and voila! instant rush of air to the brain!  Again, Mom had high hopes for me. “Oh, she’s going to be chemist!”. Ummm, not so much. She told me about the time she opened my curtain in my room and found one of these nose drop bottles. Inside, there was a broken up oral (maybe butt…she always took my temp from “the other side”) thermometer stirred in with the nose drops. Yeah, it freaked her out alittle because of the fact that I took a thermometer and broke it into little pieces.

Like I said, I have NO recollection of doing any of these things.

This last one may account for the reasons I did such inane things.  Peter Pan was a big deal in the 60′s. I guess I was a very impressionable child at the age of 5. I didn’ t understand harnesses and wires and stage theatrics. Wow. How can Mary Martin fly!? If Mary could do it, why couldn’t I? So, one day while mom was doing her court reporting (she was one of the first Work At Home Moms) in her little office, I decided to do a swan dive off our piano bench. I still have the scar on the top of my head. She told me I was a very good girl in the ER.

I remember flying a kite in the field across the street from my house one day. There were a couple of us flying kites. Well, they all went home to watch “The Monkees”. They reeled in their kites, and left. OMG, I couldn’t miss “The Monkees”! I didn’t realize how high my kite was. I mean it was UP THERE! I kept reelin’ the string in and it didn’t seem to be coming any closer to me. I started to panic. I thought “Should I just let it go?”. No, I couldn’t do that. Luckily, a person who lived in my  neighborhood saw me, probably knew what a spaz I was, saw the look of total despair on my face, stopped and helped me get my kite down.  I do remember thanking him repeatedly.

My brother wasn’t a gem either.

I remember him telling me once while fixing his Corgie James Bond car he had James in lips to free up his hands (why he didn’t just put him on the ground is beyond me) and “GULP”…..down  and out went James. We still have the car minus 007.

My brother was alittle chunky. Ok…he was fat. My father made it possible for us to have some swings at the house at the lake. Two trees just happened to be perfect distance apart. So up went two 2X4′s bolted to the trees, hung some chain, put two seats in and we were out of their hair for at least 1/2 hour.  My brother liked swinging high (yeah, you know where this is going, right?), I tried but I didn’t have as much strength to get up there like he did. Higher and higher he went, while I pumped with everything I had to beat him. All of a sudden I feel my side of the set jerk to the right, the 2×4′s nearly hitting me and my brother is now Peter Pan. Minus the harness. Face plant city, baby! You could hear the crying from across the lake. I chuckled I think. Or am I chuckling now?

Speaking of chuckling….my brother and I DID-NOT get along. Especially as we got older. He was always the dominating one at the dinner table. Mom and dad always laughed at his comments or remarks at me. During one of his comic sessions during dinner which consisted of some sort of meat, starch and vegetable which was a salad at this time (mom always made sure we had a balanced meal), numb nuts reaches for the Caesar Salad Dressing, Pfeiffer brand if I recall, starts shaking it WITH THE TOP TOWARDS HIM and two shakes into it “SPLAAAAAAAT”….the top flys off and he’s now covered in Caesar Salad Dressing! Who’s got the last laugh now you schmuck!?

Ah, childhood memories. Some of which I would rather forget, but I do get a chuckle out of occasionally. There have also been some dumb things I did as a grown up, too, but we won’t go there!

Would love to hear some of the anecdotes from your childhood so I won’t I think I was the only looney bird as a kid. Misery loves company!

I like Dean Martin and “Baby It’s Cold Outside”…..without Martina McBride singing along. Just because Natale Cole did it with her father doesn’t mean you can do a better job. Stick to country Martina. Michael Buble has a fantastic voice. He’s got a very ‘broadway’ sound. Was he in the Drama Club in high school? I bet he was. But I don’t care for his version of this song either. Rod Stewart and Dolly Parton’s take is about all I’ll tolerate as far as updating this popular classic. Dolly makes you picture the whole scenario in your head as she “talks” about needing to leave but surrenders to Rod’s advances.

Burl Ives is a Christmas icon. Funny that he was Jewish. “Holly Jolly Christmas” from Rudolph is classic! As is “Frosty The Snowman” by Jimmy Durante. I like them!

Bing Crosby “White Christmas” is epic. His whole album is.

My 24 year old also likes the older versions as well. It must be that Christmas as gotten SO commercialized that these older versions are the only elements that keep the holiday pure.

I saw a neon pink Christmas tree at Hobby Lobby in October. NEON PINK! Are you kidding me? That’s really keeping things in the Christmas spirit. I’m surprised it wasn’t aluminum.

I’ve heard SO many versions of “Let It Snow” I’ve decided I don’t like it anymore.

You can not have “Sleigh Ride” without the horses neighing at the end as in Arthur Fiedlers version. Trumpet interpretations aren’t the same.

Trans Siberian Orchestra has some awesome musicians and players. But an electric guitar in “Carol of the Bells”? Sort of kills the meaning. Bells, guitar, bells, guitar…..Mmm, no, not working.  They did do “Canon in D” wonderfully! I like Manheim Steamroller. They’ve got some alternative twists on some classics that I actually don’t mind. “Auld Lang Syne” is done beautifully.

I heard a rendition of “Silent Night” today that wasn’t very pretty. The performer hung onto a note at the end for….no joke….10 seconds. That may not seem like a long time, but for a song, it is. Butchered it, totally butchered it.

Bruce Springsteen murdered “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” with his live version.

You have every performers own Christmas and holiday song. Elton John, Paul McCartney, John Lennon, The Waitresses (love their song “Christmas Wrapping”, “I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas (seems to be a big hit in my area for reason-I can’t stand it!), Dominic the Christmas Donkey (another hit in my area-local radio station can’t seem to play it enough *gag*), and others are some what tolerable. Faith Hill has one called “A Child Changes Everything” which is very pretty. Funny, I haven’t heard it yet this year. “All I Want For Christmas Is You” is nice if it’s not sung in my face by Mariah Carey.

There are songs I don’t even hear on the radio. “I Saw Three Ships” and “Away In The Manger” are ones I only have on vinyl.

If you’re going to update, do it right.

Merry Christmas friends! Hope the season brings warmth and happiness! And no heartburn.

These statements will never be uttered from my lips. EVER!

“Just leave it. The maid will clean it in the morning.”

Yeah, me, that’s who. But as for a REAL maid, even the Merry ones, I don’t ever see it. I wouldn’t want someone coming in and seeing how dirty my house REEEALLY is. They’d probably want a raise or over time due to the extra effort needed.

“The Merc (Mercedes Benz) needs to be inspected.”

As much as I long to own one of these German feats of engineering brilliance, it ain’t ever happenin’.

“Holy Shit, I won the lottery.”

Like they say, you can’t win if you don’t play. I can’t see dumping money into something I have a 1 in 50,000 chance in winning. So much for the maid.

“What time do we have to be at the red carpet premier?”

Only destined for those in the entertainment arena.  Loppos, like me, will always be the ones standing behind the ropes.

“Limos here!”

This will be muttered AFTER the statement above.

“Damn, I left my Rolex on the yacht!”

I don’t even wear a watch. Or know anyone personally who even owns a yacht.  The only thing that would come close would be possibly leaving my cell phone in the canoe.

“Jeremy Clarkson’s. We’re dating. Why do you ask?”

I would LOVE to say this to some nosy ass paparazzi whoring SOB who’s taking pictures as I’m getting out of his Lamborghini and wants to know who’s car it is.

“When are we leaving on the Lear for Barbados?”

I’ve never even been on an airplane. A Lear jet? Pfffffffft…..HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…………….I can’t even make it to Florida…..I’m going to go to Barbados?

“Do you have the keys to the Villa?”

I sometimes don’t have the keys to my house. Are there even keys to Villas? And who would I be even asking?

“Oh, that’s an old injury I got when I was skiing in San Mortiz.”

The last time I went skiing was in high school.  The only injury I got was a bruised leg at Camel Back.  I don’t even know where San Moritz is *googling  now*. Oh, Switzerland…..never mind.

“He went to JAREDS!”

No he didn’t. He didn’t go to Kay, Zales or Littmans either.

“I’m going to the Oscars with George Clooney, didn’t you know that?”

Well, DUH!

“I LOVE me some brussel sprouts!”

I HATE me some brussel sprouts!

“I can’t make lunch, I have to go have one of my Vajazzles replaced.”

I will admit I’d have this done over tattooing. But not anytime soon. I’d just be as happy with the self stick shit you can get at Walmart for blinging out your cell phone. Sort of like “temporary vajazzling” if you want to call it that.

“We’re going sky diving on vacation next year.”

Again, the plane issue with me. But once I’m IN the airplane whenever that happens, I will not be EXITING the airplane while 10,000+ feet in the air. I will be the one bidding you happy air trails while I sit strapped to a seat by an 8 point harness.