Why does this BIG BUTT keep following me??

Okay - this is a solicitation that I am sending out to my "friends in fitness futility" regarding a diet issue. Here's the deal - I am a Dr. Pepper junky. I must have my fix every day - it has been through TREMENDOUS strength of will that I have cut myself down to only one every morning. This being down from a four or five fix a day habit.

I have found through personal experimentation (for some reason Hubby refuses to let me do diet experiments on him) that I am more successful at losing weight when I count calories and keep it at about 1,000 or less per day. The no carb thing doesn't work for me. I should be honest and point out that I have not actually tried the no carb thing but I'm a pasta and bread girl so, basically, it ain't gonna happen.

The question I would like to pose to you is this: Diet Dr. Pepper has 0 calories but it still has carbonated water in it. Is the carbonation in sodas also the enemy or just the calories? I have changed my morning DP to Diet DP so can I add another Diet DP to my day?

My happiness truly hinges on the outcome here.

Setting the Record Straight

One of my beloved friends who reads my blog BUT DOES NOT BOTHER HERSELF TO COMMENT ON ANY OF MY POSTS (not mentioning any names Annette Trent) e-mailed me the other day and pointed out that I am quite the liar seeing as how I am a rabid, er, avid fan of ABC's "The Bachelor" series.

Okay, first off, if you don't comment on my posts then you gets NO INPUT. So there.

But since she brought up an item for discussion, I will graciously provide an explanation.

So far as I can tell, "The Bachelor" is NOT a reality show. Because do YOU know anyone who has met under the orchestrated circumstances as put forth by the Bachelor producers? Handsome, rich, educated, cultured, buff single but yet not gay bachelors and 25 attractive, intelligent, accomplished, no kids single women who all meet in candlelit mansions and travel in private jets to exotic locales. The premise is that the Bachelor is not desperate but is just having a hard meeting women of "quality" and the women are all equally lovely and mentally stable (of course, the token psycho is thrown in for added ratings) it is just hard for them to meet deserving men in their demanding professional lives.

Let's not kid ourselves here - this show is in it's ninth (?) season and they have yet to accomplish a successful pairing that has lasted longer than, what, 6 weeks?

Wait . . . that does sound kinda real, don't it?

. . . and of course it will ALL be so Vera Affordable!

Apparently Vera Wang ain't lettin' Isaac Mizrahi and Nicole Miller hog all the po-ass working class wanna-bee fashionista customers. She's gonna get HERS!!

THEY MUST BE PSYCHIC!!!!

Thanks for the link, Lyndy!!

MY MONSTER NAME

Cursed Beast You Feast On: Fingernails You Lurk Around In: Public Restrooms You Especially Like to Torment: Lawyers

What's" Your Monster Name?

Just another reason why you WON'T see me at this movie!!

Apparently my skills of discerning good movies from bad is right on target 'cause I've been saying from the first preview that I will not be going to this one!! See . . . I ain't no fool!

This SUUUCCKKKSSS!

Nobody's reading my blog.

CB is paranoid that there might be people reading her blog that she really doesn't want reading it; Ali wants everybody to read her blog cuz you never know where the next producer might pop up; and others let you post on their blogs but don't bother to do the courteous thing and check yours out in kind. I can't even get a lookee-loo from anybody much less a flippin comment post!

C'mon people, throw me a dad-gum bone!!

(is the whiney guilt angle working yet? No? pffft!)

Now THAT'S Good TV!!

I am just going to have to give up the pretense that I am so totally offended by reality television and that anyone who watches it is a moron. I stayed astride my high horse whilst everyone else jumped on the "Survivor" and "Fear Factor" bandwagons. I arrogantly tipped my nose and sniffed condescendingly at those who would wallow away their time watching "Big Brother" and/or "Flavor of Love." Although I love my sister-in-law immensely I am completely confused as to her obsession with the cartoonish crew on "Dog the Bounty Hunter" - a bounty hunter that is only able to carry a can of mace (not even police supply grade pepper spray) ain't no REAL bounty hunter, if you asks me.

The reality show that toppled me from my holier-than-thou perch is none other than "GENE SIMMONS' FAMILY JEWELS." If you haven't caught it yet, you really should try even if you have to TiVo it.

Maybe my devotion comes from being a KISS kid of the 70s. Who can forget my incessant whining and fit pitching to go to a KISS concert when I was in 4th grade? I mean, what parent wouldn't trust their 10 year old to experience a rock concert in 1976, era of the Doobie Brothers and Cheech & Chong (if you get my drift, man)?

GENE SIMMONS' FAMILY JEWELS is a great show that allows us to see that even rock icons have the same issues we do: work obligations, bills to pay, kids to raise, spouses to keep happy. So far, my favorite episode was the one where Gene had to be Shannon (Tweed, his significant other) for one day doing all her housework as a birthday present to her. (Alas, I'm not buying that one of rock's biggest stars doesn't have a maid but the show needs its material.) Seeing Gene Simmons toting a vacuum cleaner from room to room and cleaning toilets and dropping dirty laundry down a laundry chute (what the f---??) that he didn't even know was in his house . . . . priceless. And his kids - they're merciless with ole Dad. You'd think they remembered their dad being a circus clown rather than one of the world's biggest rockers for three decades. (Says daughter Sophie: "Dad, you're just gonna have to get used to the fact that not everybody in the world knows who you are. Get over yourself.") Ahh kids - gotta love 'em and their ego-obliterating honesty.

Mondays on A&E at 9pm Central.

I'm BACK!

I could go into all the gorey details of my long period of absentia . . . but I won't bore you. I do have one word for it - "stepkid." Okay, maybe technically that's two.

We did have little "dramma" earlier this week though that I can share. Let's re-visit the "car salesman" scenario. Hubby decided that he needs a personal vehicle of his own (he currently drives a county vehicle that prohibits any type of personal errands, projects, etc. - - you know how stingy we taxpayers can get) so he surfs the internet car lots and finds a few possibles. Between the two of us we send offers on multiple Jeeps that we think might be fun. Keep in mind we are looking at used Jeeps that are older = lower priced. On one such possible, I sent the dealer an offer for $10,000. It was a 2001 model priced at $11,500. We kept looking while we waited for the responses to come in.

Two days later (in the interim Hubby decided on a more practical truck) the 2001 Jeep dealer sends me an email telling me that it had sold but he had a 2005 Jeep he could let me have for $20,995.

What the f - - - - - - - ???????

Okay, where in my request did he interpret that I would be interested in a newer model that costs TWICE what I was offering to pay??!!!!???! If he had been within my reach, I would slap him upside his moronic empty head.


Hello? Yes, I'm looking for a red sweater. Do you have any?
No, but we do have a purple tank top - will that work for ya???