OK, we all know that I watch a crapload of "reality" TV. Literally.
I've been watching "Million Dollar Shoppers" on the Lifetime channel. It's follows 5 professional shoppers who go out and look for clothes for women who are shamefully wealthy. There's Barbet, the team of Tayler & Gregg, Derek, and the one I can't remember. I won't comment on her, because she's not as annoying as the others. They earn a 10% commission on the amount that their client spends, so it's not like it's a hugely profitable career.
1. Barbet. She shops as much for herself as for her clients. She is extremely annoying when she throws her bony, yet floppy, arms into the air, Rocky-style. Can I suggest a little Retin-A? OH MY GOSH....she was just driving with her knees while she plucked her eyebrows in the car. What an idiot.
2. Tayler of Tayler & Gregg. Not too crazy and annoying, but she really needs to do something with her hair. The topknot is getting boring.
3. Derek. He seems to be your stereotypical gay fashionista who occasionally likes to try the dresses on himself and strut his stuff. No problem. He's kinda cute. And I like his Southern accent.
4. Ok...I've saved the best (?) for last, and he's really my whole reason for this blog entry. Gregg. Now, I have no problem with his cross-dressing and his penchant for high heels, if that's his thing. What I DO have a problem with, is his grooming. OMG, he looks like a homeless person. I'm not a big fan of the scruffy beard. I mean, make up your mind, man...either have a beard, or don't. This guy's 'scruffy' goes all the way down past his Adam's apple. TRIM IT UP! His hair always looks dirty, the bleach job is bad, and it either hangs in strings or he's got it in a messy ponytail. His hair issues don't end there.The worst thing is, his hairy arms and hands. My gosh, man, if you're going to cross dress, do something about that hairiness! After looking at his arms, I can only imagine how gnarly his feet are in his high heeled peep toes. If I intended to spend a couple of thousand bucks on a dress, there's no WAY I'd let this trashy looking guy pick it out.
I've gone to every page and website I can find for this show, and I find NO place to make any comments. Maybe they did that for a reason.
There is no rhyme or reason to this, just whatever happens to cross my mind.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
How Much Is That Doggie.....EVERYWHERE???
Is it just me, or are there dogs everywhere? At the Farmer's Market, the grocery store, the drug store. The only place I haven't seen somebody carrying a dog around is at the doctor's office. You never know when you look into a stroller if it's going to contain a baby or a chihuahua.
Now, I understand the need for service animals, and I think it's a wonderful thing when a dog can be trained to help a person do things that they can't do themselves.
In case you didn't know, a service animal is not required to wear a distinguishing vest or harness or anything else that identifies them as a service animal, nor is the owner required to carry any paperwork about it.
BUT, the person must have a true disability, as defined by the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).
The ADA defines a disability as: "a mental or physical condition which substantially limits a major life activity such as caring for one's self, performing manual tasks, walking, seeing, hearing, speaking, breathing, learning and working."
To be a service animal, it must be trained to 'perform tasks directly related to the person's disability". "Comforting" or "Giving love" or "A reason to get up in the morning" while beneficial, does not a service dog make.
That being said, the ones I have a problem with can probably be called "accessory dogs"...I think Paris Hilton (remember her?) might have started that trend.
There is a woman here at Limpdik Park who has 2 or 3 Chihuahuas that she pushes around in a really fancy baby stroller. They go all over the neighborhood, all day long. (She also wears cotton nightgowns in public, and shaves her head *_* ) Every time I see those dogs, I swear they have a look of desperation on their little ankle-nipping faces. (Help me! Help me!)
There was another loony tune who has since moved away, who had a 3-legged "service" dog, who was able to predict when she was going to have an attack of some sort. By her own accounts, her "attacks" were controlled by medicine, so the dog was retired. But she still hauled him around in his baby stroller, bringing him to pot-luck dinners, feeding him at the table, stirring dishes with her doggy hands, giving him kisses, both with tongue. (My apologies to those with sensitive stomachs)
I guess my rant is....unless the dog is doing something that is necessary to your health or ability to perform normal tasks....LEAVE THE DAMN DOG AT HOME!!
(Please send your cards and letters to Paris Hilton, Hollywood CA 90210)
Now, I understand the need for service animals, and I think it's a wonderful thing when a dog can be trained to help a person do things that they can't do themselves.
In case you didn't know, a service animal is not required to wear a distinguishing vest or harness or anything else that identifies them as a service animal, nor is the owner required to carry any paperwork about it.
BUT, the person must have a true disability, as defined by the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).
The ADA defines a disability as: "a mental or physical condition which substantially limits a major life activity such as caring for one's self, performing manual tasks, walking, seeing, hearing, speaking, breathing, learning and working."
To be a service animal, it must be trained to 'perform tasks directly related to the person's disability". "Comforting" or "Giving love" or "A reason to get up in the morning" while beneficial, does not a service dog make.
That being said, the ones I have a problem with can probably be called "accessory dogs"...I think Paris Hilton (remember her?) might have started that trend.
There is a woman here at Limpdik Park who has 2 or 3 Chihuahuas that she pushes around in a really fancy baby stroller. They go all over the neighborhood, all day long. (She also wears cotton nightgowns in public, and shaves her head *_* ) Every time I see those dogs, I swear they have a look of desperation on their little ankle-nipping faces. (Help me! Help me!)
There was another loony tune who has since moved away, who had a 3-legged "service" dog, who was able to predict when she was going to have an attack of some sort. By her own accounts, her "attacks" were controlled by medicine, so the dog was retired. But she still hauled him around in his baby stroller, bringing him to pot-luck dinners, feeding him at the table, stirring dishes with her doggy hands, giving him kisses, both with tongue. (My apologies to those with sensitive stomachs)
I guess my rant is....unless the dog is doing something that is necessary to your health or ability to perform normal tasks....LEAVE THE DAMN DOG AT HOME!!
(Please send your cards and letters to Paris Hilton, Hollywood CA 90210)
Sunday, June 9, 2013
More About TV Commercials
Before I start on the next subject on my mind, I want to correct something from my previous post, "Baffled with a Capital B".
It was not the Sonny Bear on his way to the bathroom who was told by his mother to use less Charmin. It was the Papa Bear, who was shown sitting on the toilet having some kind of intimate moment with the oh so soft Charmin, who was instructed by Mama Bear to use less and leave some for the rest of the family, so that they too can "Enjoy the Go".
The hardest thing to admit, loyal readers, is this....I bought some Charmin Ultra Soft and Mama Bear was right. *_*
******************************************************************************
Now on to other things....other TV commercials. There are now TV commercials for products that weren't even mentioned in mixed company, much less aired for every adolescent to see.
Let's start with the KY commercials. There is a product called Yours + Mine. It seems to be some sort of lubricant that " provides an invigorating warming sensation for him. A thrilling tingling sensation for her. Put the two together for a totally new, unexpected experience." Heck, I'd be afraid it would be like all the other science experiments I tried in school. Mix it up and BOOM!!!!
Then there are the Trojan commercials. I found out what a Trojan WAS when I was about 8, and I'd be the helpful little darling that I was, and make up Mommy and Daddy's bed for them and find wrappers under the pillow.
They put out a commercial about a bridal shower. All the friends gave the bride the same gift....the vibrating Triphoria...guaranteed to "blow your hair back"....Then all the women were shown with their hair totally blown back, like they'd been riding in a convertible all day. I say if this bride needs that little trinket so early in her marriage, she's got some problems. I never saw a new husband so happy to have 3 vibrators. "SWEET!!!"
Oh yes...I almost forgot the commercials for "feminine products" We've had Aunt Flo, bringing our actress her monthly "gift". We've had this big red dot bouncing around all over the screen. But the capper is the one for the shaver. Did you know there were so many shapes that "bushes" could be made into. Neat little circles, blocks, vee's...there's even a landing strip!! Heck, Schick is a regular Edward Scissorhands!!
Have I become a prude in my golden years? I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe I just think that some things should still be private.
It was not the Sonny Bear on his way to the bathroom who was told by his mother to use less Charmin. It was the Papa Bear, who was shown sitting on the toilet having some kind of intimate moment with the oh so soft Charmin, who was instructed by Mama Bear to use less and leave some for the rest of the family, so that they too can "Enjoy the Go".
The hardest thing to admit, loyal readers, is this....I bought some Charmin Ultra Soft and Mama Bear was right. *_*
******************************************************************************
Now on to other things....other TV commercials. There are now TV commercials for products that weren't even mentioned in mixed company, much less aired for every adolescent to see.
Let's start with the KY commercials. There is a product called Yours + Mine. It seems to be some sort of lubricant that " provides an invigorating warming sensation for him. A thrilling tingling sensation for her. Put the two together for a totally new, unexpected experience." Heck, I'd be afraid it would be like all the other science experiments I tried in school. Mix it up and BOOM!!!!
Then there are the Trojan commercials. I found out what a Trojan WAS when I was about 8, and I'd be the helpful little darling that I was, and make up Mommy and Daddy's bed for them and find wrappers under the pillow.
They put out a commercial about a bridal shower. All the friends gave the bride the same gift....the vibrating Triphoria...guaranteed to "blow your hair back"....Then all the women were shown with their hair totally blown back, like they'd been riding in a convertible all day. I say if this bride needs that little trinket so early in her marriage, she's got some problems. I never saw a new husband so happy to have 3 vibrators. "SWEET!!!"
Now, here's the one that set me off on this little semi-rant of mine. Durex has put out a commercial that, to me, is so explicit that I wanna hide my eyes. If I had a young daughter, sitting in the den, watching tv with her teenaged Lothario, I would hit the remote so fast, their heads would spin. Durex lets us know that when you 'trust someone...it opens up new worlds of exploration.'...Now when we're talking about condoms and lubricants, I don't think I wanna know about where these folks are exploring, do you?? *_*
Oh yes...I almost forgot the commercials for "feminine products" We've had Aunt Flo, bringing our actress her monthly "gift". We've had this big red dot bouncing around all over the screen. But the capper is the one for the shaver. Did you know there were so many shapes that "bushes" could be made into. Neat little circles, blocks, vee's...there's even a landing strip!! Heck, Schick is a regular Edward Scissorhands!!
Have I become a prude in my golden years? I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe I just think that some things should still be private.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Monday, February 11, 2013
Here Comes Mama June
You know Mama June....she's Honey Boo Boo's mom. And I like her.
I can't tell you how many Facebook posts I've read that say, "Oh she's just horrid, and the show sucks, and they all are disgusting. I've never watched the show....."
If you've never watched the show, how do you know it's disgusting?
I think too many people are judging June and her family on their looks. Yes she's fat. She knows that. She also says she's sexy. Which tell me that she has a good self-image. By the way, did you know she's lost 102 pounds since the show started? Her daughters also know their own physical imperfections, but they don't seem to hate themselves at all. How dare they???
Her family farts a lot and laughs at it. Yeah, so what? It's called being silly with your kids. The kids will outgrow the fart-a-thons, but they will remember their mom being silly with them.
Some people say she's doing the show for the money. Yep, she probably is. But did you know that the $15,000 - $20,000 per episode that they are paid goes directly into trust funds for her children and grandchild?
Did you know that she hasn't bought a new house, even though her old wooden house sits just yards from a railroad track. She likes her house. She has done a few repairs, but I don't think that's a bad use for some of the money. Which, by the way, is pretty low by industry standards.
Did she buy a new car? Yep, she sure did. It was a 2005 used car. She needed a bigger one. Sports cars and Cadillacs just aren't her style.
Did you know that she and her family organize several fund raisers for charity throughout the year?
Did you know that she funds the pageants that Alana attends by being a coupon queen and using the savings? She also feeds her family of 7 on $80 a week by using coupons, playing Bingo, cooking wild game, and using child support from her older children's fathers. Bet you wish you could see a grocery bill that low.
Did you know that Mike (Sugar Bear) goes to work every day and is still considered the bread winner of the family?
I don't see any dysfunction here. Yes, they are loud. Yes, they are mostly fat. Yes, they laugh at things that a lot of people don't laugh at. But they love each other, they love their community, and I like them.
I can't tell you how many Facebook posts I've read that say, "Oh she's just horrid, and the show sucks, and they all are disgusting. I've never watched the show....."
If you've never watched the show, how do you know it's disgusting?
I think too many people are judging June and her family on their looks. Yes she's fat. She knows that. She also says she's sexy. Which tell me that she has a good self-image. By the way, did you know she's lost 102 pounds since the show started? Her daughters also know their own physical imperfections, but they don't seem to hate themselves at all. How dare they???
Her family farts a lot and laughs at it. Yeah, so what? It's called being silly with your kids. The kids will outgrow the fart-a-thons, but they will remember their mom being silly with them.
Some people say she's doing the show for the money. Yep, she probably is. But did you know that the $15,000 - $20,000 per episode that they are paid goes directly into trust funds for her children and grandchild?
Did you know that she hasn't bought a new house, even though her old wooden house sits just yards from a railroad track. She likes her house. She has done a few repairs, but I don't think that's a bad use for some of the money. Which, by the way, is pretty low by industry standards.
Did she buy a new car? Yep, she sure did. It was a 2005 used car. She needed a bigger one. Sports cars and Cadillacs just aren't her style.
Did you know that she and her family organize several fund raisers for charity throughout the year?
Did you know that she funds the pageants that Alana attends by being a coupon queen and using the savings? She also feeds her family of 7 on $80 a week by using coupons, playing Bingo, cooking wild game, and using child support from her older children's fathers. Bet you wish you could see a grocery bill that low.
Did you know that Mike (Sugar Bear) goes to work every day and is still considered the bread winner of the family?
I don't see any dysfunction here. Yes, they are loud. Yes, they are mostly fat. Yes, they laugh at things that a lot of people don't laugh at. But they love each other, they love their community, and I like them.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
What a Week *_*
What a week I've had, so far.
This week started with a Monday, as most of them are inclined to do. Nothing special about this one, I just mention it because it started the week. I played a couple of hours of Brown Bag Bingo with the gang here at Limpdik Park, won twice.
Then Tuesday came along. Nothing special about this one either (do I detect a pattern in my life??). That is until about 6pm.
My sort-of niece started a book club on Facebook. The first book to be read is called The Heretic's Daughter. (A must-read, especially if you liked the movie The Crucible. It has to do with the Salem witch trials and is written by a direct descendant). It also has an interesting book jacket with a picture of a woman's face wrapping around from front to spine.
I had told my niece that I wouldn't be able to participate in the discussion, because I couldn't afford the book, and publishers are printing books in such small print the past few years, that I find it almost impossible to indulge my love of reading. She assured me that I was still welcome in the club.
Anyway, I was down in the clubhouse here at Limpdik Park, waiting for Bible study to begin. (We meet every Tuesday at 6:30pm around the pool table.Long story.) We have a teeny tiny library/computer room here, where residents can donate books, and you can take them and return them or keep them, doesn't matter. I decided to roll in there and take a look at the new bookcase.
While there, I started looking at the titles of some of the books on another shelf. The print was, again, too small to read...but then....there it was....staring out at me from the spine of one book on the bottom shelf....AN EYEBALL!
Naawwww.....it couldn't be......YES!!! It was!!!...Not only was it The Heretic's Daughter, but it was LARGE PRINT!!!
It was like it was put there just for me. I'm still doing a happy dance about it.
**************************************************************
Then came Wednesday. I got up early and got ready to take the senior bus with the little old ladies to the grocery store. I'd rather eat rocks than go to the grocery store, but Dave insists on food, so I go.
Sometimes someone will ask me to pick up some things for them, since I'm "going anyway". I usually say No, not because I want to be a bitch or unkind or rude, but because I just don't have room in my little rolling basket to bring anything extra home. I'm the only one in the group who shops for two people, not one, and my space is very limited.
However, a woman I know asked me, and because she had recently done me a favor I felt obligated to pick up her tortillas and apples.
I did my shopping, and we returned at the normal time. I parked my full basket in the game room, and took the elevator to the third floor to deliver her goods. She didn't answer the door, so I hung the sack on the knob and went back to the elevator to go down and home. That was the plan, anyway. DOWN and home.
I pushed the button for the ground floor and the car slowwwwly started it's descent. Then when it got to the second floor....it stopped.
I tried every button. Nuthin'. Stuck. Now for most people, this would be a minor snafu. But I happen to hate heights AND I'm claustrophobic. And here I was, alone, in a powerchair, in a tiny room, 20 feet off the ground.
I called out....I pushed the button with the bell on it....I had a small crying jag/meltdown. Then decided I'd better calm down, or I was gonna be in trouble. (See my previous entry re: Heart Condition)
After I stopped acting like a toddler, I pushed the button that said HELP and it rang the elevator company, and they said they were on the way. In the meantime, the apartment manager had heard my bell ringing cries for help and came to my aid. She got the door to open, and I got off on the second floor. After a couple of test runs that worked fine, I got back on with her, and we made a safe landing on the ground floor.
I got home, an hour late, where I found Dave napping on the couch, none the wiser of my ordeal.
And THIS, my friends is why I :
A. Live on the ground floor
and
2. Don't shop for anyone else.
This week started with a Monday, as most of them are inclined to do. Nothing special about this one, I just mention it because it started the week. I played a couple of hours of Brown Bag Bingo with the gang here at Limpdik Park, won twice.
Then Tuesday came along. Nothing special about this one either (do I detect a pattern in my life??). That is until about 6pm.
My sort-of niece started a book club on Facebook. The first book to be read is called The Heretic's Daughter. (A must-read, especially if you liked the movie The Crucible. It has to do with the Salem witch trials and is written by a direct descendant). It also has an interesting book jacket with a picture of a woman's face wrapping around from front to spine.
I had told my niece that I wouldn't be able to participate in the discussion, because I couldn't afford the book, and publishers are printing books in such small print the past few years, that I find it almost impossible to indulge my love of reading. She assured me that I was still welcome in the club.
Anyway, I was down in the clubhouse here at Limpdik Park, waiting for Bible study to begin. (We meet every Tuesday at 6:30pm around the pool table.Long story.) We have a teeny tiny library/computer room here, where residents can donate books, and you can take them and return them or keep them, doesn't matter. I decided to roll in there and take a look at the new bookcase.
While there, I started looking at the titles of some of the books on another shelf. The print was, again, too small to read...but then....there it was....staring out at me from the spine of one book on the bottom shelf....AN EYEBALL!
Naawwww.....it couldn't be......YES!!! It was!!!...Not only was it The Heretic's Daughter, but it was LARGE PRINT!!!
It was like it was put there just for me. I'm still doing a happy dance about it.
**************************************************************
Then came Wednesday. I got up early and got ready to take the senior bus with the little old ladies to the grocery store. I'd rather eat rocks than go to the grocery store, but Dave insists on food, so I go.
Sometimes someone will ask me to pick up some things for them, since I'm "going anyway". I usually say No, not because I want to be a bitch or unkind or rude, but because I just don't have room in my little rolling basket to bring anything extra home. I'm the only one in the group who shops for two people, not one, and my space is very limited.
However, a woman I know asked me, and because she had recently done me a favor I felt obligated to pick up her tortillas and apples.
I did my shopping, and we returned at the normal time. I parked my full basket in the game room, and took the elevator to the third floor to deliver her goods. She didn't answer the door, so I hung the sack on the knob and went back to the elevator to go down and home. That was the plan, anyway. DOWN and home.
I pushed the button for the ground floor and the car slowwwwly started it's descent. Then when it got to the second floor....it stopped.
I tried every button. Nuthin'. Stuck. Now for most people, this would be a minor snafu. But I happen to hate heights AND I'm claustrophobic. And here I was, alone, in a powerchair, in a tiny room, 20 feet off the ground.
I called out....I pushed the button with the bell on it....I had a small crying jag/meltdown. Then decided I'd better calm down, or I was gonna be in trouble. (See my previous entry re: Heart Condition)
After I stopped acting like a toddler, I pushed the button that said HELP and it rang the elevator company, and they said they were on the way. In the meantime, the apartment manager had heard my bell ringing cries for help and came to my aid. She got the door to open, and I got off on the second floor. After a couple of test runs that worked fine, I got back on with her, and we made a safe landing on the ground floor.
I got home, an hour late, where I found Dave napping on the couch, none the wiser of my ordeal.
And THIS, my friends is why I :
A. Live on the ground floor
and
2. Don't shop for anyone else.
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