May The Fug Be With You

Scarlett...the next time you come to pick up my trash, would you please stop taking the DVD's of your movies out of my trash bags?

That Blows

Kate Moss attended her rehabilitated boyfriend's concert last night and several concert goers noticed a little white dust in her nose. I must say it does look visible in this picture and people around her were saying it was 'talcum powder'. Talcum Powder! I didn't even know you could get that unless you ordered it trough Avon. Further more, if someone went around telling people that I wore talcum powder, I would lie and say it was cocaine.

The End Draweth Nigh

Dustin 'Screech' Diamond is the proud owner of his own forty minute sex tape that features him and two other women. This descent into fornication is tentativly titled Saved By The Smell. I think it should be called I Think I'm In Hell out of respect for those who view it.

No, I'm Not Dead

I know it feels as if I have abandoned you but alas, I have not. THE HOUSEKEEPER HAS RETURNED. WOO HOO! Thank you so much for all the emails asking about me...makes a girl feel good that so many people miss the bitchin'.

So I'm off to work on a few posts for you my friends. I've got a lot of animosity pent up, mainly at Lindsey Lohan for INSISTING to show her crotch at every conceivable angle.

Warning: Political Rant Ahead

Some of you may be aware of a film that debuted at the Toronto Film Festival last night entitled Death Of A President, which features a simulated George W. Bush being assasinated by a sniper bullet. Most Americans, regardless of their political leanings, are offended greatly by this mocumentry. Myself included.

What bothers me most is that those in the British media refuse to speak out against this film. I think it's irresponisble and from the clip I've seen, it's evident the filmakers are guilty of wishful thinking. What I find so ironic is that some Britians accuse Americans of being uncivilized and barbaric. Hello Pot.

No offense to my UK readers...you know I love you dearly!

Brooke Sheilds Eats Her Eye Boogers

OMG..this is the most disgusting thing ever (aside from the recent Lindsey Hohan crotch shot that's floating around). There is an entire series of pictures of Brooke Sheilds picking her eye booger and then sticking her finger in her mouth. I'd hate to know what she does after she gets though poo poo'ing.

Awakening

I will always remember because I could never forget,
the blood that flowed through ash and made our streets wet.

I will always remember my countrymen who lost their lives,
The sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, the husbands and wives.

I will always remember the screams that filled the air,
when it became obvious that help could not get there.

I will always remember the silence that soon came,
as we watched the towers crumble in a concrete filled rain.

I will always remember the cries of agony and pain,
as each one of us realized life would never be the same.

I will always remember the firemen who rushed into their tombs,
and in my sleep I hear their children say, 'Will my daddy be home soon?"

I will always remember my president standing on the rubble,
who assured us Al Queda had found what they sought...trouble.

I will always remember the first year, the second and the third,
and as the tanks with soilders roll out, I'm glad he kept his word.

I will always remember the charred ground from flight 93,
and I know that easily could have been you or me.

I will always remember the lives that were lost that day,
I pray that God shines His light and we let Him lead the way.

Author Unknown

You may not agree with everything that happens in this country, but please remember that we are all united in one cause. Freedom. Thank you to all the men and women who selflessly give their time and in some cases, their lives. I salute you and you are the reason I enjoy the freedoms I do. I promise to teach my children to respect and reflect on what you've done and the sacrifices you've made.

May God bless our country, our cause and each of us as we navigate our way through these treacherous times.

What A Tangled Web We Weave

And no I don't mean Jessica's hair. It seems that everyone knew Jessica was dating John Mayer...except John Mayer. The relationship between the two is over before it ever really began. According to sources close to Mayer, he sees her publicity blitz about their 'relationship' as questionable due to the fact that Jessica began talking a few days before her record hit the shelves. Strangely enough...Jessica was extremely open about her relationship with Mayer then suddenly asserted they weren't really dating. The ploy didn't work though...she only sold 92,000 copies as apposed to Nick's 175,000. John Mayer said he's no longer interested in Jessica and things her tactics were 'desperate'.

Rave

Guess which star is playing the role of a lifetime? And by that, I mean the opportunity to dress like a woman.

So Long My Friend

When my parent's house burned to the ground in May, I inherited my father's dog, Bill Bob. Bill Bob was fifteen years old and he was featured occasionally on this blog. Bill Bob's stay with us was temporary until my father could have a privacy fence built at their new home. In the meantime, my father would come over everyday after work and spend about an hour with Bill Bob to make sure he knew my dad hadn't forgot him.

Sometime between last night and this morning, Bill Bob was struck by a car and died. My neighbor, who has become very fond of the dog, knocked on my door and shared the bad news with me. My heart broke for my father. He loved this dog. So I got Billy to go check and make sure it was really Bill Bob although I knew deep down it was. As soon as I got the confirmation call, I threw on some clothes and headed to my dad's business.

"Hey dad...I have some bad news." I said in a quiet voice I didn't even recognize. I looked him in the eye, praying that he would guess so I wouldn't have to say the words.

His face instantly grew serious. "What is it?!" Still, I waited.

"Bill Bob's dead," I informed him in a near whisper. "He got run over by a car. Billy's going to get him now and bury him for you."

"Don't tell me that! Don't tell me that!" my father demanded, pacing back and forth. "I don't want to see him...I can't see him. It'll kill me."

My mother was in the background crying softly before becoming angry. "What was his tail doing out of the fence anyway?!" She asked no one in particular. Bill Bob was an escape artist. There was no fence that could keep him in, despite our numerous attempts. Our yard looked like Sanford and Son from all the things we had put in front of the fence to keep him in.

My father sat down on some boxes, buried his face in his hands...and cried like a baby. "Well, I guess my boy's gone. I gotta move on now. He was my best friend but I can't let it get me down. I gotta move on. But I'm through with dogs. There'll never be another one like him." I looked at his hands. They were soaking wet. I put my arm around him and waited for him to gain his composure. We sat together for a few minutes before my father took a deep breath.

He picked up the phone and called Billy and requested that Bill Bob be buried where he was born...the empty lot where my parents house once stood on the hill a few short months ago. He said he wanted him taken 'home'.

Where's Maddie?

This is a picture of the University Of Alabama football stadium. It was taken this past Saturday night at the UA vs. Hawaii game from a helicopter. I am somewhere in this picture with my bonus child, "D". Top deck, left side. There I am...see?

So we're sitting there watching the game and it is so crowded...largest attendance in the schools history. And it's hot. And we're sweaty. And we are on the side that faces the sun (which as just gone down minutes before) and we are sandwiched between a woman and her daughter on one side and a couple on the other. The wind starts blowing and funk assaults my nostrils. I'll try to describe it without going into all the graphic detail...you know how when a woman is...having an intimate relationship with Tampax or Kotex? Well...obviously the woman (not the one with the child) was having one and she was hesitant to depart from it. She had been sitting out in the hot sun and had not made any trips to the bathroom to 'take care of business and freshen up' in a really loooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnggggg time. Everyone following me?

So my nose hairs are burning and I want take my shirt off and make a makeshift gas mask. The bitch is rurnt. D looks at me and goes, "Dude...what's that smell?" What do you tell a seventeen year old young man? I tried to be as delicate as possible but I told him what I thought it was. So obviously the woman knows her knickers are kicking it, cause she leaves the game early. She has to walk in front of me and D. When I tell you the woman's bum passed not even three inches from our noses...D and I both looked at each other and D goes, 'Oh my God," as if he cannot even comprehend something smelling so foul. The wind is blowing hard to.

So our noses stop bleeding and the wind settles down. Then, the bottom fell out. D looks at me and says, "Dude...somebody's baby farted." I look around...no babies are anywhere in the vicinity. I'm thinking someone has a skid in their underwear after that one, cause it was horrific. I tell D to take his shirt off and wave it around in surrender. So for the rest of the night, we listen to the little girl beside us scream cheers the entire time, at the top of her lungs, even when we were doing bad, and she smells like poo.

Ah...nothing like football in Autumn.

Welcome To The Jungle

Hey Mischa? My grandmother called...she wants her beat down, 1970's, Dolly Parton, coat of many colors purse back. Did Cisco tell you that the gold lame shirt worked? Cause the only thing it's working is my cornea. How much does a quarter bag cost these days?

Poor Babies...

My poor readers. I'm sorry I've abandoned you in favor of Tide with Febreeze. I've thought about each of you every day so don't despair. You may personally thank T-Girl for the removal of John Mayer's picture. My posting may be sporadic for the next few days but I promise I will be back to my normal, bitchy, regular posting self as soon as my housekeeper returns. I may even try and sneak a few posts in today if I can get the FRUIT OF MY LOINS TO CLEAN UP THEIR ROOMS.

Ladies...I don't know how you do it. My hat is seriously off to you. I will defend stay at home mothers until the death. I dare someone suggest there is a harder job. Although I'm not technically a stay at home mom, my office is in my home and without my housekeeper here...let's just say I've increased my anti-depressant dosage.

Please don't go away. I'm coming...just pray that Mrs. E's stitches heal fast.