Help Wanted

I heard about a woman who was arrested in Georgia for running a strip club out of her basement. I thought this would be a great way for me to supplement my Lucky jeans addiction and I need your help in recruiting.

My basement is really small so I've decided to use my garage.

Auditions will be held today. There's a 90% chance of rain and since I have a pretty significant leak in my garage roof, please wear waterproof makeup for the finale of the routine.



All are invited to apply and we welcome diversity.

Crazy bitch deer killer update

The 75-year-old Euclid woman accused of killing a baby deer with a shovel pleaded not guilty in court Thursday.

However, Dorothy Richardson has admitted to beating the fawn for eating the flowers in her yard earlier this month.

Richardson faces two charges of animal cruelty. She could spend up to six months in jail and pay a large fine.

Outside the courtroom, a member of Richardson’s church spoke to NewsChannel5. She called it a "despicable act" and said she hopes Richardson is punished "to the full extent of the law."

The League of Humane Voters, an animal rights group, said it thinks the 75-year-old should be thrown in jail, even calling her actions premeditated.

"I hope the message is out there: If you are cruel to animals, you’re going to be punished," said league member Tom Brown.

But Richardson and her supporters said she's paid enough already because of constant threats on her life. (Please....I never even touched her!) Police had to patrol the woman's home because of the threats.

Richardson will be back in court for a pretrial hearing in August.

Life Lesson

Always check your child's homework before it gets to school!



Note sent to the teacher the next school day with 1st grader...

Sorry, Ms. James.

That's NOT me pole dancing onstage in a strip joint! I work at Home Depot and that's me selling a shovel.

(signed) Mrs. Smith

No, wait, THIS is my lucky day!

You guys! Listen to this....

It feels like Christmas today! First, I get this email:

I am Barrister Zaid Ibrahim , an attorney at law. A deceased client of mine, that shares the same last name as yours died as the result of a heart-related condition on March 12th 2005. His heart condition was due to the death of all the members of his family in the tsunami disaster on the 26th December 2004 in Sumatra Indonesia. And in the record there is no known successor to this deposit of the deceased who died without a will.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2004_Indian_Ocean_earthquake.

I have contacted you to assist in distributing the money left behind by my client before it is confiscated or declared unserviceable by the bank where this deposit valued at Eighteen million dollars is (US$18million dollars) lodged. This bank has issued me a notice to contact the next of kin, I can be reached on (zaidibahim@sify.com) for more information.

Best regards,
Zaid Ibrahim
Attorney at Law.

Pretty cool stuff, huh? Just when I thought things couldn't get any better, this next bit of news made me positively giddy!

My city, Cleveland, O-HI-O, is rated by Forbes magazine as the 14th hottest city to live in if you're single.

You can view the results here.

They ranked 40 of the largest continental U.S. metropolitan statistical areas in seven different categories: coolness, cost of living alone, culture, job growth, online dating participation, nightlife and the ratio of singles to the entire population of the metro.

For the "Coolness" category, a market research company (aka, people at the mall with clipboards) gave adults a list of cities and asked them to rank them in order of coolness.

We are a very culturally rich city with our museums, playhouse, orchestra and sports teams so I'm guessing that our high ranking here balanced out our likely low ranking in coolness.


Cleveland Museum of Art

Rock and Roll Hall of Fame

Theater District



We do have a large number of restaurants, bars and nightclubs per capita so we do have "Nightlife" but I'm sure that when they counted ALL the restaurants, that the 3000 Chuck E Cheese's must have been inadvertently added.

Here's Chuck E doing a line after the kids go home


As far as "Online Dating" goes, those stats are determined by the percentage of active profiles on Match.com. I would venture to guess that at least half of the male profiles that say "single" are actually "married" and "just looking". Need I remind you? Click here

And when they were tallying up our museums, along with the Cleveland Museum of Art, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum and the Museum of Natural History, that they must have added in the National Cleveland-Style Polka Hall of Fame and the Children's Museum of Cleveland. I don't think either one of these has a Friday Happy Hour.


Accordian exhibit at Polka Museum


Now don't get me wrong, I love Cleveland! And yes, there are lot of things to do here but I wouldn't necessarily rank them all as "single friendly."

But you know what, I'm not worried. When I have my 18 million dollars, the men will all be looking for me!

My Major Award

I am humbled once again to know that someone thinks I'm funny. I mean, I think I'm funny but Ann Coulter considers herself intelligent, so we're all a bit delusional.

This Major Award comes from one of my newest blogging friends, Julie at 47 and Starting Over. If you haven't met Julie, stop by and read her warped, I mean, funny view of life.

This award is for anyone who likes to smile and/or laugh, and just generally spreads that along in this blogging world we all travel in.

I happily just discovered these blogs and I know you'll love them, too! Besides, I think their blogs need to be pimped out with this lamp.


f8hasit Okay, I didn't just discover her, but you have to give your best friend an award..

Weekly Jules If Jules asks you to switch seats with her on the plane so can sit by the emergency exit, DO IT.

Good Twin/Bad Twin KC, you had me at "Death Day"

Yellow Trash Diaries Kim loves/hates Heather Armstrong, too, so how can you not like her?


ENJOY!

This is my Lucky day!

If you've been following my blog for any amount of time, you know that I start and stop diets constantly. I've been trying to lose 20 pounds for about 4 years now. If I followed the "healthy" weight loss track of losing 2 pounds a week, by my calculations, I should now weigh negative 256 pounds.

I remember working for Jenny Craig and trying to close a sale in that small office with the door closed and a potential member's weight graph on the computer screen.

"What if I told you that I had a magic pill that would put you at your ideal weight? What would you pay for that pill?"

I thought it was a ridiculous close and I rarely used it but gosh, I could sure use that magic pill now. And I'm not talking about Alli, that makes you shit yourself as it "prevents your body from holding onto the fat in foods." Just something, anything!

I've been trying to find something to motivate me:

No, it wasn't the fear of seeing classmates from 25 years ago.

No, it's not the prospect of a new lover seeing me naked.

No, it's not to be healthier.

No, it's not to increase my self-esteem.

Girls, I think I've found it!

And I know you can relate. I told myself that I wouldn't buy ANYTHING ELSE that I couldn't wear right out the door just because it's on sale. I have a closet full of things that I'll "fit into when I lose 10 pounds".

But this is different. These are Lucky Jeans. I bought my first pair about a year ago and I felt a little guilty about spending so much money on dungarees. They average around $120. But man, do I look hot in them. AND they come in a 34" inseam which is really hard to find. I was never been a big fan of jeans until Lucky came along.

Okay, so these don't fit. Right now...




But they will. And do you know why? Because they were not only on sale **CHING CHING**, but I bought them with a gift card **CHING CHING**. And I only paid $20 out of pocket. Go ahead, take a minute to let it sink in...

Now, if only I could make my ass look like this again. The inside label says "Good Luck to the Owner." There was never a truer sentiment.

I think I'll keep the receipt. Just in case...

Secondhand Sunday

I've decided to make Sundays my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I thought I would re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel

Click here.

I want my 15 minutes of fame

Who do I have to do to become a Blog of Note? I'm waiting...

How to be an effective leader

I spent 8 hours today in a management training that focused on "What is takes to be an effective leader in our organization." One of the things that I value about working here is that there are opportunities for growth in different areas based on your track record and your willingness to learn and not based solely on your education level. Just before lunch, there was a moderated panel discussion with 4 leaders from different departments in the hospital.

- Panelist A studied in the Phillippines and is the manager of the Histocompatibility & Immunogenics Laboratory and the Molecular Diagnostics Laboratory. Yeah, I have no idea what that is, either.

- Panelist B studied in India and is the VP of Radiology Services.

- Panelist C has worked in healthcare and is the manager of Accounts Receivables and handles billing for 300 physicians.

- Panelist D has worked for the institution for 33 years and currently manages the Supply Chain Services department.

Each panelist was presented with questions that focused on their role as a leader and their role in employee development. Some answered with very succinct responses, some were a little more philosophical and one made no sense at all. It was obvious that he has advanced through the system based on his longevity and ability to adapt to the changing environment and not because of his education.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not an education snob. C'mon, I don't even understand what Panelist A does. Personally, I don't hold any advanced degrees (which I'm reminded of by one doctor who is an education snob-"I have my MBA. Do YOU have an MBA??) and I don't pretend to be something I'm not. I take pride in my communication skills and my ability to interact effectively with all different kinds of individuals but I don't thumb through my word-a-day calendar to enhance my vocabulary before meetings and I don't try to use convoluted analogies to make a point.

Let me give you an example:

Question 1: What do you see is your role as a leader in the organization?

Here was his response: "It's like when you plant a tree or flowers and those flowers or trees, too, are out in the sun. Some trees will only grow in certain climates but others will grow in any climate. And flowers, too. You need to provide that climate so they'll grow. I also use the motivitators that the system has in place." (No, not a typo. He said motivitators.)

Uh huh, uh huh, I see...

Question 2: What systems are in place to help you be an effective leader?

"I can't just do it all myself. Take my shirt for example. It doesn't just wear itself. It's made up of a series of seams and stitching that make it stay on my body. Do you see what I'm saying?"

Uh huh, uh huh, I do....

Moderator: "Okay, thank you all for your responses. Do we have any questions from the audience?"

Yes. What the F#$! is that guy talking about?

Our meeting was held in Shaker Heights, which if this sounds familiar to you, is the name of the city that President Obama held his town hall meeting in today after he visited the Cleveland Clinic. Yesterday, you may have caught a reporter asking the President why he chose to visit the Cleveland Clinic. He floundered for a moment before he said that the reason he chose the Clinic was for its "doctors unique focus on patient care and affordable services over profit."

Let me clarify this for you. It's bull. I work for the OTHER large healthcare institution in Cleveland that shall remain unnamed. The Clinic does not have more affordable services. In fact, dollar for dollar, a great majority of their services are higher priced than ours. What attracted Obama was the model that the Clinic employs regarding physician salaries.

A number of healthcare institutions work on an incentivized model of compensation for their physicians. What this means is that a physician will be paid X number of dollars as a base salary and has the opportunity to earn additional money based on surgeries, higher numbers of patient visits, etc. The perception is that this type of model encourages unnecessary tests and procedures soley for the benefit of the physician's bottom line.

The Clinic has all of their physicians on a flat salary but don't think for a second that administration doesn't know dollar for dollar where those doctors stand at any given minute of the day. Meet your productivity or lose your job. Which is better? I really don't know. And I could give you a long dissertation on the state of healthcare but I'll save you from that.

Instead I'm going to prepare for my staff meeting tomorrow by deciding what kind of flower I am and making sure that I wear a blouse with seams. I want to be sure that I motivitate everyone because I know that some of them are unedumacated.

FREE food!

You know I'm always looking out for you. More free food! This time from Starbucks. You'll need to go to their website and print out the coupon but HURRY, it's only until 10:30AM today.

SO Sleepy...

I didn't fully appreciate the brilliance of Charles Schultz until I snapped this photo of Bernie yawning. Perfection!

Hail to the Brown, Hail to the Gold!

This was my high school. I always thought it looked very regal and formal from the outside. We were named after the inventor of the arc light, Charles F. Brush. You can thank Mr. Brush for streetlights and we can thank him for being called the Brush Arcs. The what??

Our 25 year high school reunion was this past Saturday and I have to admit, it was more fun than I had anticipated. Our school district had about 5 or 6 elementary schools, 2 junior highs and 1 high school so as you can imagine, we had a really large graduating class of over 450 students. About 1/4 of those showed up for the reunion. It was a casual affair, booked at a local bar/restaurant that's owned by a former student's family.



I went with the three girls in this picture. We've all been friends since elementary school and people are always amazed when we tell them that we're just as close now as we've always been. I don't think I've ever had an argument with any of them that would be considered anything more than a disagreement. And it was usually over some idiot one of us was dating.

"He's a loser!"

"But I love him!"

"He's a cheater!"

"I can forgive him!"

In the car on the way there, we all admitted to feeling a little nervous. It was like starting your first day of school all over again. Will they like me? Is this outfit okay? Am I thin enough? And on and on..

However, once we got there, it didn't matter what anyone was wearing, who was thin, who was fat or who was bald. It was just nice to see old friends. Although, I have to admit that I did avoid walking past some people I really didn't want to talk to. Hey, they looked at me funny so they started it!

Given that our class was so large, there were a number of people there that I never knew in school and some that I knew but didn't recognize. One guy came up to hug me and I had to casually glance down at his name tag when I pulled away to see who the hell he was.

No, Vince wasn't there but I did see a guy that I've had on a crush on ever since high school. I never thought he even knew who I was so when he stopped me and kissed me on the cheek on my way past him, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I felt like Marcia Brady when Davy Jones kissed her. I haven't washed my cheek since.



I learned a few things on Saturday night:

1. The grass isn't always greener.

2. A letterman's jacket doesn't look hot on a 43 year old man.

3. Even geeky guys have mid life crises and leave their wives for younger women.

5. No one remembers my dress getting stuck in the back of my pantyhose at Heart Hop.

6. You can go home.

Secondhand Sunday

I've decided to make Sundays my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I thought I would re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.

Click Here

Can you find me?

Most of us in the blogging community use some sort of counter to see how many people are visiting our blogs. The one that I use also gives you a breakdown of recent phrases that are used in Google searches.

Because of my blog title, people navigate to me through some interesting channels. These are a few of my recent favorites.

1. 10 things to never say to a stripper

2. How to tell if a stripper is okay to eat

3. Stripper boys

4. Why do strippers like girls

5. I was the girl with the shiny black shoes who knew all of the bible stories every other girl was jealous of in sunday school

6. Bernie the stripper

7. Are you wearing my nightie

8. Does testosterone smell

9. Everyone has issues

10. Why do guys like the librarian look

Athletic perfection

My sister bought me this Iron Gym pullup bar last Christmas. I HAD to have it so I could get in shape. My goal was to be able to do 20 pull ups by my birthday in July. A little lofty, perhaps, but I was confident that I could do it.

How many can I do? Drum roll, please.....

One.

Okay, 1/2 of one. But that's 1/2 of one more than I could do in December!

Hey, Dara! You better hope I never learn to swim, my friend, or you're goin' down.

Early bird sale?

Someone had better explain to me why I'm seeing PUMPKINS in my Jo-Ann Store flyer in JULY.

WTF?!??!








By the way, this marker smells divine! And I thought my Robitussin high was good.

You're sick, are you?

Last Thursday was my birthday and since I'm not one for big celebrations, my birthday treat was going out for ice cream. And it was DE-LICIOUS. Now you know I did that vegan thing for about 6 weeks. Well, the last few weeks, I've been eating the occasional piece of chicken or salmon and I really don't have much of a desire to go back to the way I was eating. I know! I can't believe it either.

However, as Ben and Jerry will attest, I do likes my ice cream.

I knew I would feel like crap the day after my indulgence and I did. My head was stuffed, sinuses puffy and my throat was killing me. Don't get me wrong, I would do it again. I just had no idea I would feel that bad from ice cream.

I still felt really out of sorts on Friday and Saturday, I had to cancel my plans for the day. By the middle of Saturday night, I had a full blown nasty cold that knocked me on my ass. Hmmm....I guess I didn't feel that bad from ice cream after all. Good to know..

I've even worked from home the last few days, which I never do. In fact, I don't think I've stayed home more than once in the last year and a half.

My father instilled a really strong work ethic in me and I always feel incredibly guilty when I stay home;like everyone thinks I'm playing hooky or something. I'm sure they don't, but I want to email them all a photo of the huge snot bag I take from room to room to dump my used tissue in. Then, I want to call each person's voice mail, cough in the phone and leave a message in that 'middle aged woman who retired to Florida' voice that I get when I'm sick.

You know the voice. She's the woman who smokes too many cigarettes and spends too much time in the sun. She takes a drag on a cigarette, "Sweethawt, you look like my second husband. He was a good providuh but not much between the sheets, if ya know what I mean?" Exhhhaaallleee....

I picture them sitting around the lunchtable, "She's not sick. It's a nice day out. Gee, I'm feeling a little ill, too. Cough. Cough." And then they all have a good laugh at my expense.

Next, they wander in and out of my office, taking dibs on my pictures, office supplies and chairs, just in case I don't make it. Kind of like when Ebenezer Scrooge dies and people take the bed curtains from his bed before his body is even cold.

I'm sure they probably don't do any of these things but I've had a little too much Robitussin and decongestants.

Well, why didn't you say so?

My first foray into the medical field was working as a secretary for an ophthalmologist. I had no medical background and each patient call I received those first few weeks caused my anxiety level to increase as I wondered if I would be able to address the problem on the other end of the line.

To make matters worse, there must have been a new operator on the phones because I was constantly answering calls that had been routed to me in error.

Ring! Ring!

"Good Morning, Dr. Paul's office. How may I help you?"

"I need to see the Doctuh. I gots pain real bad," the drunken sounding man yelled into the phone.

"What seems to be the problem, sir?"

"I said, I gots pain real bad. And there be pus comin' out a my ahss," he slurred.

"I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong department."

"No! I got pus coming out of my ahss. Ain't you lisnin' to me?"

I no longer thought that this was an incorrectly routed call but a drunken prank. How dare he tell me that he has pus coming out of his ass! What kind of a sick joke was this?

"Sir, I think you have the wrong department."

"No. I'll come over there and show it to ya. There's pus in my ahss."

"Is this a joke? Sir, I do not want to see pus coming out of your ass.""

"Ass? I didn't say ass. I said, ahss. I have pus coming out of my ahss."

"Did you say eyes? There's pus coming out of your eyes?"

"Yeah, thas what I said. Pus in my ahss."

"Oh. Well, why didn't you say so? Hold, please."

It took me 5 minutes to stop laughing before I could get back on the phone and make his appointment.

Secondhand Sunday

I've decided to make Sundays my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I thought I would re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.

Click here

Happy Sunday!

Wouldn't it be good?

My 25 year high school reunion is quickly approaching and will be here in a week. In my panic to remove 10 years from my face in as many days, I started using an exfoliator a few days ago. Now if any of you have ever used exfoliators, you know that initially you break out like a teenager as all the impurities and embedded crap work their way out of your skin. I now look like the BEFORE picture in a Proactiv ad.

A few days ago, I saw two of the girls that I’m going to the reunion with and we talked about what we’re going to wear. One has the body and looks of a model and is going to wear skinny jeans. I don’t think skinny jeans would even fit over my arms! What the heck am I going to wear? Not that it matters since everyone will be looking at her anyway.

You know, I’m probably at a point in my life where I’m more secure than I’ve ever been; however, we all have moments where we feel like we’re still 14 years old and wishing we were someone else. I'm having one of those moments.

As I was getting ready for work yesterday, I lamented the fact that my skin is a mess and I’m still fat. On my drive to work, I was preoccupied with alternately looking at the zits on my face and studying the gray roots on my head. To matters worse, I got stuck on red at the longest traffic light in town. My annoyance with the light was exacerbated by the fact that I was running late and listening to some morning radio show idiots spew sophomoric drivel. Why were all these awful things happening to me?

I disgustedly reached out to punch a button and change the radio station. At that moment, I glanced across the intersection toward an elderly man as Howard Jones sang out the chorus to “Wouldn’t It Be Good?” (…"to be in your shoes, even if it was for just one day. Wouldn’t it be good if we could wish ourselves away..")

The man was hunched over almost to the waist. As he waited for the light to change to green, he became fatigued and sat down on the seat that was attached to his walker. His sparse hair was gray and he wore an oversized black coat. When the light turned green, I saw him slowly get up and pivot his whole body to the side to see if there was any oncoming traffic. As I passed him, he inched his way across the street while a blue plastic grocery bag slapped against the metal walker’s leg with each tiny shuffle he made. I wondered why someone hadn't given him a ride to the store.

I continued on to work and saw a man pushing a shopping cart piled with his possessions and then a Public Auction sign in front of a house with an overgrown lawn ("…wouldn’t it be good to be on your side, the grass is always greener over there. Wouldn’t it be good if we could live without a care….”).

At that moment, I felt overwhelmed with emotion as I realized how ridiculous I was being for getting upset over inconsequential crap. I'm very blessed to have the simple things that others long for; a place to rest to my head, friends and family who love me and a clean bill of health.

I can’t help it. I still wish I could fit into skinny jeans.

Vigilante Gardener

As many of us do, I live in an area that has a high population of deer. There are no natural predators, other than the avid hunter in season, so they continue to grow. Our over-development of their natural habitat for our commercial and residential greed have displaced them and cause them to seek alternate means of sustenance. And that usually includes our flowers or vegetable gardens.

When I first moved into my home 3 years ago, I bought lots of flowers, trying to create the perfect landscape. Within a few weeks, they were eaten by thieves who snuck in at dawn. On the occasional morning that I was up early and not hurriedly preparing for work, I would look out my back window and see these lovelies in my yard.




Suddenly, I was no longer annoyed by my lack of flowers and I welcomed the sight of them. Today, I don't bother planting flowers anymore and I enjoy seeing the doe with her fawns, relaxing in the secret solace of my backyard.

That's why I was so horrified by this local news story.

Resident Dorothy Richardson, 76, said she was defending herself when she beat to death a 25-pound fawn that was crouched in her flower bed, then stuffed the fawn's body in a cardboard box and put it out on trash day.

A widow, she said she has been defending her garden against deer for years and this time took a shovel and beat the fawn until it died.

She said the fawn's eyes contacted hers, like he was going to jump and bite her head off.

Euclid City Councilman Christopher Gruber says Richardson told him something different.

Gruber says Richardson said she hit it once and, according to her, it screamed and she hit it two more times, then she said that what she wanted to do was put it at the end of the yard so the other deer know not to mess with her.

Gruber is now a witness in the animal abuse case against Richardson. If convicted, she faces up to 60 days in jail and a $1,000 fine.

I hope she gets the maximum. At the very least, someone should hit her over the head with a shovel.

My what big teeth you have!

I was eating an apple tonight and bit my lip. In the same place that I've bit my lip at least three other times today and twice yesterday. I know people who occasionally bite their lips or tongue. I, on the other hand, do it constantly because my bite is so misaligned. I've even considered having my jaw broken and reset.

When I was young, the dentist suggested that I get braces.

"There's nothing wrong with her teeth, Jean, we aren't doing it," my father argued.

"Maybe there is, though," my mother replied.

"Ridiculous! They're just trying to make money. Crooks!"

Here's a picture of me as a child.



My parents were both Depression era babies and still think a loaf of bread should be a nickel. My mother isn't as bad as my father who thinks everyone is out to screw him. When I told him about Bernie and how much the tests were to diagnose her, his response was to get a second opinion to be sure the vet wasn't just trying to make money off us. Crook!

My father's frugality brings us back again to my continually swelling lip caused by my ridiculously uneven bite. I've always been a voracious masticator so it generally doesn't take more than one chomp to do damage. Once, I had bitten down so hard that I thought I was going to pass out from the pain of my self-inflicted wound. My lip swelled so large and turned so purple that when I went to work the next day, I lied and told everyone that my neighbor's dog had bit me. Woof.

Each time this happens, I touch my finger to my lip to check for blood, mutter "son-of-a-bitch" and then hold my finger out to gaze at my latest DNA sample. My father will still argue to this day that I have beautiful teeth because I never had braces.

Yes, I am glad that my teeth look relatively normal from the outside since all the damage lies inside where no one can see it.

Sort of like what happened to my soul. Thanks, Mom & Dad.

Love my friends

A happy surprise for my "I Don't Like Mondays" Monday was a note from my friend Nancy at f8hasit presenting me with the Love My Friends Award. It's always a pleasure to know that people enjoy perusing the random musings of my life. Even if it's your best friend giving you the award.

Here are the rules:

The Love My Friends Award is given to those bloggers who aspire, inspire and share the most beautiful of human attributes: art, wisdom and friendship. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more.

Now I would love to award this to eight bloggers who in turn much choose eight more. However, as with most of my posts, I hurriedly type what's on my mind first thing in the morning as I'm getting ready for work or before I go to sleep. I'm not as studied as other bloggers who keep multiple posts to pull out when writer's block has set in.

And I'm historically known to be the one who breaks the chain in the chain letter or 'good luck will come to you' email. Luckily, this award didn't come with threats of '7 years of bad luck' or 'eternal damnation' if I didn't follow the rules. Because let's face it, I'm probably going to hell anyway. No need to reserve a front row seat. Although I guess in hell, it would probably be a back row seat.

Instead I invite you to peruse the Stripper Chick Approved blogs listed here. If you are one of my faves, much like we rent movies from a red box and check out our own groceries, give yourself this award and a pat on the back for a job well done. But don't forget to forward it to eight other bloggers or 'you'll never have sex again'.

I don't like Mondays

I knew it was going to be one of those days when at 1:30AM I was still awake and this song was going through my head.

For those of you who don't remember this song, Bob Geldof wrote it after reading a news article about a 16 year old girl who shot randomly at children playing in a schoolyard. When they asked her why she did it, her response was "I don't like Mondays".

I thought this was a pretty cool version with Bon Jovi. And besides, Jon looks dreamy. Or maybe he just looks so good because he's in the same video as Bob Geldof.

Secondhand Sunday

I've decided to make Sundays my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I thought I would re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.

Click here

Happy Sunday!

Bernie News

The vet called today and confirmed that Bernie has Cushing's Disease, which is caused by an over-production of cortisol by the adrenal glands. The over-production then causes the hormone ACTH to be secreted by the pituitary gland. It's commonly seen in older dogs and since most of the symptoms resemble common aging signs, it often isn't diagnosed right away.

She has six out of the seven symptoms and I'm glad that they were able to diagnose it because I thought most of them must have just been age related.

We're going to start on her a daily medication that works by interfering with cortisol synthesis to prevent excess cortisol production. With treatment, the prognosis is really good for managing the disease although recovery is not possible. The goal is to abate and in numerous cases eliminate the symptoms that cause such discomfort.

General protocol for the drug is to retest in 10 days and then every 30 days thereafter so that dosage levels can be adjusted accordingly. We're not going to do this since every test is $200 and the medication is already $70 a month. The vet believes that monitoring her weekly for any significant changes is a good course of action with retesting in 2-3 months.

That's the good news!

The not so good news is that she still has an enlarged heart for which she's on medication to reduce the size and decrease the strain on her heart. They'll do another ultrasound in a few months to see how she's doing but the only true indicator would be send her for a full cardiac work-up. Sorry, Bern, we aren't going to do that. We need to be able to continue to pay the mortgage.

We're going to take a couple days off for the holiday so we hope you all have a great one!

Man in nightie exposes himself

A 42-year-old Solon man dressed in lingerie was arrested Tuesday for exposing himself to motorists, police said.
Jeffrey Hirsch was pulling up his pants and wiping off his lipstick and gloss when Parma police officers approached him, Detective Marty Compton said. Hirsch was cited for public indecency.

A woman called police about 1:30 p.m. and said a man had just exposed himself to her while driving south on Pearl Road near Brookpark Road. She followed the man, who was driving a gold 2007 GMC Yukon, and described the vehicle to police dispatchers. The Yukon's license plate is ET 77 JA.

Everytime I see a headline like this, I hold my breath for a second until I see the person's name.

I dated and subsequently fell madly in love with a man in 1997. He was tall, handsome and had a great body. He was also probably the biggest homophobe I had ever met in my life. I lived in Lakewood, OH, which in the original Trivial Pursuit game was tagged as the city with the largest per capita gay population in the country. Well, that just annoyed him more. I teased him that the people who hate the most are usually the ones most afraid of their attraction to what they revile. He wasn't amused.

After a while, I started to suspect that he might be cheating on me so I started to "snoop" around his apartment. I found women's makeup and perfume that I attributed to a former girlfriend. Then there were women's shoes and clothing, both in larger sizes. I didn't say anything right away until I found lingerie. It was right before Valentine's Day and I just assumed he had bought it for me. When Valentine's Day came and went and I didn't receive that lingerie as a gift, I knew something wasn't right.

He had lots of excuses that eventually led to our final breakup. Our on again, off again three year relationship has always been rather tumultuous and I always made excuses for his abusive behavior. This time, he revealed that he was gay but married a woman less than a year later telling me that he had lied to me about being gay.

A few years went by and he started coming around again. Getting out of that relationship had allowed me to look at the issues in my life that had made me decide to stay with an abusive man. I had forgiven him, my mother and myself and foolishly thought that we could be friends.

He had started a family but had this secret life on the side. He opened my eyes to a whole underground secret sex world that existed in quiet suburban Cleveland. PTA moms became swingers at night, married men took male lovers and estates on the lake became makeshift brothels. I think my curiosity got the best of me but I never participated in anything.

As the years went by, he drifted in and out of my life and his propensity for these behaviors increased and became more dangerous. He remained married and continued to grow his family, all the while having relationships with men on the side. I don't really know if his wife knew because his story kept changing when I asked him.

He said he could never truly live a gay life because he had too much to lose. Part of me always held onto what I thought we could have had as I tried to come to terms with the man he had become or I suppose, always was.

I last saw him in the fall when he called to tell me he was getting a divorce. He asked if I would help him find an apartment. I agreed and when he showed up, was wearing a dress, high heels, makeup and a wig. I had seen him like this before and I really wanted to be supportive of him but I was sad. Sad for myself and what might have been if circumstances were different, sad for his wife who may or may not know who he really is, but mostly sad for him because he was too afraid to be true to himself.

He never did get that divorce but I had to divorce myself from him because there were just too many emotions attached to him after 11 years. I went through a grieving process as if he had died, which, I guess, he sort of did.

Medic!

It's been raining pretty non-stop here for the last few days. Bernie is horrified of the thunder so, lucky for me, it tends to start thundering when I've been asleep for two or three hours. I'm usually in the middle of a dream where David Beckham has left that skinny ass wife of his for me. I'm lying on the bed as he's walking toward me, staring into my eyes....



...and then Bernie is jumping on the side of my bed because there's been a clap of thunder.

In my haste to get some sleep before the storm started again last night, I knocked over the glass that sits on the pedestal sink in my bathroom. I should have learned long ago to only buy plastic because I inevitably break anything that's glass in my house.

I picked up the the large pieces as I shooed Bernie out so she wouldn't step in any glass. Im already paying for the vet's new car, I don't need to pay for the addition on her home.

I was pretty sure I had picked up all the pieces so I did one last sweep with a wet tissue. Well, I hadn't gotten it all until the last sliver slid under my nail and lodged there. It went something like this.

"Holy shit!!! Oh my God, oh my God, Oh my God! Holy shit! Bernie get out. OUT! Oh my God!!!"

It was bleeding so bad that I could barely see the piece of glass and when I tried to pull it out with my fingers, i just lodged it further in. I tried not to bleed all over the bathroom as I searched for my tweezers. I found them but I'm less than adept at using them left handed and I had to rinse my finger each time so I could see where the sliver was.

I finally managed to get the glass out and wrap a tissue around my finger. I kept replacing it as I bled through each one. I contemplated what to do as panic quickly set in.

I was too tired to drive to the emergency room and I had dated the best of friend of a paramedic so I knew that if I called 911, I would have to straighten up the house and put makeup on. Then there was the cop my friend tried to set me up with who never called me again. He would probably show up, too. No, I didn't need an episode of "This is Your Life" playing out in my living room.

My finger finally clotted and I applied some Jesus salve, also known as Doctor Burt's Res-Q Ointment. I swear, this smelly green stuff can cure anything.

I thought I was home free until this morning when I went to pick up the overflowing wastebasket in my bathroom. I sliced the opposite hand with the broken glass that was perched on the top.

Do I try to clot it or do I call 911? Well, I'm already dressed and I am having a good hair day...