Shameless self promotion

Okay, so I've already posted for Secondhand Sunday but I can't resist exploiting my 15 minutes of fame.

My good friend, Ron, at Vent interviewed moi this week and you can see that interview along with a picture of me and my new beau.

While you're there, be sure to take a few moments to experience Ron's unique sense of humor. He's a scream!

Click here for the full experience...

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

Solly, Cholly

I made a remark to my co-worker, Lori, the other day that one of our doctors reminded me of Mr. Magoo. I haven't watched Mr. Magoo in years but I remember what fun it was to watch crotchety, near-sighted Mr. Magoo bumbling through his days in ignorant bliss.

The colorful characters in the show added to the fun.

Bowser: Quincy Magoo's dog that is really a Siamese cat

Waldo: his dimwitted nephew

Mother Magoo: the self-sufficient mother that Quincy sees as delicate and fragile

Tycoon Magoo: Quincy's rich uncle

Worcestershire: Tycoon Magoo's butler

McBarker: his bulldog who shared his myopia affliction (added in the later 70's series)

and my personal favorite:

Charley: Mr. Magoo's Chinese houseboy who referred to himself in third person as "Cholly"


Lori came to work the next day telling me that she looked up some episodes of Mr. Magoo to show her kids (8 and 10 years old) and how she laughed way more than they did. As she was explaining an episode where Mr. Magoo thought he was taking someone to an amusement park, she had to stop talking because she was laughing so hard as she told of how Mr. Magoo walked up to worker standing at a cart in the salt mine and said, "Two, please" as he entered the "ride".

Right then, I went on Amazon and ordered the full DVD collection that I'm watching tonight. Now I know when the character of Cholly was introduced, there was some controversy about the stereotype but I was shocked that he no longer referred to himself as Cholly but as Charlie instead.

WHAT?!?!

Is this what we've come to in our politically correct society? Can we no longer watch the classics and see a Chinese man refer to himself as Cholly and his boss as bloss?

Television is our time capsule that takes us back to simpler times when blue collar, uneducated Archie Bunker was able to spout off about his meathead, liberal son-in-law Mike while he was arguing with his black neighbor George Jefferson's brother, Henry, about the difference between honkeys and spades.

Look how far we've come. Let's not let this uber PC world keep us from laughing at the lunacy of stereotypes, too.

Enjoy!

One more time

Moderation has never been my strong suit. Since I went off my vegan diet a few weeks back, I've really gone overboard with the sweets. I need to get back on track and start eating more veggies and beans again.

They just found out at work that I decided to do this.

As My World Turns, Part 2

Okay, so it hasn't gotten any better. In fact, it's gotten much worse. In case you weren't around for Part 1, click here to get up speed on the nightmare that is my life. Alright, nightmare might be a little harsh but you'll see what I mean.

The condensed version is that my neighbors are getting a divorce and the husband is way too friendly. The house has been transferred over into his name and he made certain that I was aware of the fact that they are now sleeping in separate rooms. He finds a reason to call me at least once a day and I can't set foot outside without the reverberating, "Christine!" yell coming over the fence.

The other day he called me and started the conversation with, "Hi Christine. I just wanted to let you know I was looking over at your house from my third floor window..."

I expected the next line to be, And I saw you getting out of the shower. He wanted to tell me that my gutters needed cleaning. Um, thanks?

I have a beautiful yard that I never enjoy and even my front steps have become off limits for me and Bernie. I love my house but I would move tomorrow to get away from this man. I've reached the breaking point that I was at in 2007 when I had to tell him to leave me alone. My sister thinks it would be "mean" to tell him again and that I should find a nice, subtle way to convey my annoyance so I've written this letter for your review:

Dear Jim,

Though we've had this discussion before, I feel that it is once again time to tell you how I feel about your constant phone calls and knocks at my door.

*No, I don't care if my gutters need cleaning and I would appreciate it if you would stop inspecting my house.

*No, I don't want any of the watermelon you are cutting up.

*No, I don't need anything from Costco.

*No, I don't need you to take a look at my computer and make sure that it's running at optimal speed.

*No, I'm not home yet and I don't care if my garbage can is nowhere to be found.

*No, I don't need any coupons for the Vitamin Shoppe.

*No, Bernie does not need you to come over when I'm not home to take her out.

*No, I don't have any extra U-Verse remotes that you can use. Yes, I only have one TV. Yes, one. No, I don't want another TV.

*No, I don't care if I forgot to close my dining room window before I turned my air conditioning on.

*No, I'm not off today. I was just up late and that's why my bedroom light was on.

*Yes, I'm home from work already which is why my front door is open. My car is in the garage.

*No, I haven't lost weight, cut my hair, done something different..


The following are the circumstances under which you may call me:

*My house is being burglarized. Please call 911 first.

*My house is burning down. Use the key I'm quite certain you have, to get Bernie out and then call 911.

If you set foot uninvited on my property again, I will set off a warning shot to remind you. In other words, leave me the f#!@# alone!

Thank you.


What do you think? It's nice, right?

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.

The plight of the starving

Please Sir...can you spare a Milk Bone? I haven't eaten in days.

Just Do It

I saw this headline today:

South Africa's new 800-metre world champion Caster Semenya was declared a "golden girl" by local press Thursday, with the athlete's family shrugging off questions about the runner's gender.

This is causing quite a stir. I say, go ahead with the gender testing. And while you're at it, would you add her to the list, please?

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. I had so much fun with this the first time, I thought I would list some more.


1) Armenian hookers

2) What percentage of money has actually touched a stripper

3) Is my neighbor a stripper?

4) Was meryl Streep a stripper?

5) Where to put dollars on a stripper

6) Girl with green card can work stripper?

7) Women should be librarians and strippers

8) Middle aged strippers

9) does the stripper like me

10) Are Lucky jeans vegan?

BAAAAAA!

I would like to take a moment to retract this statement that I made in February. As you know, I created a Facebook page under my stripper name, Chrissy Starr, for curiosities sake and to see what it was all about. I didn't want to use my real name because I didn't want anyone who knows me professionally to see me hanging out on Facebook. Although, they would only find me if they were hanging out on Facebook, too, but you see what I'm saying.

I have a pretty unique last name and curiously enough, there's already someone with a page out there under my real name. I just found out about her a few years back. She's married to my father's second cousin and even has the same middle initial. I learned that when I went to a doctor's appointment and they insisted I was born in 1965. NO! I was born in 1966.

Well, I'm now up to 19 friends on Facebook so I think what has happened here is a clear case of "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Every time I accept a gift of ghetto fabulous bling, add animals to my "farm" or find out my mafia name (Rosa "Big Lips" Gambini), I chuckle a little at the fact that I'm FORTY THREE and doing these things.

I mean, I even started a Dogbook page for Bernie and gave her a wienerlicious!

I suppose it was inevitable. I mean, I am a sheep.

I'm a Pepper.

I can hear you now.

I told two friends and so on and so on...

I don't squeeze the Charmin.

And I reach out and touch someone at every chance I get.


But please come to my rescue if anyone offers me Kool-Aid!

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

Benvenuti!

A few weeks back, I shared some photos of my home town with you. I know Cleveland gets a bad wrap going way back to when our river caught fire in 1969.

Yes. Water. Fire. You read that right.

But the tides are a turnin' and I think people are gaining a new appreciation for what we have to offer. And we were just voted the 14th hottest city to live in if you're single!

Cleveland is rich in it's ethnic diversity and of my favorite summer events that highlights that is the Roman Catholic Feast of the Assumption in Little Italy. Christians of the Catholic Church believe that August 15 is the day that the Virgin Mary departed life and ascended into Heaven.

As you might recall, this is the stretch of town that I pass through every day on my way to work. This is how Little Italy looks on any given day.



















And this is how it looks during the Feast when the hill is shut down and revelers come in droves to celebrate and FEAST. Elastic pants are a must.






































Since you probably won't make it here before the end of the Feast tomorrow, I'm going to have some cavatelli and Italian ice for you. Ciao~

And the prize goes to...

I’m sure you’ve probably heard the news by now. Archie is marrying Veronica and kicking Betty to the curb. And it only took him 67 years to make up his mind.

To be honest, I never understood what either one of those hotties saw in that klutzy carrot top.



When I was younger, I used to imagine what it would be like to be a student at Riverdale High. I secretly pined for Reggie Mantle with his slick black hair and good looks. He was dreamy.



I wanted to be beautiful blue-black haired Veronica, asserting my sexual prowess on all the boys as I strutted around in my designer clothing.



That stupid girl next door Betty made me sick. Look at me. I'm so sugary sweet and I can even repair cars. It seemed almost inevitable that Archie would settle down with loyal, practical, tambourine playing Betty but I guess it wasn't meant to be. He proposed to lovely Veronica instead.

But you know what, Betty, don't feel too bad. There really is no "happy ever after."

Archie and Veronica will wed, buy a home and start their life together. Archie will feel emasculated that Veronica's trust fund brings more money to their household than his job so he will take a position with Veronica's father at Lodge Industries.

Archie will start working so much that Veronica begins to feel neglected and can no longer fill that void with shopping. She'll turn to old friend, Chuck Clayton, who is now the art teacher at Riverdale High since he got laid off from his graphic design job.



They get caught having sex in Chuck's classroom after hours by Mr. Svenson, Riverdale High's custodian, who blackmails them and demands $100,000 to keep quiet. "You vill give me za money."

Archie discovers the wire transfer and confronts Veronica. She tells him about Chuck and he agrees to try to salvage things by going to counseling. Veronica thinks it will bring them close again if they have a baby so she gets pregnant.

After the baby is born, Archie is so disgusted by how much weight Veronica has gained that he starts having an affair with Midge, who has divorced Moose.



Midge tells Archie that she wants to try to work it out with Moose now that he's kicked his steroid habit. The next night, Archie is pulled over for speeding and is wearing a cheerleading uniform and a wig.

"Sir, I need to see your license and registration, please. Where were you headed this evening?"

"To see my boyfriend, Jughead."

See, Betty? Dry those tears, girlfriend.

Stop the madness

My friend Nancy at f8hasit posted on her blog about a really unfortunate incident that happened in her city regarding the police and an innocent dog.

I, too, used to live in Lakewood, OH where this occured and I loved it. It's a very family friendly city and sits right on the shores of Lake Erie. Unfortunately, you can't enjoy that beautiful lakefront with your dog because the city doesn't allow it.

I knew they had this crazy ordinance about "no dogs in any city parks" and that they recently banned pit bulls but what happened last week was so over the top and inexcusable, that I had to share it with you here.

Please read Nancy's post here and take action if you can.

Dogs everywhere thank you!

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.

One Ringy Dingy

I needed to call Home Depot a few days ago. I reached for the phone to call information and I thought, Why waste the money to call 411 when I can just look it up in a phone book?

I went into the kitchen to get one and I pulled out the first one in a pile of phone books that were in the drawer.

Here we go. White pages in front, yellow in the back. I checked the white pages first.




H.....H-A......H-E.....H-O.....Hmm...no Home Depot.

Guess I'll check the yellow pages in the back.

Hardware Store....nope

Home Improvement....nope

What the heck? What else could it be under?

Paint? nope

Lumber? nope

Okay, I wasn't going to find it there so I pulled out the next phone book.

This one was yellow pages in the front, white in the back.



Again, I checked the white first.

H......H-A......H-E......H-O......nuthin'.

I flipped it shut to check out the title. Maybe I was looking at a residential book. Nope. "Greater Cleveland Business Listings."

I opened it again but this time to the yellow pages in the front.

Hardware store....nope

Home improvement....yes! Home Depot! But there was only one listed and this one was 35 minutes away. My Home Depot is 3 miles up the road.

I flipped it shut again to see if I was looking at a westside book. I live on the eastside. Nope. "Greater-Cleveland-Business-Listings."

Well, it wasn't in there so I pulled out the next book. "Heights area and Surrounding Communities." That's me! I'm Heights Area and Surrounding Communities. Jackpot!

This one was all white pages. Easy enough.

H....Hanson....Herman....Heisley....wait a minute! These were all proper names. I closed the book to check the cover.

"Heights Area and Surrounding Communities
Residential Listings"

Son of a bitch!

I threw the phone book on the floor and pulled the next one out, titled "The Real Yellow Pages." Well, it's about damn time.

I was feeling confident so I started with the yellow pages instead of the alphabetical white ones this time. I had luck with Home Improvement before so that was where I began.

H....H-A.....H-E.....H-O....Home Improvement. Home Depot! And there were lots of them.

Mmmmm....not my store....not my store....closer, but no.....nope.....where's that?....nope.

Son of a bitch!

It had to be in there somewhere. These were "The REAL Yellow Pages!"

H.....H-A....Hardware....Home Depot! There were a few more listed so mine must be here.

Mmmmmm....nope, not me.....no....is that still open?.....nope....

Son of a bitch!

I took ALL of the phone books out and threw them on the floor.



I couldn't take it anymore. What happened to TWO phone books? One residential and one business? Why can't I find a goddamn phone number??

I broke down.


"Information? What number, please?"

"Oh God, I can't remember. Let me call you back."

Bernie Update

First of all, I want to thank everyone for their concern about Bernie's well being. I know sending your good thoughts and wishes have had a positive effect on her.

As you know, she was diagnosed with Cushing's disease last month and was found to have an enlarged heart. She's been on medication for both and I'm happy to report that she's doing really well! She's got a spring in her step again and we don't even have to sit down and rest on our walks anymore.

We go back in a few weeks for another test to see just how effective the treatment has been so I'll keep you posted.

Kisses from me and Bern~

Did I hear a bell??

I went vegan for a few months and even though I found it much easier to follow than I had anticipated, I was bored. There weren't many sources of protein other than beans and I inadvertently almost committed suicide by inhaling the noxious fumes that came out of my ass on a daily basis.

So I started eating fish and chicken a few weeks ago. Oh, and ice cream. Lots of ice cream. Needless to say, I've gained a little weight back but I've hesitated to introduce meat back into my diet. Until today, that is.

I've had a very productive 3 days off and since I'm tired of eating a pint of ice cream every night for dinner, I decided to treat myself to a steak.

A few years ago, I met this really great guy that I dated for about 4 months. We'll call him Sparky, since he was an electrician. Sparky and I didn't have a lot in common. He was into NASCAR, sports, working out and tanning, none of which I had any interest in. But we had fun together and there was a very strong physical attraction.

Eventually, we admitted that what we had would never turn into anything more so we decided to become "friends with benefits".

The code phrase was "Are you in the mood for Outback tonight?"

We would go have a nice, thick steak and then come home for a little boom-boom. I was like Pavlov's dog everytime I saw an Outback commercial or heard someone say G'day.

I haven't seen Sparky in about 6 months and I actually got a little nostalgic at the butcher counter today at the thought of eating steak without him.

Can I just tell you, eating that steak was like a religious experience for me? I had forgotten how much I missed it and how good it could be. I even got a little "tingly tingly" down there.

That got me thinking that maybe I was worshipping the wrong meat all that time. Maybe I was actually turned on by the beef and not Sparky?



I wonder if it's legal to marry a cow?

If so, I'll have to add this to the registry.

Stop...you're making me blush

Well, well...I'm going to have to take some of my Precious Moments figurines out of my curio cabinet so my awards will have more space.

Thank you, Nancy at f8hasit, for The Premium Meme Award. The guidelines of the Premium Meme Award are to list 7 of your personality traits, as evidenced on your blog, and then pass the award on to 7 other blogs with notable personality.

Here's my list:

1. Independent: I'm 43 and I've never been married. I own my own home, toolbox, lawnmower and snowshovel. I can walk away from a relationship if it isn't working out and I can kill my own spiders. Yes, I scream when I'm doing it but they end up DEAD. The spiders, I mean.

2. Humorous: I think this one's obvious, She said with humility.

3. Dependable: I'm the one you call in the middle of the night when you lock yourself out of the house. I never fall back asleep and leave you stranded.

4. Imaginative: You should SEE the wonderful life I'm living in my head.

5. Sensitive: Probably hard to believe, but I cry at the drop of a hat. Except at work. I wait to get my office first.

6. Self-centered: See #1.

7. Moody: If I say I'm in a bad mood, just walk away..

I would like to present this important award to the following amazing bloggers. I won't give you an idea of what their blogs are about because they're all works of art and should be interpreted by the reader.

** Colette at My Babcia's Babushka

** Kathryn at From the Inside Out

**Deborah at The Peach Tart

Yes...yes, I was supposed to pick 7 and I'm sure I could probably pick 20 but you know what, that's a lot of work. I'm the guy who breaks chain letters and doesn't forward emails about how much Jesus loves us so it should be no surprise.

Enjoy!

Do you take this dog...?

I'm off for the next three days and I started making a list today of all the things I need to do around the house.

1. Clean out the garage

2. Clean out the basement

3. Take clothes to the Goodwill

4. Organize linen closet

5. Clean out kitchen cupboards

As you can see, I'm raring to clean out the clutter in my house. I just can't take it anymore. I can't believe how much STUFF I have!

And I don't intend to have a garage sale to get rid of any of it. We all know how those end up. Lots of wasted time and energy to make 50 bucks. I could probably make more money in 30 minutes on my knees at a truck stop. And then I would have the afternoon free to shop.

I decided to start doing an inventory of my kitchen tonight and clutter aside, I've come to a conclusion.

I need to get married.

No..no...not because I'm looking to spend the rest of my life with my one and only.

I just have too much mismatched junk. When I first moved out many moons ago, I got all sorts of furniture, linens, dishes and serveware from well meaning friends and family members. It didn't matter that my burgundy tiled bathroom had turquoise and white striped towels or that my drinking glasses were part of the Cedar Point and Cleveland Indians commemorative collections. The only thing that mattered was that they were all mine.

Since then, my taste has become a little more sophisticated but I'm always jealous when I'm shopping for a wedding gift and perusing the couples' registry. There's so much symmetry and flow to the colors and pieces parts of their future. I would love to have place settings that match when people come over.

Okay, people don't really come over but maybe they would if my shit matched.

So I thought about this. People get married for green cards all the time. Why not do it to get cool stuff for your house?

But who to marry? Manly man? Hmmm...he's already married. There really isn't anyone that I would want to be fake married to right now.

Oh, wait, except for Bernie. Now there might be some ramifications because Ohio doesn't allow gay marriages. Oh and they probably don't allow you to marry your dog, either, even though lots of people marry bitches.

I read about a woman in Ghana who married her dog. Literally. She decided that she was tired of all the "skirt chasers and cheaters". The whole thing was a little disturbing and made me decide that it might just be way too weird.

So Bernie and I have decided to have a commitment ceremony instead. We invite you to visit our registry.

**Attention all you with daughters. THIS is what happens when your daughter isn't married by 30.

The absent minded professor strikes again

My mother used to say to me, Je-sus Christ! You would forget your head if it wasn't attached. I would get really mad but I inside I thought, Who am I kidding? She's right.

I'm constantly misplacing things and I'm extremely forgetful. Every night before I go to sleep, I check that all the doors and windows are locked. Must be sure we're safe!

Well, I did it again. This time I left my keys in my front door all night, where anyone can see them as they're driving by because the door is nicely illuminated by my solar lights.

I must have a secret desire to be robbed of house and home and/or killed in my sleep.

10 more things you never wanted to know about me

1. I just ate pizza for the first time in 11 years

2. I grind my teeth when I sleep

3. I contemplate murder at least once a day

4. My favorite ride is the Merry Go Round

5. I'm adopted

6. I love the sound of crickets

7. I can't stand Jim Carey

8. I have a sno-cone machine I use all year

9. I love Halloween

10.I have no sense of direction

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

Do I amuse you?

As I've mentioned before, Cleveland has a pretty colorful mob history and it reaches to the suburbs as well.

This is Vinny.


Everyone in my parents neighborhood knows he runs the streets. Nothing gets past Vinny and everyone knows his name. He doesn’t slink through the bushes like other cats. He struts himself down the middle of the sidewalk, head turning from side to side, looking for the next cugine that he can take under his wing.

Vinny is considered a Young Turk and doesn’t get along well with the Moustache Petes from the next block. I mean, they’ll come together as a Family if there’s a rat that needs to be popped, but the Moustache Petes get incensed when Vinny acts a little too oobatz.

The Carson family down the street went to the shelter and got a new cat last week. According to the owner, Vinny came over to "introduce" himself but he must have thought that the handsome new cat would threaten Vinny’s relationship with his comare, Gina, because he smacked him around a little with his paws to let him know who’s boss. We're pretty sure Vinny put the maloik (il malocchio) on him because Mrs. Carson found this in their cat's water bowl on the patio.



Bernie knows better than to make waves with Vinny. On this day, we pulled up and saw Vinny sunning himself. He woke up when he heard our car and strolled over, beckoning Bernie to come and join him in the sun.

Bernie wouldn't get out of the car until Vinny was safely out of sight and she turned to me as if to say, What does he think I am? A babbo?