Every town has it's own urban legends and in honor of Halloween, I'm going to tell you about one of ours.
This is the road that leads you to Squire's Castle.
Fergus B. Squire was born in Exeter, England in 1850 and came to America at the age of 10. He began as an office boy for an oil company and later realized the American dream by owning and operating his own refinery. By 1885, he had joined Standard Oil of Ohio with Frank Rockefeller, the brother of John D. Rockefeller.
Squire had originally planned for a large country home to be built on 525 acres. This "castle" was only intended to be a gatekeeper's cottage.
The legend has it that Mrs. Squire didn't care for the country. Mr. Squire was busy drawing up the plans for his magnificent castle and, against his wife's wishes, began spending more and more time on the isolated estate.
Mrs. Squire worried constantly about being away from the city and the loneliness of being forced to spend every summer at the cottage. In all of her worry and agitation, she developed insomnia and began walking about the house at night, carrying a small, red lantern to light her way.
One fateful night, Mrs. Squire wandered into the trophy room of the house, a place that she usually avoided. No one really knows what happened, but it's been surmised that Mrs. Squire became frightened of something in the room, or perhaps even the mounted animals peering at her in the dim light.
Regardless, she began screaming in terror over something and in her haste, she tripped and broke her neck. She was discovered dead a short time later.
Squire was distraught and blamed himself for his wife's death. He abandoned the plans for the house and went back to the city, never returning to the cottage again.
People who knew of his plans to build the grand summer home started calling the cottage "Squire's Castle".
Her ghost is believed to still wander the castle at night and people have reported seeing her red lantern and hearing her screams. In 1925, the Cleveland Metroparks purchased the property and removed the windows, flooring and any other items that might be attractive to thieves.
On this day, the only ghost I saw was Adolph Hitler.
C Cleveland
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Stand by who?
Thursday, October 29, 2009
I'm a huge music fan and I like a lot different genres. There's nothing like turning the radio on and hearing a song that takes you back to a person, place or time that is indelibly etched in your mind. I tend to listen to one style of music for a while and then move onto another. I don't like to mix my music or my men.
Right now, I'm into country music.
I was never really a country music fan until I worked in a sales office where the sales manager piped it in over the loudspeaker. I wasn't sure if he was trying to motivate us or torture us but the more I listened to it, the more I grew to like it. Besides, who doesn't love, "All My Ex's Live in Texas"?
I love the way music illustrates emotions and circumstances and how it reflects the common attitude of a generation. Let's look at the evolution of women and relationships in country music.
My first memory of a country classic that depicted a woman's "role" was the 1968 song, "Stand by Your Man" by Tammy Wynette.
Yes, if you wanted to keep a man, this was what you had to do:
You'll have bad times
And he'll have good times
Doing things that you don't understand
But if you love him you'll forgive him
Even though he's hard to understand
And if you love him
Oh be proud of him
Cause after all he's just a man
Did you get the message, ladies? He's gonna be a dick, but cut him some slack cuz he's just a man and men are dicks. Get over it.
Fast forward to 1986 and the lovely ditty, "Whoever's in New England" by Reba McEntire. This was Reba before she had a hit show and a clothing line.
When whoever's in New England is through with you
And Boston finds better things to do
You know its not too late 'cause you'll always have a place to come back to
When whoever's in New Englands through with you
You can tell these are the daughters of the women who listened to "Stand by Your Man". The message here is that the man is the provider and if he wants to boink women while he's away on business trips, that's okay, as long as he comes back home to you.
Women today are the daughters and granddaughters of the ones who believed all that rubbish. They don't sit back and stand by their men when they're behaving badly. And they know how to take matters into their own hands.
Oh, yes, we've come a long way, baby. Let this be a lesson, boys.
Right now, I'm into country music.
I was never really a country music fan until I worked in a sales office where the sales manager piped it in over the loudspeaker. I wasn't sure if he was trying to motivate us or torture us but the more I listened to it, the more I grew to like it. Besides, who doesn't love, "All My Ex's Live in Texas"?
I love the way music illustrates emotions and circumstances and how it reflects the common attitude of a generation. Let's look at the evolution of women and relationships in country music.
My first memory of a country classic that depicted a woman's "role" was the 1968 song, "Stand by Your Man" by Tammy Wynette.
Yes, if you wanted to keep a man, this was what you had to do:
You'll have bad times
And he'll have good times
Doing things that you don't understand
But if you love him you'll forgive him
Even though he's hard to understand
And if you love him
Oh be proud of him
Cause after all he's just a man
Did you get the message, ladies? He's gonna be a dick, but cut him some slack cuz he's just a man and men are dicks. Get over it.
Fast forward to 1986 and the lovely ditty, "Whoever's in New England" by Reba McEntire. This was Reba before she had a hit show and a clothing line.
When whoever's in New England is through with you
And Boston finds better things to do
You know its not too late 'cause you'll always have a place to come back to
When whoever's in New Englands through with you
You can tell these are the daughters of the women who listened to "Stand by Your Man". The message here is that the man is the provider and if he wants to boink women while he's away on business trips, that's okay, as long as he comes back home to you.
Women today are the daughters and granddaughters of the ones who believed all that rubbish. They don't sit back and stand by their men when they're behaving badly. And they know how to take matters into their own hands.
Oh, yes, we've come a long way, baby. Let this be a lesson, boys.
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Bella Bob Barker..Come on down!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
This is hands down, the funniest, most creative pet costume I've ever seen. And I LOVED The Price is Right before what's his name started hosting it.
Bella Bob Barker
Biggest pet peeve: When people bid $1 more than the contestant before them.
Quotes:
"Have your pet spayed or neutered."
"Come on down!"
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Gimme some sugah
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Know what this is?
A bowl of Halloween candy, you say.
Nope.
This is the third bowl of Halloween candy that I've bought in the last two weeks. I've eaten the other two as my fat ass will attest.
I can't help it. I just have a very compulsive personality. I always tell people that I'm addicted to sugar and they usually brush it off as no big deal.
Chrissy....c'mon, just have a piece.
Would you tell an alcoholic, C'mon...just have a sip?
No, of course you wouldn't, because you know they wouldn't be able to stop at one sip.
When I finish the last piece of candy, I go through the requisite self-loathing like any good addict. However, there's no one planning my intervention because I can still hold a job and I'm haven't started turning tricks for my next Kit Kat fix.
For all intents and purposes, I look relatively "normal".
You remember me telling you about My Favorite, right? Well, this addictive personality doesn't just rear it's ugly head with sugar. Do I need to spell it out for you?
S-E-X
Do you know how difficult it is to try to have a relationship with someone who's on the other side of the country? Oh, and that you haven't seen in 5 years? Can you say sexual tension? (Okay, I have to update this to avoid the confusion. It's not that I haven't had sex in 5 years, I haven't seen HIM in 5 years. Geez, what am I? A nun?)
Thank God for modern technology because we've been able to get very creative with our communication. In fact, I think some of the things we've done are illegal in about 5 states.
The good news is, that he'll be in town for the holidays in December.
The bad news is, that's still 2 months away.
Hey! You in the Nissan Maxima...Mama needs a Kit Kat, baby..
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Monday
Monday, October 26, 2009
Sorry to say, I have nothing remotely funny or creative to say today. Apparently, we jumped the gun with our excitement over Dad's prognosis. We met with the oncologist and it's a far graver situation than we imagined.
As I mentioned, my father is the most optimistic person I know and it was devastating to see the disappointment in his face when the doctor gave us the news. Being the overly sensitive wimp that I am, I made an excuse to leave the exam room so I could compose myself and not let him see the tears that I just couldn't stop from coming.
If we ever needed a miracle, now would be the time.
As I mentioned, my father is the most optimistic person I know and it was devastating to see the disappointment in his face when the doctor gave us the news. Being the overly sensitive wimp that I am, I made an excuse to leave the exam room so I could compose myself and not let him see the tears that I just couldn't stop from coming.
If we ever needed a miracle, now would be the time.
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Monday, October 26, 2009
Secondhand Sunday
Sunday, October 25, 2009
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.
"WELL, WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO?"
ORIGINAL POST DATE, JULY 13, 2009
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.
If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.
"WELL, WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO?"
ORIGINAL POST DATE, JULY 13, 2009
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.
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Sunday, October 25, 2009
One Lovely Blog Award
Thursday, October 22, 2009
My new friend Russ at Senior Minds passed this award along to me.
Thank you, Russ!
The rules of the “One Lovely Blog Award” are:
**Accept the award
**Post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award and his or her blog link.
**Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you’ve newly discovered.
*Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.
Now you know I don't follow directions and 15 is an awful lot to have to forward this to. Instead, I've chosen a few of my new found friends for you and I know you'll love them!
Lee at Hormones, Headaches and Hot Flashes. She's beautiful, witty and intelligent. She reminds me of someone. Oh, right. Me!
Christine at I'm Here. She makes me laugh AND she makes me think. She's gorgeous, too. What a great combination!
Britta B. Skeptic at Armed with Vitriol. Another lovely lady who isn't afraid to post pictures in her underwear. Love her!
Lest you think my lesbian tendencies are surfacing again...here's a handsome gentleman to add to the mix:
Indigo Roth at Indigo Wrath. Hmm..how do I describe the indescribable Mr. Roth? Just go see for yourself!
These are Bernie's picks:
Haley at Talk of the Dog. SO funny and SO cute!
Cookie and Cinnamon at Beagle Diary. This needs no explanation. Sweetness times two!
Enjoy!
Thank you, Russ!
The rules of the “One Lovely Blog Award” are:
**Accept the award
**Post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award and his or her blog link.
**Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you’ve newly discovered.
*Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.
Now you know I don't follow directions and 15 is an awful lot to have to forward this to. Instead, I've chosen a few of my new found friends for you and I know you'll love them!
Lee at Hormones, Headaches and Hot Flashes. She's beautiful, witty and intelligent. She reminds me of someone. Oh, right. Me!
Christine at I'm Here. She makes me laugh AND she makes me think. She's gorgeous, too. What a great combination!
Britta B. Skeptic at Armed with Vitriol. Another lovely lady who isn't afraid to post pictures in her underwear. Love her!
Lest you think my lesbian tendencies are surfacing again...here's a handsome gentleman to add to the mix:
Indigo Roth at Indigo Wrath. Hmm..how do I describe the indescribable Mr. Roth? Just go see for yourself!
These are Bernie's picks:
Haley at Talk of the Dog. SO funny and SO cute!
Cookie and Cinnamon at Beagle Diary. This needs no explanation. Sweetness times two!
Enjoy!
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The Griswold's down the block
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
1159 days to the end
Monday, October 19, 2009
You know I love ghost stories, slasher films and otherwise ghouly, goblinish fare. So, of course, I had to be the first in line to see Paranormal Activity this past weekend. It's one of those "based on a true story" flicks about a young couple who start to experience unexplainable phenomenon in their new home. The hype around this movie was incredible. You may have even received a message in your email inbox explaining the premise of the movie and imploring you to demand that it be shown in your city.
My bar is set pretty high for movies like this since I've experienced far more paranormal activity in real life than is usually depicted on screen. For a low budget, indie, Blair Witch type movie, it was okay. I won't be a spoiler and tell you what happens but you may want to wait for it on DVD.
However, the scariest things about Saturday night were the previews before the film started. There are two, yes two, movies coming out about the upcoming year, 2012. Now if you've just crawled out from under a rock, let me enlighten you about what is supposed to transpire in 2012. I'll give you the nutshell version.
The ancient Mayans, based on star charting that began around 680 B.C., prophesied that December, 2012 would mark the end of the world through some event of catastrophic proportions. The Mayan long calendar speaks of the end of one cycle of time moving into the next.
Now Mayan civilization, known for advanced writing, mathematics and astronomy, flourished for centuries in Mesoamerica, especially between A.D. 300 and 900. Its Long Count calendar, which was discontinued under Spanish colonization, tracks more than 5,000 years and ends in December, 2012.
Part of the 2012 mystique stems from the stars. On the winter solstice in 2012, the sun will be aligned with the center of the Milky Way for the first time in about 26,000 years.
This means that "whatever energy typically streams to Earth from the center of the Milky Way will indeed be disrupted on 12/21/12 at 11:11 p.m. Universal Time."
Will civilization as we know it cease to exist and only the fittest will survive the rebirth? Or will we all evaporate into the universe?
I think we should prepare, people.
Kiss your children!
Eat that second piece of pie!
Charge your credit cards to their limits!
The end is near! The end is NEAR!
Or....
Maybe the Mayans just got tired and ran out of stone to write on. Did anyone ever think of that??
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Monday, October 19, 2009
Son of a.....
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Okay, before you're all, "oh, hey, you changed you colors. Wow."
I didn't mean to do this. Note to self, Back up blog template before you go messing around.
Crap.
I didn't mean to do this. Note to self, Back up blog template before you go messing around.
Crap.
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Sunday, October 18, 2009
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.
"THIS IS A TEST. THIS IS ONLY A TEST"
ORIGINAL POST DATE, FEBRUARY 8, 2009
I guess you could say that I'm pretty comfortable in my own skin, albeit a little narcissistic. I can't pass by a mirror without a quick hello and I love getting my picture taken. I feel like I've been genetically blessed with good skin that's virtually wrinkle free and my boobs aren't anywhere near my waist yet.
When I see people who are my age or younger, I can't help but compare myself to them and there are times when I think, "Wow, they look really old. It's a good thing I don't look like that." But then I have to wonder if they're saying the same thing about me.
Am I kidding myself? Maybe I don't really look as young as I think. I met a woman who was exactly my age and I remember thinking how incredibly old her eyes looked because they had so many lines around them. She proceeded to tell me how it runs in her family that the women have no wrinkles at all and I thought to myself, "Do you not see the lines around your eyes?" Maybe there was something I was missing, too.
I've had long hair for most of my life and I've always been afflicted with short hair envy. I would see the girls with shoulder length bobs and pixie cuts and dream of how my life might be different with short hair. I've cut it three times in my life. Twice when I suspected that the men I was with were cheating on me,"Whatever you do, Baby, don't ever cut your hair" and then once a few months ago.
It's no secret that men like long hair better than short. Ask 100 and 90 of them will say it's so. I've never seen a Playboy bunny with a bob or a porn star with a razor cut;the longer the locks, the better the fantasy.
When I first showed up at work with my hair 8 inches shorter, I was met with squeals of "Oh my gosh, I LOVE it!" from the women and "Oh, you cut your hair" from the men. Maybe the women really liked it or maybe they were just happy that the competition looked like a little boy now and would only be popular with pedophiles.
I needed some true objective feedback outside of my friends, "You're gorgeous!" So short of stopping men on the street, "Do you think I look pretty?", I decided to enlist the help of a dating website that has a feature called, 'Rate My Picture'.
After the first five minutes, I saw that someone had rated me a 10. Yay! I AM still hot. I DO look great for my age and my short hair is a hit!
Five minutes later, I saw that my "average" was now a 5.5, which meant that someone had rated me a 1. My self-esteem plummeted. I AM living with my head in the sand. I DO look like an old hag. I sat there obsessed with the results each time a new vote was tallied. I left my photo up through the weekend and these were my results:
MEN
Average (97 votes) 6.25
18-25 (18 votes) 5
26-32 (20 votes) 5.25
33-40 (20 votes) 6.85
41+ (39 votes) 7.03
WOMEN
Average (13 votes) 5.69
18-25 (2 votes) 3
26-32 (1 votes) 4
33-40 (4 votes) 5.5
41+ (6 votes) 7
As you can see, I've only done slightly better with the men age 41+ than I have with the women in the same age group. Good to know that my option for switching teams is available if I decide to go that route. Because of my poor rating in the 18-32 range, it appears that I'm not going to be included in anyone's cougar fantasies anytime soon.
Besides, it's only the opinion of 110 people. I wonder what 100 more would think??
If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.
"THIS IS A TEST. THIS IS ONLY A TEST"
ORIGINAL POST DATE, FEBRUARY 8, 2009
I guess you could say that I'm pretty comfortable in my own skin, albeit a little narcissistic. I can't pass by a mirror without a quick hello and I love getting my picture taken. I feel like I've been genetically blessed with good skin that's virtually wrinkle free and my boobs aren't anywhere near my waist yet.
When I see people who are my age or younger, I can't help but compare myself to them and there are times when I think, "Wow, they look really old. It's a good thing I don't look like that." But then I have to wonder if they're saying the same thing about me.
Am I kidding myself? Maybe I don't really look as young as I think. I met a woman who was exactly my age and I remember thinking how incredibly old her eyes looked because they had so many lines around them. She proceeded to tell me how it runs in her family that the women have no wrinkles at all and I thought to myself, "Do you not see the lines around your eyes?" Maybe there was something I was missing, too.
I've had long hair for most of my life and I've always been afflicted with short hair envy. I would see the girls with shoulder length bobs and pixie cuts and dream of how my life might be different with short hair. I've cut it three times in my life. Twice when I suspected that the men I was with were cheating on me,"Whatever you do, Baby, don't ever cut your hair" and then once a few months ago.
It's no secret that men like long hair better than short. Ask 100 and 90 of them will say it's so. I've never seen a Playboy bunny with a bob or a porn star with a razor cut;the longer the locks, the better the fantasy.
When I first showed up at work with my hair 8 inches shorter, I was met with squeals of "Oh my gosh, I LOVE it!" from the women and "Oh, you cut your hair" from the men. Maybe the women really liked it or maybe they were just happy that the competition looked like a little boy now and would only be popular with pedophiles.
I needed some true objective feedback outside of my friends, "You're gorgeous!" So short of stopping men on the street, "Do you think I look pretty?", I decided to enlist the help of a dating website that has a feature called, 'Rate My Picture'.
After the first five minutes, I saw that someone had rated me a 10. Yay! I AM still hot. I DO look great for my age and my short hair is a hit!
Five minutes later, I saw that my "average" was now a 5.5, which meant that someone had rated me a 1. My self-esteem plummeted. I AM living with my head in the sand. I DO look like an old hag. I sat there obsessed with the results each time a new vote was tallied. I left my photo up through the weekend and these were my results:
MEN
Average (97 votes) 6.25
18-25 (18 votes) 5
26-32 (20 votes) 5.25
33-40 (20 votes) 6.85
41+ (39 votes) 7.03
WOMEN
Average (13 votes) 5.69
18-25 (2 votes) 3
26-32 (1 votes) 4
33-40 (4 votes) 5.5
41+ (6 votes) 7
As you can see, I've only done slightly better with the men age 41+ than I have with the women in the same age group. Good to know that my option for switching teams is available if I decide to go that route. Because of my poor rating in the 18-32 range, it appears that I'm not going to be included in anyone's cougar fantasies anytime soon.
Besides, it's only the opinion of 110 people. I wonder what 100 more would think??
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Would you like some candy, little boy?
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Okay, so let's revisit this whole cougar phenomenon. First of all, I hate the word cougar. And not just because I'm 43, smokin' hot and eligible for the status. Who coined the word anyway?
Why don't we have a similar moniker for older men who date younger girls? Oh wait, we do. Old guy with money.
Maybe we should call them Hefners? Why else would anyone come within 50 feet of Hugh Hefner? I shudder to even think of doing anything remotely sexual with him.
Oh geez! I just thought about it.
Damn! It just flashed in my head again!
Silk pajamas....smoking jacket....
Make it stop!!
Because I'm so disgusted by this whole "thing", I was really annoyed when I saw the previews for Cougar Town. Must we encourage this? I vowed to NOT watch it but I record whatever comes on before it so part of it ends up being recorded anyway.
I watched the first few minutes and okay, I admit, it was kind of funny. But what the hell happened to these women's faces? I've always thought that Courtney Cox was absolutely beautiful and that Christa Miller was cute, too. I think Courtney Cox had her eyes done and maybe a face lift but Christa looks way too stretccchhhedd. She's virtually unrecognizable along with Kenny Rogers and Joan Rivers.
Yes, it's tough to accept the inevitable landslide of every amount of skin on your body but what happened to aging gracefully?
And yes, I get that these women are on TV and the pressure is greater to look good and blah...blah...blah. But I see this at the local mall, too. There was a woman at our 25 year high school reunion in July who was talking about her face the way people were talking about their kids.
"Courtney is 10 and starting the fifth grade."
"I had my nose done at the Cleveland Clinic in 2006."
"Bobby is 18 and will be going to Ohio State."
"My boobs are 2 years old. They were smaller the first time, but I decided to go bigger."
WHA???
Don't get me wrong, I would love to have a little eyelid lift but until my lids droop so far that I'm unable to see, it ain't gonna happen.
I guess I'll just have to woo the boys with my charm and lollipops.
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Happy Early Halloween
Friday, October 16, 2009
This one's for you, Carlos. Not sure what kind of "asaurus" it is, but you had to know I would have something like this.
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Friday, October 16, 2009
Wake me at midnight
I've never been a morning person.
Ever.
In fact, when I was in kindergarten, our class was divided into the morning group and the afternoon group. By some miracle of fate, I was in the afternoon group and was given the false hope that I could sleep until 10:00 all throughout my academic career. What a rude awakening when I entered the first grade.
And it's been a series of disappointments ever since. Expectations of being on time for class, work, church, jury duty, court, sentencing, community service...where does it stop?
I worked in retail management for about 10 years and it was perfect for my "night owl syndrome". When no one else wanted to work nights, I happily volunteered.
Lots of people experience mid-life career changes so I've been exploring a variety of different options that will afford me the flexibility I'm looking for to indulge my sleep patterns and I think I've found it.
I'm going to be a vampire.
Actually, I might already be one.
I was flipping through my 5000 cable channels last week and I came across a woman who was discussing Vampirism and the study of Vampirology.
She explained that unlike the vampires of folkore and dark movie theaters, that real vampires (yes, she said real) don't necessarily drink blood but instead have an extraordinary ability to manipulate life force energy. Vampires are not likely to be intentionally malevolent, however, their inability to recognize this can cause harm to themselves or others. She also claimed that most of us know at least one vampire.
Think about that for a minute.
Here are some of the characteristics of vampires that I think I might possess.
1) They have inverted circadian rhythms; the internal clock that regulates biological processes in a 24 hour period. They're usually known as "night owls".
Check.
2) They are unpredictable, moody, temperamental and overwhelming.
Check.
Check.
Check.
And Check.
3) Some real vampires are attracted to blood and find different means for attaining it. Well, I don't like blood, per se, but I'm always up for a Bloody Mary.
Check.
4) They're photosensitive and sunburn easily. Next to Nicole Kidman, I am THE most Caucasian person you will ever meet.
Check.
5) Their relationships tend to be disasters because of their self-centered natures. See blog.
CHECK.
6) They may go through jobs and lovers like Kleenex. I'll refrain from making a blow comment here.
Check.
7) They have a talent for attracting attention. Case in point, Jim. And the guy who restocks the pop bottles at work.
Check.
So it's settled then. I'll give my notice on Monday.
I wonder if they have dental?
Ever.
In fact, when I was in kindergarten, our class was divided into the morning group and the afternoon group. By some miracle of fate, I was in the afternoon group and was given the false hope that I could sleep until 10:00 all throughout my academic career. What a rude awakening when I entered the first grade.
And it's been a series of disappointments ever since. Expectations of being on time for class, work, church, jury duty, court, sentencing, community service...where does it stop?
I worked in retail management for about 10 years and it was perfect for my "night owl syndrome". When no one else wanted to work nights, I happily volunteered.
Lots of people experience mid-life career changes so I've been exploring a variety of different options that will afford me the flexibility I'm looking for to indulge my sleep patterns and I think I've found it.
I'm going to be a vampire.
Actually, I might already be one.
I was flipping through my 5000 cable channels last week and I came across a woman who was discussing Vampirism and the study of Vampirology.
She explained that unlike the vampires of folkore and dark movie theaters, that real vampires (yes, she said real) don't necessarily drink blood but instead have an extraordinary ability to manipulate life force energy. Vampires are not likely to be intentionally malevolent, however, their inability to recognize this can cause harm to themselves or others. She also claimed that most of us know at least one vampire.
Think about that for a minute.
Here are some of the characteristics of vampires that I think I might possess.
1) They have inverted circadian rhythms; the internal clock that regulates biological processes in a 24 hour period. They're usually known as "night owls".
Check.
2) They are unpredictable, moody, temperamental and overwhelming.
Check.
Check.
Check.
And Check.
3) Some real vampires are attracted to blood and find different means for attaining it. Well, I don't like blood, per se, but I'm always up for a Bloody Mary.
Check.
4) They're photosensitive and sunburn easily. Next to Nicole Kidman, I am THE most Caucasian person you will ever meet.
Check.
5) Their relationships tend to be disasters because of their self-centered natures. See blog.
CHECK.
6) They may go through jobs and lovers like Kleenex. I'll refrain from making a blow comment here.
Check.
7) They have a talent for attracting attention. Case in point, Jim. And the guy who restocks the pop bottles at work.
Check.
So it's settled then. I'll give my notice on Monday.
I wonder if they have dental?
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Friday, October 16, 2009
Brrrrrrrrrr
Thursday, October 15, 2009
I hate to sound like an old person and harp on the weather but it's been unseasonably cold. So cold, in fact, that we've had to break out our winter coats.
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Vigilante Gardener Update
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Back in July, I told you about this crazy bitch who killed a fawn in her yard because it ate her flowers.
She pleaded no contest this week to one misdemeanor count of animal abuse and was found guilty by a municipal court judge, who sentenced her to 80 hours of community service and odered her to pay a $500 fine.
That's it?!?!?
It's a good thing I'm not a judge because my sentence would have been to whack her over the head with a shovel.
She pleaded no contest this week to one misdemeanor count of animal abuse and was found guilty by a municipal court judge, who sentenced her to 80 hours of community service and odered her to pay a $500 fine.
That's it?!?!?
It's a good thing I'm not a judge because my sentence would have been to whack her over the head with a shovel.
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
What a Wednesday!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
It's a beautiful Wednesday! I'm happy as an Amish girl during Rumspringa.
We got some really good news about Dad yesterday. The cancer hasn't spread so his prognosis is much better than we anticipated.
The man, in addition to being a Saint, is the most positive person I know. He still has a long road ahead but he has a great attitude and is determined to stay strong.
A HUGE thank you to all of you who sent your love, prayers and emails. It means more than you could know.
I promise to return to my normal self-deprecating, sarcastic self tomorrow.
Love,
Chrissy
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
I don't like Tuesdays, either
It feels like a Monday and I just don't want to deal with it. We get the results of Dad's test today and what his prognosis is. I just need to take a deep breath and have faith that whatever it is, we will get through it.
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.
I've posted it before but hey, it's my blog, I can do what I want.
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.
I've posted it before but hey, it's my blog, I can do what I want.
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Real. Like me?
Monday, October 12, 2009
I applaud Glamour for showcasing "Real Women".
And way to go, Dove, for your "Campaign for Real Beauty".
But, Playboy....
Apparently, you're attempting to broaden your demographic. But who the hell does that include??
And way to go, Dove, for your "Campaign for Real Beauty".
But, Playboy....
Apparently, you're attempting to broaden your demographic. But who the hell does that include??
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Monday, October 12, 2009
Secondhand Sunday
Sunday, October 11, 2009
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.
WHAT'S IN A NAME? ORIGINAL POST DATE, APRIL 19, 2009
My given name is Christine Jean. You can't help but say it with a little twaaang. You have to remember it was 1966 and right around the Petticoat Junction era so lots of us have middle names like Jean and Jo.
Anyone with a name that can be shortened into a nickname knows that there are usually lots of variations given to you by friends and family.
I grew up being called Chrissy by my friends.
My sister called me Kickie because I had a propensity to kick people as a child. Really hard.
My grandfather called me Christy, in his broken English accent.
My father called me Kissy.
And my mother affectionately called me, you Little Bitch.
When I got my first job at 15, I decided it was time to use my grown up name of Christine, since Chrissy sounded too babyish to be entering the workforce. I worked at Woolworth's and I proudly bore my 'Christine' name tag on my mint green smock.
I'm certain that my decision to forego my childhood nickname was the reason why Old Lady Evelyn, the crotchety keeper of the toy, pets and notions departments, chose me to tend to her fiefdom when she was away.
Most of my friends who have met me past the age of 25, call me Christine. Anyone who has known me since school or before or has met me through that group of friends calls me Chrissy.
I remember when I was 19, I worked with a girl whose mother's name was Susie and I thought to myself, What grown woman calls themselves by such a silly name? Well, I guess I do now.
I've had to endure the Chrissy Snow references from Three's Company.
Is your real name Christmas? Nope.
Then, in 1983, the movie Christine came out about a possessed car named Christine.
Christine? You mean like the car? Good one. Haven't heard that before.
I'm always surprised and annoyed when I meet people as Christine and they assume a nickname for me.
Nice meeting you, Chris. You'll notice no one calls me Chris and there's a reason for that.
I had a 6th grade teacher named Mr. Kidd who was 6'4, skinny as a rail and ignorant as could be. Our classroom was at the rear of a hallway of about 8 rooms and the school office was at the opposite end.
Back then, there weren't strategically placed copiers outside of classrooms for convenient mid-day copying. There was one mimeograph machine that the school secretary used to crank out duplicates in blue ink.
One spring morning, Mr. Dick, oops, I mean Mr. Kidd, needed someone to go to the office and have some copies made. I was 5'9 and chubby and tried to remain inconspicuous as my tiny people pleasing classmates raised their hands to volunteer. I was sure he was going to pick pretty petite Jennifer when I heard him say, Thank you for volunteering, Jennifer, but why don't we let Chris go? She needs the exercise.
To this day, I hear those words in my head every time someone makes the mistake of calling me Chris.
My professional name was going to be Blair Brennan when I became a supermodel but that didn't really pan out. My friend Debbie and I used to make up names and professions when we were in our early 20's and out at a bar. They were usually classy sounding like Bambi or Amber but then we never remembered them when someone would call out our names later in the night.
"Is he talking to you?"
"No, aren't you Bambi?"
"No, I'm Mitzy."
"Mitzy? Weren't you Mitzy last week?"
For now, I guess I'm just wannabe stripper chick, Chrissy Starr.
If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.
WHAT'S IN A NAME? ORIGINAL POST DATE, APRIL 19, 2009
My given name is Christine Jean. You can't help but say it with a little twaaang. You have to remember it was 1966 and right around the Petticoat Junction era so lots of us have middle names like Jean and Jo.
Anyone with a name that can be shortened into a nickname knows that there are usually lots of variations given to you by friends and family.
I grew up being called Chrissy by my friends.
My sister called me Kickie because I had a propensity to kick people as a child. Really hard.
My grandfather called me Christy, in his broken English accent.
My father called me Kissy.
And my mother affectionately called me, you Little Bitch.
When I got my first job at 15, I decided it was time to use my grown up name of Christine, since Chrissy sounded too babyish to be entering the workforce. I worked at Woolworth's and I proudly bore my 'Christine' name tag on my mint green smock.
I'm certain that my decision to forego my childhood nickname was the reason why Old Lady Evelyn, the crotchety keeper of the toy, pets and notions departments, chose me to tend to her fiefdom when she was away.
Most of my friends who have met me past the age of 25, call me Christine. Anyone who has known me since school or before or has met me through that group of friends calls me Chrissy.
I remember when I was 19, I worked with a girl whose mother's name was Susie and I thought to myself, What grown woman calls themselves by such a silly name? Well, I guess I do now.
I've had to endure the Chrissy Snow references from Three's Company.
Is your real name Christmas? Nope.
Then, in 1983, the movie Christine came out about a possessed car named Christine.
Christine? You mean like the car? Good one. Haven't heard that before.
I'm always surprised and annoyed when I meet people as Christine and they assume a nickname for me.
Nice meeting you, Chris. You'll notice no one calls me Chris and there's a reason for that.
I had a 6th grade teacher named Mr. Kidd who was 6'4, skinny as a rail and ignorant as could be. Our classroom was at the rear of a hallway of about 8 rooms and the school office was at the opposite end.
Back then, there weren't strategically placed copiers outside of classrooms for convenient mid-day copying. There was one mimeograph machine that the school secretary used to crank out duplicates in blue ink.
One spring morning, Mr. Dick, oops, I mean Mr. Kidd, needed someone to go to the office and have some copies made. I was 5'9 and chubby and tried to remain inconspicuous as my tiny people pleasing classmates raised their hands to volunteer. I was sure he was going to pick pretty petite Jennifer when I heard him say, Thank you for volunteering, Jennifer, but why don't we let Chris go? She needs the exercise.
To this day, I hear those words in my head every time someone makes the mistake of calling me Chris.
My professional name was going to be Blair Brennan when I became a supermodel but that didn't really pan out. My friend Debbie and I used to make up names and professions when we were in our early 20's and out at a bar. They were usually classy sounding like Bambi or Amber but then we never remembered them when someone would call out our names later in the night.
"Is he talking to you?"
"No, aren't you Bambi?"
"No, I'm Mitzy."
"Mitzy? Weren't you Mitzy last week?"
For now, I guess I'm just wannabe stripper chick, Chrissy Starr.
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Sunday, October 11, 2009
This is just over the top!
Friday, October 9, 2009
A heartfelt thank you to my blogging friends, Deborah at The Peach Tart and Indigo at Indigo Wrath. They both bestowed me with the Over the Top Award and lazy me is finally getting around to posting it.
So the rules are:
Copy and change the answers to suit you and pass it on. You must use only one word answers!
Once you have filled it out, pass it on to 6 of your favorite bloggers and alert them that they have been awarded.
1. Where is your cell phone? Desk
2. Your hair? Brunette
3. Your mother? Challenging
4. Your father? Saint
5. Your favorite food? Steak
6. Your dream last night? Sexual
7. Your favorite drink? Coke
8. Your dream/goal? Peace
9. What room are you in? Office
10. Your hobby? Blogging
11. Your fear? Spiders
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Retired
13. Where were you last night? Shopping
14. Something that you aren't? Skinny
15. Muffins? Chocolate Chip
16. Wish list item? Happiness
17. Where did you grow up? Cleveland
18. Last thing you did? Eat
19. What are you wearing? Black
20. Your TV? Off
21. Your pets? Sleeping
22. Friends? Blessing
23. Your life? Good
24. Your mood? Mellow
25. Missing someone? Yes
26. Vehicle? Honda
27. Something you’re not wearing? Bra
28. Your favorite store? Dillards
29. Your favorite color? Red
30. When was the last time you laughed? Today
31. Last time you cried? Wednesday
32. Your best friend? 4
33. One place that I go to over and over? Drugstore
34. One person who emails me regularly? Maria
35. Favorite place to eat? Mom's
The three bloggers (yes, you're supposed to give it to 6 but I never follow the rules) I want to pass this on to are:
Nancy at f8hasit
Kathryn at From the Inside Out
Phillipia at Writes Phillipia
Congratulations, Ladies!
And while we're talking about awards...I would like to discuss the evolution of a particular award. The award is called the Premium Meme Award and I received it in August. I forwarded it as the instructions stipulated and someone who forwarded it on confused the name of the award with the person who sent the award. Um, that would be me.
So, much like one of our favorite childhood games, Telephone, the award took on a new look and a new name. I was alerted to this by a friend who said, "Why is there an award called the I Shoulda Been a Stripper Award?"
Excuse me?
Needless to say, I wasn't the one who originated the award and I'm a little miffed that it's making the rounds in blog land.
Am I being petty? Mmmm...probably. But I'm guessing that most of you would be mildly annoyed as well if there was an award floating around with your blog's name on it.
In all fairness, I contacted the person who made the original error and I do believe her when she says that it was an honest mistake. I asked her to replace the award on her sidebar with the original one and I'm confident that she'll do the right thing.
So the rules are:
Copy and change the answers to suit you and pass it on. You must use only one word answers!
Once you have filled it out, pass it on to 6 of your favorite bloggers and alert them that they have been awarded.
1. Where is your cell phone? Desk
2. Your hair? Brunette
3. Your mother? Challenging
4. Your father? Saint
5. Your favorite food? Steak
6. Your dream last night? Sexual
7. Your favorite drink? Coke
8. Your dream/goal? Peace
9. What room are you in? Office
10. Your hobby? Blogging
11. Your fear? Spiders
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Retired
13. Where were you last night? Shopping
14. Something that you aren't? Skinny
15. Muffins? Chocolate Chip
16. Wish list item? Happiness
17. Where did you grow up? Cleveland
18. Last thing you did? Eat
19. What are you wearing? Black
20. Your TV? Off
21. Your pets? Sleeping
22. Friends? Blessing
23. Your life? Good
24. Your mood? Mellow
25. Missing someone? Yes
26. Vehicle? Honda
27. Something you’re not wearing? Bra
28. Your favorite store? Dillards
29. Your favorite color? Red
30. When was the last time you laughed? Today
31. Last time you cried? Wednesday
32. Your best friend? 4
33. One place that I go to over and over? Drugstore
34. One person who emails me regularly? Maria
35. Favorite place to eat? Mom's
The three bloggers (yes, you're supposed to give it to 6 but I never follow the rules) I want to pass this on to are:
Nancy at f8hasit
Kathryn at From the Inside Out
Phillipia at Writes Phillipia
Congratulations, Ladies!
And while we're talking about awards...I would like to discuss the evolution of a particular award. The award is called the Premium Meme Award and I received it in August. I forwarded it as the instructions stipulated and someone who forwarded it on confused the name of the award with the person who sent the award. Um, that would be me.
So, much like one of our favorite childhood games, Telephone, the award took on a new look and a new name. I was alerted to this by a friend who said, "Why is there an award called the I Shoulda Been a Stripper Award?"
Excuse me?
Needless to say, I wasn't the one who originated the award and I'm a little miffed that it's making the rounds in blog land.
Am I being petty? Mmmm...probably. But I'm guessing that most of you would be mildly annoyed as well if there was an award floating around with your blog's name on it.
In all fairness, I contacted the person who made the original error and I do believe her when she says that it was an honest mistake. I asked her to replace the award on her sidebar with the original one and I'm confident that she'll do the right thing.
Posted by
Bobby Allan
at
Friday, October 09, 2009
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