Totally Random Post

I got what Christy had yesterday, so the idea of BBQ tomorrow is enough to make me wretch again. In the meantime, me and my tea discovered that someone googled "driving in pumps" and found this site. That's disturbing.

1. Because why would anybody google that?

and

2. When did I ever have a post about driving in pumps. Although, generally, I do it Monday thru Friday.

Who knew?

It's Banned Books Week!

How did that ever get past me? It's already Thursday and I've lost all week to the celebration of reading everything I'm not supposed to. Yes, I am a bad little girl. Just tell me there's something I can't read and I'll have it read by tomorrow.

Don't worry, I do have scruples. I mean books that get banned in school systems for stupid reasons. I can't say I'm in a hurry to get my hand on anything by Larry Flint. In fact, his dreck I would ban, but not literature! Not stories!

I have read far more books that offend me from an artistic standpoint, i.e., the plot was dumb, the characters inconsistent or implausible, than I have because I have been offended politically, religiously, or culturally.

In fact, the only book I ever quit reading (I'm one of those hopeful fools that reads a book all the way through even when it's awful, in the hopes that it will somehow redeem itself) was The Exorcist. It scared me that much. Probably, some guilt was working me, because I hid it from my parents, and the book seemed to be able to glow in the dark. I'd put it in my night table, and I'd see the gree glow when it got dark. I ended up carrying it to the garbage container in the garage in the middle of the night.

Of course, I also got caught reading M*A*S*H. Sister Dawn found it in my desk because one of my friends who had older brothers and sisters had it, and I knew I couldn't take it home, either. She busted me and made me take it home. I hid it, too. But that one I did read. Not that I understood it, but I did read it.

I guess the nuns were the first level of censorship...we all managed to read page 37 of Jacqueline Suzanne's Once is Not Enough. I don't know if that counts as never having finished a book, since the object was merely page 37, but Sister Eileen found that one, and proceeded to read page 37, too. I think she was so mortified that she just chose to ignore the episode rather than deal with us. Of course, Sister Eileen had the kind of reputation that required no intervention anyway. We were sufficiently terrified that we finished the term without giving her a reason to discipline us once. I wonder if she planted that book in her next class to get the same results.

Anyway, this banned book site is courtesy of the American Library Association, that keeps a running list of the most banned books. I am pleased to report that out of the top 25 books, I've read 22. That includes the Captain Underpants series. I think they are clever.

If you are as quirky as me, here's the link to the American Library Association's Banned Books site, and my personal favorite, the list.

If you're a real maverick, you can vote for your favorite banned book here.

Bumper stickers, quizzes, and dogs

How ironic that I should be once again focusing on dogs. I must be in some other dimension--it's the anti-Bego or something.

A few weeks ago I posted my outrage about a bumper sticker, my child has more chromosomes than yours. This morning, in my driving stupor induced by too many cheesewagons, I came across a new bumper sticker: My child drinks out of the toilet.

I know you all get it. Kudos to you. I did not. At least, not right away. I actually sat there at the red light light and shook my head, huh? To further embarrass myself, there was a little picture of a dog on the bumper sticker. What a loser.

Cue Homer Simpsom: DOH!

Then, I found this quiz in one of those email promotion things that I joined about a million years ago in this spam-catcher email that I have, and I took the quiz:

WHAT KIND OF DOG ARE YOU...AT WORK?

Loser that I am, I mean, dog lover that I am, I took the quiz.

I came out to be a border collie, which amuses me beyond belief. Chloe! Um, isn't that fantastical? LOL.

Anyway, here's the description: You don't give up and that's your key to success. Though people might not always expect it from you since you're so sociable in the office, you've got success on the brain and you won't stop 'til you get there.

I'd love to share the link with you, but the quiz requires registration, so that's kinda rude. Nevertheless, if anybody is that curious about doing it, here ya go.

another day, another dollar

I'm back at work for the new term, so that means wearing pantyhose. After a great respite during the heatwave this summer, it was actually nice to get back into hose. We'll see how long I'll feel that way. The A/C is still on in the building although the oppressive heat outside is gone, so things are rather cool and I welcome the warmth.

The registration lines are huge, but got under control quickly, so hopefully today will go smoothly for the students as well as the staff. We'll see--I'm gonna be here til 7 tonight!

I'm working on some writing between appointments, and forgot to post the link to yesterday's Monday Musing for lazy Rob. I'm waiting for you to call me out on that [wink].



Everything else is going gangbusters. Jonathan and Christy are at UGA today for a choral workshop. I hope they come back with lots of Georgia gear, just to tick off a certain someone. On second thought, it might also tick off a certain someone else!

Teehee! Go Dawgs!!!

Cruising for some entertainment

Ran into this ad at YouTube because I've always been interested in how the media can take things from the past--movies, radio, whatever is archived, and bring it back to use in modern stuff. I loved how it was done in Forest Gump, and now they have captured Audrey Hepburn for a Gap Ad.

Just because I'm interested in it, though, doesn't mean I've made up my mind on it's artistic merit (ok, maybe I have, it's pretty cool) but it's availability as a free source is still up in the air. I think the younger generation feels free to use these resources more so than mine. I guess we are caught up in plagiarism and copyright uptight-ness, whereas they see it as something available and thus open game.

Anyway, the ad is cool, because, well, who doesn't love Audrey Hepburn and her signature black capris? And while I was there, I saw an Apple ad that I love for the message.

Lifeteen Bowling

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Hanging around with a bunch of nice kids isn't a bad way to finish off the weekend. Check out some notable moments--Michael caught the popcorn in his mouth--and I caught it on film. Which of the two is more remarkable? Yeah, I thought so.

My favorite has to be the synchronized bowling by Jonathan H. and Christy. Nice job!

Homecoming and homecoming

The Homecoming Dance was last night--reports are that it went well. The usual suspects gathered at a central location for 37 versions of the same group picture, and then it was time to party....

Meanwhile, I chilled out at LG's, which is a good thing, since there's nowhere else I could yawn and almost fall asleep during a visit and the hosts wouldn't mind. My life is just as demanding, timewise, but at least the complication of too many places at once has been reduced. I hope that by January I will have paid my dues in the college schedule department and I won't have a 40 hour work week scattered across 6 days. Yech. Then maybe I can have a life again and not fall asleep at people's houses.

Finally, picked up Vicky and brought her home for a while. The Deb and Flo Show has retired to the bedroom where they are clearly up to no good. Last night I eavesdropped on a telephone training session that was too comical for words, only to discover the same session going on at my house. New phones for everybody. I'm not interested in the doodads--I just want to have a more normal ring tone than what Christy selected, but I can't even figure out how to check my messages. Oh, and inexplicably, when I call Vicky, I don't get ringing. Instead, I hear Vivaldi's four Seasons. Very weird.

I attacked the hedge

And I lost. Can you believe I'm too short to finish the last little bit on the end of the house where it slopes down? Man, and I was doing so well for the first time trimming the hedge.

I'm not too fond of the vibration in my hands, though.

I'm thinking maybe this is the kind of thing one pays other people to do.

I tried it, mostly succeeded, and can check it off my list of things I've never done. Now I can add it to my list of things I'm not likely to do again.

Just sayin'.

Martiviri----Bizzzzzz!

So here I am at work, sitting in my office a bit bored--I did my filing, created notebooks for all my committees, planned the term--in short, accomplished a week's work in a few hours, and so I was about to reward myself with a little game of solitaire, when the phone rings.

It was Martha! Of Martiviri and Viviii fame!!!

It took me a second to orient myself, because I just got my new phone last night. Christy set it up with a stupid ringtone (stupid! you better fix it, Titi), and then suddenly, here I am talking with Martha for over an hour.

After all the important stuff, the kids, the husbands, the old folks, you know, all the catching up stuff, we got down and dirty and talked about stuff with real substance. We trashed our friends who've had plastic surgery.

There, now that's a typical conversation. Ok, maybe not typical, but typically quirky. This aging thing carries with it new material, you know. No more "Guess who likes So-and-So?" Now it's replaced by the catty "Guess who got a boob job!"

In typical Martha fashion, she pointed out the obvious: what good is it having perky boobies when the rest of you is hanging down to your ankles?"

Ah, such wisdom.

La Cucaracha

Ew. How badly do people want to be able to jump lines at Six Flags?

Hungover, and no booze

Ok, so we went to the Ga Tech game last night, and I'm really dragging this morning. It's a good thing that McDonald's sells scalding coffee, because I bought a large gigumbous nobody-can-drink-this-size cup of coffee, and I've been refilling my human size cup from it, and the coffee is just now drinkable. I'm looking at the little warning on the size of the cup, "warning: contents may be hot." Duh. I'm wondering if there is even a word in English for just how hot those contents really are.

Anyway, had a great time last night. I announced my intention to abandon my post at the busiest point, halftime, to go see my retro-babe in her tie-dyed wifebeaters and painted pants. The show was cute, the drum major hysterical in a gigantic afro, and the wild part, the fans, caught onto the retro theme and dressed in ways that I can't describe.

My dreams came true, and Elvis came to my stand to place his order. Sadly, we were out of fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches so he had to settle for a grossly overpriced Coke and a Jumbo Hotdog. Hate to say that the only jumbo there was the guy's paunch--he was really into the 70's Elvis. He chatted with us, and even serenaded me and another mom, so it made our third quarter. Vicky was lucky enough to be in the area (mooching food) and so got a picture with the celebrity du jour.

Then, Christy disappeared after Vicky smuggled her into the band section. Wannabe!!! She came back telling stories of some Budweiser song that I'll just pretend I didn't hear. Meanwhile, Jonathan and his buddies hawked drinks in the stands, but tips were meager at this game. They realized that there is a correlation between generous tips and level of intoxication. Evidently on a Thursday night, the students and alumni have not had enough time to really get a "nota."

Finally, had a visit with Jamers in search of free drinks [wink], and a disturbing conversation with Cecil about the lycra shorts he's going to have to wear for crew, and we were off, back home only to have to get up early and start all over again.

Georgia Tech Wins: We just went for the band

Fall is here!

The weather is finally showing signs of letting up on the oppressive heat. Last night we slept with the bedroom windows open. That is so much better than the air-conditioning. Although our house is known for normally being a walk-in freezer, the real cold air coming naturally from outside is crisper and fresher. It's way better, especially for sleeping. So I slept very well last night--aaahh.

Meanwhile, Frick and Frack, otherwise known as Jonathan and Christy, decided that this morning was the perfect day to go to school with as little clothes as possible. I'm wearing pants and a pullover sweater; they are in sandals and shorts. Maybe it's like that last call for alcohol in the bars. It could be the last time they can go to school like that before it gets really cold.

On second thought, I think it's because they didn't do their laundry.

So I tried to assassinate the dog

It wasn't even intentional. You see, I gave the dog a baked potato. Who knew that maybe that wasn't a good idea?

Well, he gobbled it up, because, well, that's what he does.

And half an hour later he's throwing up everything that was in his guts. That's when John tells me that dogs can't digest potatoes. Oops.

The victim here is Christy, who gamely went to clean up the mess.

I think I'll wait a long while for dinner. I'm afraid I made stew.

Avast! The world is coming to an end!

First, they're burning the Pope in effigy to prove they are a peaceful people, and now, President Bush has pretty much thrown down the gauntlet and let the world know in no uncertain terms what he thinks about most of the Middle East.

I'm not one for dwelling on end times and feeding the world is ending kinda foolishness, but just in case, here's some entertaining foolishness to take your minds off the real world.

Today is talk like a pirate day. I'm not sure I get it, but here's a goofy snippet from YouTube.

One God, One Mission

So this weekend the kids went on a mission trip of sorts into our community and did some painting and grunt work for homes and organizations that could benefit from many hands making light work. As usual, the kids think it's about helping other people. The big secret is that it's really about them--the skills they learned, the camaraderie they formed, the big realization that maybe there are different faiths and different traditions, but at the end of the day we are all sisters and brothers.

It teaches them, in a very sweaty, tangible way, that Christ's mission for them is to be His hands and feet. If they don't do it, no one else will. They discovered this in the before and after pictures of their projects. Had they not worked on Saturday, numerous families would still be living in the physical conditions they had last Friday. For many of our youth, that was a sobering realization.

The aches and pains of muscles rarely used to lift a rake or a paintbrush will wear off in a couple of days, but maybe the excercising of Christian goodwill will be with them always.

Here's a link to the project homepage--look for the 2006 pictures, and for lazy Rob, here's the link to Monday's Musings on the same topic.

The Academic Regalia Striptease

So yesterday I attended graduation in one of those command performance events (you know, the kind where the Brass behaves like you really want to give up a Sunday afternoon). I know you must wondering: who holds a graduation in September? Well, I teach at a college that still has the quarter system--this is the end of the academic year. It's like we are in Australia! (Ok, maybe not).

Anyway, the ceremony itself was a typical graduation ceremony. The faculty stood around making small talk until we were lined up for the procession. I was waiting for my friend Mary, when a whole group of us was hauled over to the other side of the auditorium. I guess the idea was to process in two lines. Whatever.

We processed in, all professional and stuff, all decked out in our Academic Regalia. We sat in the choir of a local church--The Cathedral of the Holy Spirit--interesting name, interesting church. It was a giant theater, complete with a mezzanine, LOL. Sitting in the choir above the pulpit really gave me the bird's eye view of the proceedings. It was a bit hot too, since the lights were hitting us full force, and the robes and hood were a bit heavy. I also figured out why faculty alway looks so solemn when sitting in a group like that.

Hey, I wonder what a group of faculty is called? Lions move in dens, fish move in schools. What do we move in? I got it: A Boredom of Faculty.

Anyway, back to my observation. We look so solemn because we are sitting on our hoods, and they are choking us. We can't even alleviate the boredom by talking with each other--any move in the direction of the person sitting next to us will result in asphyxiation from the hood, or worse, losing an eye to a mortarboard corner.

I knocked my silly hat off when I leaned over to my colleague to hear her comment, and our corners crashed. Hers was clamped in place by a series of hair pins, but I so naively thought that the circulation constricting elastic would be sufficient to keep the monstrosity in place. There was an advantage to my geeky adherence to protocol though. Because I wore my mortarboard correctly, it worked like a baseball cap visor, and kept the lights out of my eyes (remember we were front and center facing the congregation, um, I mean, graduates).

Anyway, the ceremony progressed as graduations are wont to do. It finished in record time, and then it was time for the recessional. Nice. Let me tell you that if it was awkward getting up into the choir, taking those steps on the way down was a feat. My friend Mary actually stumbled, and her hat went flying. I just took off after the person in front of me, and zipped on out.

This is the best part. If we were moving at a clip to get out of the auditorium, the trip through the lobby was even faster. Ushers had cleared a path for us on our way through, and it became clear to me that the boredom of faculty was moving quickly toward their cars!

Yes! We were done, and there was to be no hanging around shaking hands and maintaining smiles. Once we got out into the sunlight and away from the crowds, the real display started. Nobody slowed down; it was a beautifully choreographed striptease. First the mortarboards came off--I passed more than one dead tassel, crushed by the moving mob. Then the robes were unzipped, resulting, for some, in the difficulty of flying robes and those darn constrictive hoods. Mine landed on the asphalt, luckily black side down. The funny thing is that nobody was slowing down; it looked like some crazy academic relay race. Nevertheless, cars became dressing rooms, as the race to get out of the parking lot ahead of the throngs of graduates and guests continued.

A good time was had by all.

"I'm alive!" name that movie

Just got back from a "mission trip" in the community. Very lovely experience, and I will recount the details and pictures later, but, alas, I must go to Graduation.

Yeah, graduation. Who has graduation in September? Evidently we do.

I'm tired, and terribly sleepy, and still have a long day ahead of me, at 1:15 in the afternnon. When you consider that I got up at 6:30 am yesterday, and haven't slept, I guess I could say yesterday is turning out to be a long day.

Oh, and the fasha took titi homecoming dress shopping. I hear it was successful.

ads that don't add up

SoI have this yahoo account that is increasingly becoming a pain in the neck because of all the advertising. In fact, advertising in general is a pain, isn't it? I especially hate those pop up ads that take over an entire screen, and you're looking all over the place for the stupid little "X" to close the thing, and then it takes off into animated hell, and you're held hostage for the duration of the ad. WOW. I find them almost as annoying as run-on sentences.

Anyway, lately every time I check my yahoo mail, there's an ad for a mortagage company on the page. It shows a roof top, and it has a silhouette of two people dancing an obscene and disgusting gyration thing as they move back and forth across the roof. It's gross. Their movements aren't even so much sexual as unnatural. To make things worse, the female, who is chunky and therefore quite impressive in her gyrations, is also sporting extremely stringy hair, or they are going for a black demographic, in which case she has a really bad weave. It's a lose-lose for us girls. The guy is just as frightening. I mean, it could be Deney Terrio.

In case you are clueless about Deney Terrio, he taught John Travolta to disco dance.

September 12 of 12

Where I'd rather be at 6:30 am
alas, it was not to be today...

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Nevertheless, I could still be chipper this morning...after coffee at 7:15

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After dropping off the kids at school, stopping for a moment to admire the Stone Mountain Yellow Daisies. I guess they are a weed, but such a lovely weed! This is around 8-ish, as I head towards work.

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Of course, no morning commute is complete without a 45 minute delay thanks to cheesewagons everywhere. 8:30-9:00 am.

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Did a bold and crazy thing and started submitting my work for publication again. Perhaps I'll make a collage of all the kind rejection slips. At least the last one was actually addressed to me by name. Noonish? Who knows...it's finals week so I'm a bit time-afflicted.

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This is the view my classroom. Heavy construction is going on, so we are assaulted by noise, earthquakes, and noxious fumes. On a good day. This is at about 5:30 when my last class starts.

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By 7:30 we were starved. Somebody broke the rules and pulled out a giant bag of candy. As if I'd enforce it....pass the snickers bites.

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The commute home in the rain. Bleh. It took me 45 minutes to make a 20 minute evening trek. This is just after 8 pm.

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I got home at 8:30. Dinner was over. Hmmm. I'll remember that.

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So I had some make-shift nachos. It was filling. Sort of.

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Then I washed the cross country uniforms myself, at about 9. Why? Because I paid a lot of money for those two uniforms, and one of my wiseguys wasn't going to ruin two red uniforms by using bleach. That's why.

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Ah, finally my little smushy pillow...maybe a 5 minute nap will refresh me before tackling the foibles of posting pictures on blogger. About 9:30 pm

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BONUS PICTURE: BREAK

And finally, although actually middly, since it was in the middle of the day, I took a break and listened to a podcast.

12 of 12 tomorrow...today? The 12th!!!

If you don't know what I'm talking about, check out the mastermind's site, Chad Darnell.

Pretty much, just take 12 pictures of your day and post them. Then share the link so we can all see what everybody is doing. It's weird. It's fun. It's...cool.

Do it.

Oh, I forgot. There's a bonus picture to make it a baker's dozen. Take a picture of break. I guess what you do on your break, or a pause, or something. Of course, somebody will just take a picture of a broken vase, but go ahead and feel creative.

I have nothing pithy to say

I posted my Monday Musings over at Rosary Army. I put the finishing touches on an essay I'm sending to a regional magazine, so tomorrow I have to write the query letter and get it in the mail (duh, I write, I just never submit anymore).

Things around here are going well. It's the last week of classes so I'm a bit deluged with paperwork, but that, too, shall pass.

I have successfully de-cluttered the kitchen, which is frightening. I threw away stuff. Lots of stuff. It is so empowering. Tomorrow I intend to pitch anything that isn't moving in the bathroom. That should be loads of fun!

In the meantime, take this stupid internet quiz--which sportscar are you? I'm a Ferrari. What a relief. I was beginning to fear I was an Edsel.

I'm a Ferrari 360 Modena!

You've got it all. Power, passion, precision, and style. You're sensuous, exotic, and temperamental. Sure, you're expensive and high-maintenance, but you're worth it.

"Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

today's frou-frou moment brought to you by...

John, who doesn't understand the concept of less is more, so he dumped 4 times the recommendation of bubble bath into the tub. He ws run out by the bubbles again, when he turned on the jacuzzi and it exploded into a scene from the Brady Bunch.

I know I said I was done

but this was too good to be true. At least today's sightings have some safety measures. The guy on the sidewalk, incidentally, was spotted getting out of the chair and walking into his apartment. Confirmation that these are used as transportation. Man!

Star Trek lives!

OK, I'm a gigantic nerd. Accept it, I certainly do. Today is the 40th anniversary of Star Trek.

Wasn't Shatner, um, Captain Kirk "hot" back in the day? I choose not to see the bloated pictures of an old guy. Except, I suppose we all get old and bloated, huh?

Anyway, there are probably tributes all over the web today. While I admit to being a fan of the franchise, I've never attended one of the various conventions held for sci-fi freaks. Does that make me a lesser fan? Um, how about it keeps me in the realm of the normal spectrum.

Nevertheless, I admit to having dressed up in a gold command uniform about a hundred years ago when I was teaching yearbook. I do believe there is a picture, too, but you're never gonna see that here.

My real love was for Voyager, until "Boobs-in-Space" came aboard, and the series shifted away from Captain Janeway and became all about that stupid Playboy-Bunny-in-Space. I thought Janeway was a compelling character, conflicted, like all good heroes. Then the writers ruined it by having her do something that contradicted everything she had stood for: she went back in time to save Seven of Nine. Sheesh. I guess you could argue that makes her human. I think that makes the writers stupid. Just sayin'.

I'm over it. She's still my favorite captain.

Live long and prosper!

happy anniversary to us

Here is my knight in shining armor. After 21 years, the armor needs a little bit of buffing, but we have the lifetime warranty plan.

I gave myself a hug today

See my shiney sink?

Excitement as the students come in with their exams grades

My remedial students are streaming into the office, clutching their PASS notices on their exit exams for their course, and in the excitement, I deleted the post that was, in all honesty, probably way too long, so you, gentle reader, can thank them for saving you a dull long post.

I, however, will not spare you, and try to reconstruct what I was wailing about.

It's been a while since I mention good old Wheel Chair Man. The truth is, there are numerous sitings, scattered all over Atlanta. Vicky counts in excess of 15 in and around campus, and I see the usual suspects in the neighborhood and on the way to work. The truth is, I'm done with it--it has become so commonplace that there's no sense in always droning on about it. Let's just say I'm giving up Wheel Chair Man badgering for lent. Early.

Of course, I have to pick up a new habit to replace the old one, and a woman in Old Town has kindly stepped up to the plate and provided me with some morning entertainment. This woman power walks in the mornings. She is scantilly dressed (almost naked, or almost nekkid, depending on what she's in a hurry about) and she jay walks all over the place. I've seen her cross and recross the street at different junctures, so who knows what's up with her. What's crazy is that she seems to be carrying on a conversation with herself (I finally noticed the bluetooth--a status symbol for a segment of our population). Today, she was carrying on in such an animated way, with a dish towel waving it all over, that I thought she was being attacked by gnats or something. It was just an animated conversation.

I look forward to seeing her tomorrow morning.

Oh Rob!

Here's the link to yesterday's article at Rosary Army!

Weekend Update

Wow, a blast from the past--reminds me of SNL and Jane Curtain. Well, I'm just dating myself there...

Anyway, a delightful and busy weekend for us. I picked up Vicky very early Friday morning, and she came home for the cliche laundry duty. She told stories a mile a minute, and we had a pleasant chat before Ihad to go to work. she ran errands, visited John at work, and then checked out Jonathan and Chrsity for lunch. At that point we had to take the Deb and Flo show on the road to that culinary powerhouse, Casa de Waffle.

After that, it was pick up the laundry and back to school by 3:30 to get ready for the performances for the football activities. A show, a pep rally, and then non-stop ESPN action until the game on Saturday night.

We went to the high school game, which should have been a victory, but was a tie. I hate ties--they define nuthin'. The kids enjoyed their friends, the crowd, and every once in a while, some football, and I stayed on the visitor's side helping to train a new batch of parents for concessions. It was merely a warm up for the next evening.

On Saturday we arrived at Bobby Dodd at 4, like the good worker bees that we are, and immediately went into pre-game mode. Note, that our start time is 4 pm--kick-off at 8. That was the most parental fun I've had in some time at one of those events. One of the moms was just confused about the whole process, and so, everytime we got instructions, she was questioning everything. I should describe the typical attire of a person who has worked one of these games before, and this fine lady's get-up.

Me: no make up (you've got to be kidding), hair pulled back in tight ponytail. Long pants (jeans) to avoid sticky coke sloshes on the legs, thick-soled walking shoes with socks, light t-shirt.

Newbie: beautifully applied make-up (sure to run and splotch when the sweating begins), hair coiffed, curled and perfumed, pretty capri pants, sily tank top, and Manoloesque style flats, with a pretty bow (no sole, no socks). She was distressed when they gave her an X-L t-Shirt, and told her to tuck it in, and not roll the sleeves. Oh, and she had to tuck her hair into a baseball cap.

In spite of this caricature, she was great fun, and it is always a relief to find someone elese with a sharp wit to entertain us. Some time after halftime a large guy with the band came to get some food, and he was wearing the awful dinkle marching shoes (in white!) with white socks, and the white pants, which are cheapo polyester and have that awful bib so it looks good with the jacket, but looks atrocious without the jacket.She had no idea it was a band uniform, sans the identifying part (the jacket) so she was just amazed at the guy's girth with that particular clothes.

Because she is a classy lady, the only thing she said was, "That man sure has made an interesting fashion statement."

I told her it was a band uniform, and she was relieved to find out that he wasn't wearing it on purpose. Then she gave him credit for coming off the field and into the stands, "Well, it takes a man with a great deal of security to walk around wearing that." I guess so. I made a mental note to tell Jonathan that in a getup with white pants like those, tightie whities are not a good choice.

Anyway, Vicky was all over the tv that night, and she had a blast, by all counts. She popped in to get some food, and then disappeared back into the football euphoria.

We didn't get home until almot 2, thatnsk to clean up and then traffic.

Sunday was all about slumming, and today, too, could be a slumfest, except the priest woke our butts up this morning with one of his bizarre unannounced visitations. BAHAHAHA.

I think I will indeed slum it the rest of the day.

Crikey!

Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, died in what the media has described as a "freak accident." C'mon now. This guy has been courting death for years, to call it a freak accident is not very accurate.

I'd say, Darwinism at work.

I found him amusing, weird, and entertaining. I also thought he was over the top--but anyway, I guess if I was Australian, the Crocodile Hunter had to be marginally better than Crocodile Dundee, although, I'd have to let my Aussie friends have the last word on that.

Still, no one wished the guy any harm, and as is usually the case with thrill seekers, it's the family left behind to suffer. May he rest in peace.

Ga Tech will dominate (maybe)

but all I'm interested in is the half-time show! You can watch it, too. The game starts at 8 pm.





Ok, maybe I am a little interested in the outcome. But not a whole lot.