OH WHEN THE SAINTS GO MARCHING IN

If I Can't Have Heath - At Least There's Joseph

Joseph Gordon - Levitt

Dear Sadistic Pilates Instructor,

Listen, bitch, I hate you and your toned physique. Your shoulders are so muscular that you look like a dude, Serena Williams, and just because you CAN count to 10 then backwards to 1 again several times in a row without taking a breath does not mean that you SHOULD. Also, an hour is 60 minutes, not 70. Maybe next week you'll wrap it up when you notice the impatient aerobics class attendees peering through cupped palms at the glass doors, gawking at our sweaty, prone asses.

Oh, and one last thing: you SUCK. I want to punch you in the face.

See ya next week!

Sincerely,

The seal-like human flopping gamely around in the 2nd to last row. Well, the one wearing the purple top, that is.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~




Yes, folks, after many months of doing no more exercise than leisurely walking (to my car) and raising the TV remote, I decided that today would be a great day to hit the gym with a vengeance. Truth be told, I decided that last week was a great time to go back to the gym, but... let's just say that my gym bag decided to just take a nice ride in the car for a few days instead. I think it really enjoyed itself, and I gave myself points for even getting it packed up and into the car. Go, me!



I honestly thought about walking out of the class when I noticed that we'd only been crunching and reaching and balancing on our butt bones for 30 minutes and I was already sore and sweaty. When she started with the "planks," which are like Jack Palance one-armed army push-ups, I came close to blurting out, "Oh HELL NO," and slinking out the door. However, being in an all-mirrored room reminds you of why you are there in the first place, so I stuck with it.

I am happy to report that I made it through the entire class without crying.

Later, in the locker room, I attempted to collect my belongings and slither out the door before the stiffness overtook my limbs, but the (bitch slut whore!) instructor held court and said that we'd all start seeing "real body results in just 30 classes." THIRTY FUCKING CLASSES? 3-0? Goddamn it, woman! Lie to me and tell me it's three weeks to a hard body! Since I'm only planning on going to class once a week, that's a really long time to wait for results! Sonofa....

Anyway, now that the gym staff knows I'm not dead, I will try to go a few times a week. But I've said this before, and we all know how that worked out. I'll keep ya posted, though if I never mention the gym again, you'll know I've fallen off the wagon and am presently stuffing myself with wine and chips & salsa while watching Project Runway and criticizing those heifers they call models. That is exactly how I waddle.

This, that, and some other stuff

Well, hellllooooooooo, dearies. How is everyone on this fine Monday morning? I'm pretty good. We have lots to talk about this morning, and it's all a hodge-podge of random subject matter, so hold on to your hats! Let's get right to it, shall we?

Today is my baby's birthday!

Today my youngest son turns two. Happy birthday, sweet boy! It seems like just yesterday that I was sweating through a summer pregnancy, and I cannot believe how much he has changed and grown over these past two years. He is such a sweet, lovable little boy! I adore him.

Because I enjoy making you all laugh, here's a pic of The Bev, hugely preggo. You don't have to say it; I realize that my boobs were enormous. What? I know you were thinking it.

Anyway, it's hard to believe that two years ago at this exact time, on a day just exactly like this one, I was holding a newborn infant in my arms. I feel so blessed and fortunate to have been given two beautiful, healthy children. They are worth every stretch mark and worry line! Remind me that I said that next time I want to kill one of them for pouring a full cup of milk into the sofa, ok? Thx.

Ok, moving on.

Who watched the VMAs last night? Raise your hands. Hey, you in the back -- both hands where I can see 'em! I admit it, I always watch this train wreck, and last night was no exception. I actually DVR'ed that mess so I could watch the True Blood season finale first (which was just kind of meh, IMO. Thoughts?).

Obviously, everybody's talking about that asshole Kanye West's latest publicity-seeking fuckery, and with good cause. My mouth was literally hanging open when he stole that little girl's moment in the sun, and I just cannot believe he has such cojones! I had no opinion about Taylor Swift before this happened; it's just not my kind of music, but she seems like a sweet and talented girl. I can't believe he crapped all over her like he did! I do think that Beyonce handled it well later in the show when she called Taylor back up on stage and gave her some time to say her thank-yous; she's a class act, that one.

You all know I love the Gaga, and she did not disappoint! OH MY - she brought the crazy! The outfits! The bleeding, and the entire bizarre performance! The random dancer in a wheelchair! W-T-F? I freakin' love it. LOVE IT. I will go see her when she does her U.S. tour, even though I hear she'll be touring with... duhn duhn duuuuuuuuhn, KANYE. (groooooooaaaaan)

Oh, and how amazing was Pink?! Not only did she do an entire acrobatic act, but she sang LIVE - no lip sinquing - and nailed every note. Amazing! She also managed to perform in a glorified pastie and we never once saw her nipple. I know, some of you (& me) were disappointed about that part, but get over it. She's an amazing athlete and performer, and she hates Kanye too, so she's A-ok in my book.

Speaking of lip sinquing, didya see Janet Jackson? Eesh. One word for you, Janet: RETIRE. That was baaaaad. Also bad? That bitch Madonna calling us all jerks for hating on Michael Jackson. "Witch hunt?" Puh-lease.

Ok, this post is already too long, so I'll get off my high horse.

Another OOBH milestone! Today when I logged into my dashboard, I saw that I have hit FIFTY friends/followers! WOW! Thank you & welcome to Nicolasa. Nice to meet you! I'm flattered, and I know it's kind of lame but I DO notice these things and it does make my day, so thank you.

Now, would the readers from Philadelphia, PA and Maple Shade, NJ please stand up? I seeeeeee you, and I want to know you too! Truth be told, I have relatives in both of those areas, so I'm curious if this is them quietly keeping tabs on me. Thanks in advance for coming out of the closet. You know I love ya already.

Finally, I'll leave you with some art work from my oldest son, who is currently obsessed with Star Wars and Batman. I'm fairly certain that we'll be getting a call from the school any day now about his "dark" drawings, but they look just fine to me. What do you think?



Yoda is my favorite part. Heeeeeee!

Ok, that'll do for now. Have a great day, everyone!
*muah*

In The Mood For A Top 10 List - actually 15..

My Top 10 (15) Favourite Women In Literature.
(In no particular order although Anne will always be at the top!)

1. Anne Shirley - The Green Gables Series by L M Montgomery
2. Norah Linton - The Billabong Series by Mary Grant Bruce
3. Lettice Knollys - My Enemy The Queen - Victoria Holt
4. Judith Taverner - Regency Buck - Georgette Heyer
5. Darrell Rivers - Malory Towers - Enid Blyton
6. Heidi - Heidi - Johanna Spyri
7. Jo March - Little Women - Louisa May Alcott
8. Thursday Next - The Eyre Affair - Jasper Fforde
9. Gidget - Gidget - Frederick Kohner
10. Elspeth Gordie - Obernewtyn Chronicles - Isobelle Carmody
11. Claire Randall - Cross Stitch - Diana Gabaldon
12. Scarlett O'Hara - Gone With The Wind - Margret Mitchell
13. Bella Swan - Twilight Series - Stephanie Meyer
14. Elizabeth Bennett - Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austin
15. Philadelphia Gordon - All The Rivers Run - Nancy Cato

I'm not lovin' that!

Today there's an article floating around (har-de-har-har) online about how we greedy humans have almost depleted the supply of this charming little fishy, called a hoki. Hokis live in the deep waters off of New Zealand, and were thought to be quite plentiful until recently. Apparently, every time you've ever indulged in the greasy fried goodness known as the Filet O'Fish sandwich at McDonald's you've been eating one of these little buggers. Who knew?

"The hoki lives in inky darkness about a half-mile down and grows to more than four feet long, its body ending in a sinuous tail of great length. Large eyes give the fish a startled look."

Yum, right? As if I needed another reason to never eat at McD's.

In other fish news, did y'all hear about the sharks off of Cape Cod? Yes, folks, this is why I don't like swimming in the ocean. Everyone likes to say that our waters are too cold up here in the Nawth to get the big biting fishies, but guess what? Cape Cod is pretty mothafuckin' close. All of the beaches down in MA are closed and they've tagged at least 6 Great Whites this week, ranging in length from 6 to 15 feet. FIFTEEN FOOT SHARKS OFF THE COAST OF MA? Fuck that shit! I don't think I'll ever dip a toe in the Atlantic again!

Of course all of this shark talk makes me think of this:

Land Shark | Movies & TV | SPIKE.com

which is probably better than thinking about this:



Sharks: they're scary as hell, even without frickin' laser beams attached to their frickin' heads.

That is all.

Me and Braggy McGee

I don't get braggarts. I've never understood what causes people to toot their own horns or try to one-up others in a conversation, and I've noticed that it starts really young. There's a kid up the street, and because of his multiple annoying qualities let's go ahead and call him Little Douchebag - LD. This kid is always bragging and lying to Danny, and he blatantly lies to all of us in the process. It's kind of funny, except that my kid actually buys his BS and I don't like how that makes him feel sometimes. One time LD came over and started spouting off about how he plays Rock Band on the expert level, which is total BS. I love the game, but only play on Medium difficulty - the Expert level is ridiculously hard!

So we just said, "Sure, ok LD, have at it." and watched as he got boo'ed off the stage over and over again within seconds of starting a song. Jim and I just stifled our smirks and asked if maybe he'd like to try a different level, and the little turd actually lied again and said that he was used to Guitar Hero (which is much better, in his opinion), so naturally it's our game which is at fault, and not his superior playing skills.

It's easy to see right through 'em, isn't it? I wonder if they know that we see that they're full of shit?

Jim seems to attract the boastful type to him like flies to honey. Perhaps it's because he is so confident and non-competitive that they feel the need to best him. IDK, all I know is that the worst tall-tale-tellers I've ever met have been acquaintances of my husband. His cousin B used to be the WORST for that. He spoke fast, like a coke head, which only added to his resemblance to Quentin Tarrantino. B loved to brag about himself and his accomplishments, which gets old about 90 seconds into a conversation.

Last weekend Jim went to Oregon for the wedding of an old college friend. A second wedding, as it turns out, since all of his college buddies are now moving on to their 2nd unions as they approach their 40's. Jim was really surprised when his friend T started yacking about his sex life with his new girlfriend, in vivid detail. This old friend T, whose wedding we went out of our way to attend in fraking Delaware just a few years ago, is newly single and dating a gymnast.

I'm sure you can see where this is going. Gymnasts are flexible. She is younger and they are enjoying the first blooms of romance, so they get it on like horny teenagers several times per day. The bastards. T apparently went into embarrassing detail about fantastic positions, frequency, and of course, tall tales of his own sexual prowess. He did his best to make his audience of college buddies believe that he is an epic and skilled lover who "opened the door and turned on the light" for his girlfriend, sexually. Yes, he actually used those words. *retch*



I was trying to think of something I might have been guilty of bragging about recently; aside from my glorious rack, that is. I'm sure I've bragged about my kids, but I reserve the right to do that whenever I feel like it. ;) Another thing I thought of was kind of bragging to myself, which I'm not sure counts. See, there's this radio program that I keep catching every morning after I get D on the bus - a caller has to answer 5 pop culture trivia questions and then the female DJ tries to answer the same questions. So far, no one has beat Kennedy the DJ, but I know the answers every day! I need to get that number and call in myself, because I'm convinced that I can beat Kennedy's smug ass.

Anywhooooo, thus ends my rant on bragging. We are all guilty of it from time to time, I'm sure. I'm not talking about the casual, recreational braggarts. I'm talking about the pros - the blowhards, the self-involved yahoos. Knock it off! It's unbecoming and narcissistic, and nobody buys it anyway.

I'm watching you....