If it looks like a duck...it could actually be a goose!

I don't want to hear 'Pregnant Man' again. I DON'T! Can't we call it a pregnant thing? I consider myself open-minded. Tell me I should think outside the box but I'm smart enough to know that if you're still using the box you were born with, you're a woman. No?

Question: What if you have a uterus and facial hair? Answer: You're probably a woman who's of Mediterranean descent in need of electrolysis.
Question: What if you have a uterus and pecs? Answer: Pecs or flat chested? That's the real question.
Question: What if you have a uterus and a man's haircut? Answer: You have a uterus and a man's haircut.

Halloween's a Comin'

So, Joe The Plumber and Joe Six-Pack Walk Into A Bar...

...and prove the Republican campaign really is a joke. What is the Republican's obsession with the name Joe? Palin said "Say it ain't so Joe", Joe Six-Pack and now a plumber from Ohio whose real name is Sam.

Sam Wurzelbacher is currently touring with the McCains to talk to idiots everywhere about what it's like to be Joe. EVEN THOUGH HIS NAME IS SAM! He should take the money he was hoping to make next year (250K) and buy himself an education. The man has no business prospects that could garner any amount remotely close to what he told Obama. In fact, if Sam/Joe doesn't get $1,546.85 soon he's going to foreclose on his two bedroom ranch in one of the more impoverished areas of Ohio.

I'm soooo sick of this election. What's next? Other than a vigorous search for another Joe crucifixion? Our decisions have been made. Doesn't change the fact that a country which should see the blatant and obvious decision together still stands divided.

Yet Another Bush We Can't Trust

Stand back government. A new MAVERICK is in town. Maverick. Joe Six Pack and Tammy-Sue-Hockey-Mom want to fight. Fight, fight, fight for American values. Maverick. So when you step into, Maverick, that good ol' voting medal thingy and, Maverick, uh oh...brain feels hot, must take deep Maverick breaths. Circuits are frying. Forgetting what I was, Maverick, told to say tonight at this fight, I mean, debate. Maverick. Central computer shutting down. Maverick.

The Hustler

Since I could remember, I always wanted to meet Audrey Hepburn, Anne Bancroft and George Carlin. We lose our heroes as we age. I thought I'd get to meet Paul Newman. Que sera!

Fingers are crossed Steven Seagal has a couple more years in him.

Gay Gaiken is GAY???

Models and Bottles

It's the end of the world as we know it. People are selling their tv's and bodies on craigslist because Lehman Brothers is history. But there is a light at the end of this long and dark tunnel. Bottle service is no more. Men who work the financial circuit and frequent the happening venues like Myst and Prime every weekend, are no longer required to shell out $600 in bottle fees in order to increase their self esteem. Question is...can they afford to ride the white pony? Sniff sniff.

YAAAAAY!!! My First Hate Mail

So many friends have written me asking why I haven't updated the blog. Well, I've been hit with some writer's block. But luck came last night when someone wrote my latest post for me. Hate mail is awesome.

"Oh, great! More nonsense from another blogger. Actually, this inane rhetoric is exactly what one should expect from a former Chicago resident and Grosse Point socialite. You're single? Really??? Let me guess-nothing but a long series of bad dates and even worse relationships. Bummer. I did like that line about the guy who was his own cock-block. Funny. But, alas, just a small glint of light in an otherwise murky void. I bet most of your friends are alcoholics, yes?"

If I had a dime for everytime I've been called a murky void...sheesh! This bag of nuts is either a) Blatantly crazy without friends or family to talk sense into them b) An obese cat collector c) A Born-Again Christian d) Someone who lost their way while enroute to The Huffington Post or some other blog that actually is meant for information and not stupid entertainment...like my blog.

Of course, since the only people who read my blog are my alcoholic friends, I regard this post by far the most entertaining edition to my "small glint of light". Keep the hate mail coming. Love it ; )

Too Fat To Serve Peanuts

Who the hell do Air India think they are? News has hit the airwaves that they are firing flight attendants for being too fat. I flew Air India once...ONCE! It smelled like every passenger was using curry powder to keep their arm-pits dry and I kept waiting for a chicken to pop out of an overhead compartment. Babies crying to my left. Babies crying to my right. The flight attendants were the only redeeming aspect of the flight. They always smiled. They begged me to eat when I turned down my meal "Ah you shuh? It's vedy good". And, here's the best part, when they bring you your free booze they give you two, not one, TWO mini-bottles at once. No hunting them down when the first cocktail is done. Just pop your Xanax, drink your cheap wine and let the smells and sounds wash away. So, if the bulky flight attendants are the best part of the flight, who cares how big they are?

CASE DISMISSED

Shock fought the law and the Shock won. And guess what? I'd do it all over again, baby. They can try all they want but they can't stop me from being a good samaritan. Boo-YAH!

For those who don't know what I'm referring to, scroll down to -Spending My B-Day in a Courthouse-. Enjoy!