Why I Hate Everything About Madonna

Ok, I don't REALLY hate Madonna. I think she's a very talented, innovative attention whore. She's been a strong force in the music industry since before I was born, I get it - I respect her as a musician; I loathe her as an icon.

It all started my senior year in high school, when I and my fellow pageant contestants were subjected to months of brainwashing tactics aimed at learning ridiculously repetitive moves for our opening number - you guessed it - Vogue.

*Step, Step, turn, step, step, fan your butt like you just farted and don't want anyone to smell it, step, step, turn* (no joke)

I still can't hear that song without cringing and dying a little inside.

Then there's the whole thing of the former Ms. Cone Boobs (yea, like being bra less in an air conditioned place with half naked backup dancers running around isn't dangerous enough) finding religion. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for someone finding faith, but - Madonna + Koballa = Huh? Yea, I don't know.

The final straw however was the widely publicized gag-inducing tongue swap with Britney. WHAT THE HELL? Come on Madonna, really - if you were any more desperate to use Brit for media coverage, you'd be Kevin Federline.

Ugh, and that video with Justin Timberlake (I can't even remember what it was, I tried that hard to block it completely from my memory) - nevermind, I don't even want to think about it.

I have to go take a shower now, I feel icky.

Derailed Diet Excuses That Just Don't Work

This had to pop up sooner or later, what with my making fun of whiny heavy people who are only heavy through their own lack of will power (and I can say that, as I've had to jump back on the diet bandwagon myself because of some poor diet choices - damn you, Hershey's Kisses in 5 billion flavors).

So, I've compiled a list of all the derailed diet excuses that I can and will laugh at if I hear you try to use them:

MY CLOTHES ARE SHRINKING. I'll admit, I've (half jokingly) used this one myself before - but - WHAT? Unless you stumbled across some miracle fabric in the "Beyond" section of Bed, Bath & Beyond - that's your ass growing - not your pants shrinking. Step away from the cheesecake.

I HAVE KIDS. So? So does most of the rest of the world population. If you're feeding your kids lard-slathered pastas and feel you need to sneak bites and finish their plates "so it doesn't go to waste," consult a family dietitian - NOW - or you can count on being recruited for the "families" season of The Biggest Loser a few years down the road.

I DON'T HAVE TIME TO WORK OUT. Sure, you have a job, kids, etc. - but if you can fit in an hour to bake a german chocolate cake, read the latest diva train wreck gossip, or jump in the car for a Big Mac, you have time to work out. Here's a simple 5 step workout anyone can do from the comfort of their own home:

Step 1: Stand up.

Step 2. Walk away from the tv/computer.

Step 3: Grab a trash bag.

Step 4: Open your refrigerator & cabinets.

Step 5: Put anything that looks like it might taste good in the bag; then tie the bag shut.

Congratulations, you've just burned thousands of calories before you even ingested them!

Tip: Make sure the bag makes it to the curb without being reopened or molested. It will be hard - you might even cry - but your pant seams will thank you later.

I HATE TO COUNT CALORIES. Yea, unless your name is Susan Powter or Jenny Craig, that's a big *DUH*. You don't have to count calories, but if you're in a buffet line and the other customers are looking at you all bulgy-eyed, there's a good chance you just might be over-doing it.

If you're reading this, you obviously have internet - so if you're at home and find yourself being seduced by the thought of twinkies and fried chicken, here are some helpful words you can Google beforehand to curb those thoughts:

• Nude obese photos. 'Nuff said.
• Richard Simmons. Yea, this is the guy you might have to consult to shed those twinkie deposits on your thighs and bum. Be afraid - be VERY afraid.
• George W. bikini pics. Ugh, I just threw up in my mouth a little.
• YouTube liposuction. That's what the cottage cheese looks like on the INSIDE. Not pretty.
• Ali McBeal. I know, sickeningly anorexic looking waif - but looking at Ali would make even Kate Moss feel like Shamu and throw away her fork.
• YouTube Salami packaging process. I saw this on the Discovery channel - haven't touched ANY deli meat since. /true story

I'VE TRIED EVERY DIET OUT THERE, NONE OF THEM WORK. Yea, that's because fad diets DON'T work, especially if you're a lazy dieter like most people out there. Drinking 3 Slim Fasts a day won't do you any good if you're still eating steak and potatos with OR in between them. Diet pills don't erase the calories you rack up stalking the donut shop, and pre-packaged diet meals and snack packs are pre-packaged for a reason - YOU'RE ONLY SUPPOSED TO EAT ONE AT A TIME.

That's my rant for the day, happy dieting to all.

Until next time...

If You Give a Mouse a Cookie...

He'll eat it. That simple. He'll eat it, and poop it out in your pantry on top of something not well sealed a few hours later.


Both of my children have a Breakthrough to Literacy program going in each of their schools - which is great, don't get me wrong - but I've read the Cat in the Hat so many times this last week that in real life conversations I'm beginning to sound like I'm channeling Dr. Seuss.


"You should not be in here when your mother is not, quit trying to flush your shoe down the pot!"


I'm not proud of that one, but I did say it. Then there's the second bedtime favorite, called "Peekaboo, I love you!" It's a cute little story about a little bug-boy that gets a new kitten and hugs it too tight, then has to chase it down and find it in the house. By the time he finds it, he's so worn out from looking for it that he lays down with it for a nap (that's my favorite part).


Point is, I've been feeding my brain so many cutesy prose kids books that my ability to hold an adult conversation has almost completely gone out the window. Again.

This is a total digression, but I mentioned Stephen King in the last post - I've got Kingdom Hospital on my television at the moment and there's an injured man laying in a hospital bed being threatened by an anteater. It's not a possessed transsexual broomstick - but I rest my case, at any rate.

What would I do with fame like that, where when you have a lazy day you can just spin out nonsensical bs and people will read it anyway, just because it has your name on it?

.....I'd start a blog.

Until next time...