Candy Is Heavy

Try carrying a bag of this stuff home on the train!

Today, I have spent almost as much money on candy, chips, popcorn and soda as I have donated to the Obama campaign. It's hard to not go into Walgreens and get three boxes of whatever because they're 3-for-$1. I have to get three boxes of each, at least. Plus extra Junior Mints.

And then I went to the grocery store and got every kind of potato chip I could fit in my basket, plus Fritos, Doritos (hey, that rhymes) and those honey mustard pretzel nuggets. Oh, and two bags of Pirate Booty. When I got to the register, the checker said, "Oh, someone's got a bad case of the munchies!" and I said, "No! It's for my movie night!" and then he said, "Yeah, that's what they all say. Ha ha!"

But it's true. It is for my movie night.

Here's the poster to prove it. I just made it. Many thanks to Bill Stankus for providing the graphic that made me laugh today!

***

Here is something that did not make me laugh today, and if you got all worked up over yesterday's post, What's In a Name, then maybe you don't want to watch this. I just ate almost a whole bag of Pirate Booty and I don't know if the stomachache is from that, or from this video.



At least they weren't saying he should be killed.

Luck Be a Lady

Good news! My luck is changing!

I just got a gigantic bird shit dropping on my favorite sweater while I was minding my own goddamn business and going for a little walk to get some fresh air.

I am convinced that this is the giantest bird poo ever, but since this is the first time a bird has pooped on me, of course it is going to color my opinion of how large a poop it is.

Not to be totally shallow (but what the hell), but I looked really cute today. I was very stylish in peep-toed lizard pumps, a denim pencil skirt, a crisp white blouse and then my favorite sweater. And Kat just did my hair yesterday so I am still basking in the glow of my hair's sleekdom fabulousness.

Thank god it didn't crap in my hair or I would have really lost it.

So right after the poop, these two young touristy guys standing next to me smiled and laughed (but not meanly, they were sympathetic) as I scrambled to the nearby hot dog cart to grab a bunch of napkins. I was picturing the poop oozing through my sweater and then possibly touching my skin, like when the acid alien blood eats through the metal in the spaceship in the movie Alien.

The happy couple laughing and eating their hot dogs were totally oblivious to my desperate need for napkins and they were in my freaking way and blocking the napkin dispenser. I wanted to howl at them.

Meanwhile, the nice touristy guys slightly ogled me while I took off my sweater, and they were very kind to check my hair while I tried not to freak out and act like a girl. One of the guys was drinking Coffee-Mate out of a little plastic bottle (he must have thought it was some sort of smoothie), and the other one told me in heavily accented English that today is my lucky day.

In his country, when a bird craps on you, it's considered good luck.

I told him Well, I'm not in your country and I prefer to receive my good luck in different ways. We laughed together while I held my poopy sweater rolled in a ball and his companion glanced at my cleavage again.

Unfortunately, the sweater had been covering the button that routinely pulls and gaps where my bra is.

Tell me, dear ones, what kind of good luck should I expect to receive? It better be damn good because I almost feel like I need therapy right now, and I'm too grossed out to eat Junior Mints to get over it.

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Photo is Everyones Lucky number , originally uploaded by DxB★SecreT

You should have seen the photo I almost posted, but then I decided to spare you.

Wake Me Up When It's November

I just ate half a big box of Junior Mints, kind of a Friday treat.

And then I popped over to Damn Good Vintage, a new (to me) favorite blog to see some really fine vintage clothing and read some very wise political posts. That's a mix that works for me.

And then I saw her post.

I think I am going to throw up.

(In case you are not sure what you are looking at, this would be the President of the United States of America giving a shoulder massage to the Chancellor of Germany. You can read the rest of the story at Julie's blog.)


***

Of course, I should be immune to all of this embarrassing, bizarre behaviour because I check in with Jon Stewart regularly.

But this image is really beyond the pale, don't you think?

Below is a little Daily Show in case that wasn't enough. I'm off to get some Pepto-Bismol.



I'm debating whether or not I should read Scott Mc Clellan's book, but I'm pretty sure it's like the Daily Show but without the laughs.

Run Away, Tangobaby

I wish I had a great followup story to my Tango Angel/crazy milonga last night, but I don't. I did try, though.

Tonight I went to the Milonga That Shall Remain Nameless. It's one I used to go to religiously back when it was crowded and the best game in town. And then it just wasn't my place anymore, so I started going elsewhere. (And lots of other people stopped going there, too, apparently. Which has nothing to do with me.)

I had seen on the calendar that Miriam Larici was supposed to perform tonight. For those of you who have seen Miriam, or like me, have had the opportunity to take classes with her, you know she is a gorgeous, amazingly talented, and super-wonderful lady. Just to see her for a ten-minute performance was enough to get me back to the Milonga That Shall Remain Nameless. I was also kinda hoping that maybe things had changed and I would enjoy going there again. No such luck.

Not only was Miriam not coming (sounds like a scheduling snafu because I seemed to be the only person expecting to see her) but the place--for me--well, I'll be PC and say it is just not where I'll be needing to frequent anymore. I now have exactly zero curiosity about the place.

To illustrate my point, I have selected a video clip that will give you an idea of my feelings on the evening's festivities (or lack thereof), where the rabbit would be the milonga and I would be King Arthur:



So now I am home, in my pjs, eating my dinner (some Junior Mints) and singing this song. Nothing better than some candy and a little Mick to revive your spirits:



Better luck next time, tangobaby. (But my eyeshadow looked hot. Oh well.)

***

PS. If you want to know what I was hoping to get a smidgen of tonight, click here for some awesome Miriam Larici performances. Watch the 3rd and 4th songs especially where she dances with Hugo Patyn. I was there in the crowd (no, I am not going to tell you where), and let's just say that was so exciting to see her dance like that. She has so much energy and grace--the woman is amazing. And Hugo is not too shabby himself.

PSS. I am kind of amused with myself that I was able to bring together Monty Python AND The Stones to illustrate a tango post.