I have taken to deleting comments.  My rule, if you are going to talk shit & can't link your name to something, I don't give a crap what you have to say.  I don't come over to your place & leave shitty comments, I'd appreciate you not doing it here.

If I chose to "delude" myself, well, its really none of your business Skippy.  How & when I die is also none of your concern.  Please keep your entirely too introspective, shitty, fucked up comments & social commentary to yourself.  If you have a problem with what I write, don't read it.  You have that choice.

Anything I write is for amusement.  Lighten up.  I'm not telling you how to live your life, please don't tell me how to live mine.  When you have so much time on your hands that you go around to people's blogs analyzing things, you have too much time on your hands.  Turn your damn computer off & go the hell outside.  There's an entire world outside of the internet.

Word of the Day
reprobate - rpr-bt - transitive verb
1.  to condemn strongly as unworthy, unacceptable or evil
2.  to foreordain to damnation
3.  to refuse to accept

I have zero motivation right now.  I didn't even want to go to lunch today because it meant I had to get dressed.  I hate being like this.  If it keeps up, I'll have moss growing on my ass soon.

Well, I went to scan the news for something, anything interesting, but I found nothing.  If you want interesting news, check out Miss Ginger's place. 

Then I went to read Ryan's blog, but he hasn't updated since the 14th.  Being a rock star proves much more interesting than keeping up a blog I suppose.

I did read somewhere that Ahmet proposed to Selma Blair & she accepted.  *sigh*  Another one bites the dust.

I got a nice little email from my friend Lady with a picture that was taken of us at the House of Blues on Friday.  I look like a toad.  It is bar none the absolute worst picture I have ever seen of myself.  Hopefully, it will never see the light of day.

After much consideration, I think I might actually try to make it out to some of the Viva Las Vegas festivities this year.  If I do, that means a new day dress is in order.  My way of course.  I have about 200 patterns to choose from.  Ranging from the late 1800's to the late 50's.  I'm sure I can find something.  If you care to, you can look at a few of them here.  Just click vintage & then patterns.  I have then divided by company.  Please keep in mind I haven't updated that damn site in ages.

Score one for the dumpy chick!  What exactly do I mean?  Well hold on to your britches kitten & I'll tell ya.

Today I was at the Palms.  For once, I had a real purpose for being there.  For the last three days, many celebrity types have been at the Palms for the filming of Celebrity Poker Showdown.  Some crap show that's going to be on Bravo in either early December or after the first of the year.  No one really knows.  Well, I got an invite to get tickets to one of the tapings.  I didn't get my tickets because I really had no desire to be wedged between two old ladies that smelled like cat piss who were there to drool over Martin Sheen.  I'd rather have my eyebrows sandpapered off.

So today, I went down there for lunch & to see if I could spy Mr. Jack Black.  I looked, but never saw him.  He could have been knocked out earlier & decided not to sit in the Loser Lounge to make snitty comments about those that were left.  Who knows.

However, as I was walking past the Roller Lounge, I noticed a nice group of people oogling.  Well hell, I'm gonna oogle too.  They had set a poker table up in the back of the joint.  It looked like a fairly full table.  The only person I was sure I recognized was David Schwimmer.  Who cares?  Not me.  However, there was a tall guy, good looking & looked familiar, but I couldn't place him.  Standing behind him was a short dumpy chick massaging his shoulders. 

I thought "OK, probably a PA."  Then he stands up, walks around, comes back & kisses her.  OK, so she's a little more than a PA.  Score one for us dumpy chicks!  I was stoked.  Here was a guy that's on TV somewhere, but I can't tell you where, & he's got a non-model/actress for a better half.  That's a rarity people.

I guess when you have a decent size bank account you can have whatever you want.  And I'm not saying that all the women like that are total asses, but the majority of them are.  Then the fools marry one.  That's why attorneys do so well.  Pre-nups baby!  But why would you even want to bother?  Is it just for publicity that you marry the good looking chick that doesn't give two shits about you & only wants her monthly allowance & access to the credit cards?  Do they get married so they can have affairs to make sex more exciting?  I just don't get it.  Guess that's why I'm not famous.

Ahmet has been high on my list for many, many years.  For those that don't know, he is the younger brother of Dweezil & Moon Unit  (she just goes by Moon now) Zappa (older brother to Diva) & youngest son of Frank & Gail.  Back in high school, someone introduced me to the world of Frank Zappa.  My senior term paper was on the man.  That's where I discovered the world of Ahmet.  Its a strange, strange place, but I like it.  I mean, how can you not like a man that has a thing for feetie PJs?  I sent him e-mail once offering to make him some feetie jammies.  I was informed that he sleeps sans clothing & I was called the Pajama Mama.  I'd like to do naughty things to him.

Sometimes, you see people that make you realize you aren't as screwed up as you think you are. 

Word of the Day
vanity - vn-t - noun
1 : something that is vain, empty, or valueless
2 : the quality or fact of being vain
3 : inflated pride in oneself or one's appearance

By the time you read this, I should be well on my way to being nicely intoxicated.  Due to the fact that I will be out all day, starting with a trip to the wonderfully bass ackwards McCarran International Airport at noon.  My night will end sometime tomorrow morning.  Saliva show tonight, friends in town, lots of alcohol.  I'm sitting here with dye in my hair ready to pass out, but I still have a ton of things to do.  None of those things include a new journal entry.  So here, for your reading pleasure, is a regurgitated entry from my old journal.  Enjoy!

Everyone has their vices. Most people don't have just one vice. I don't care what they tell you. Mine are caffeine & nicotine. I also adore food, but I don't consider food a vice. Its a joy. I'll explain more in a minute.

I drink copious amounts of caffeine. Be it coffee in some form, sodas or ice tea. Only when I am sleeping does an hour go by that I don't have some kind of caffeine. Its half of the clock that makes my world tick. I didn't use to be that way. When I was younger it was a soda here or there & the rest of the time it was iced tea. I am a Belle by birth you & damn proud of it I might add. As I got older, new avenues of the world of caffeine opened up for me.

It started as coffee. Just plain Jane coffee. Then I started working at a casino where I had comp privileges at the coffee stand. At that point coffee became old & insufficient. I graduated to double shot lattes (don't steam the milk please & no I DO NOT want it on ice). Several years ago, when I was back in Texas, I hung out in Austin A LOT. There I was introduced to the world of coffee houses & quad mocha lattes. Yes, that's correct, a latte with 4 shots. Little did I know that my world was never going to be the same. Now, since I don't have access to decent coffee joints, I drink entirely too much coffee. Its not unusual for me to drink two pots in an evening & still be able to go to bed. But enough about coffee, there are other things to cover here.

As it was stated in an earlier entry, I smoke. A LOT. I wake up, I smoke. I go to the can, I smoke. I eat, I smoke. Basically, if I am awake, I smoke. I don't do drugs, I don't drink all that much & I don't party so I guess you can consider this my one really bad habit. I started when I was a teenager stealing Mom's Virginia Slim Ultra Lights & moved up the nicotine ladder from there. I am currently at Camel Filter 100's, but I do smoke Pall Mall 100's most of the time.

I'm also fat. Am I sad about it? Hell no. I quit worrying about my weight several years ago. Why? Because I don't particularly give a fuck if you like me or not because I'm overweight. I'm not that way because I have a medical disorder & I'm not morbidly obese, I'm just overweight. I'm fat because I like food. Am I obsessed with food? No I am not. I just happen to like all the stuff that will make you fat. I'm not particularly big on sweets either. But I am from the South which means I like everything deep fried & smothered in gravy. Food is wonderful. There is so much stuff to try, but when you are worried about your weight, you deprive yourself of all that wonderful stuff.

I have dieted. After years I figured out that my nemesis is the wonderfully yummy carbohydrate. If I cut that out, I would drop every last bit of this weight within six months. But you know what? If I did that, I would be eating all the stuff I don't particularly care for. Don't get me wrong, I like vegetables & meat, but I don't want to eat just that every day I am alive. I love bread, pasta & various forms of potatoes. My goal in life is to be happy. Not being able to eat the things I like does not make me happy. And just for the record, my blood pressure & cholesterol are well in the normal range & actually on the low side.

I'm sure some of you are saying..... but your lifestyle is going to kill you. I have news for ya Skippy, we're all gonna die sometime. You could be crossing the street & get mowed down. Hell, in today's world, you could be sitting in your favorite vegetarian joint wishing you were eating some deep fried slab of meat & get hit by a stray bullet. And you know what happens then? You die thinking, "Damn, I never got to have that chicken fried steak." Not me. No siree. When I die, I will have a gravy filled, deep fried pocket smothered in some more gravy in one hand, a beverage with enough caffeine to fuel an army in the other & a smoke hanging out of my mouth. Translation, I will die happy.

Word of the Day

It has come to my attention that my Canadian cousin, Miss G, hasn't a clue about the show Vega$ or its lead character, Dan Tana.  And Vega$ came to the attention of Miss G, because KTOAB wanted to know if I see Mr. Tana toodling around town. 

I loved this show.  Late 70's network super cheesy television at its finest.  You can still find it on occasionally.  Dan Tana was played by Robert Urich.  Basically, it was the good looking PI saves the stupid blonde (OK, so every once in a while there was a brunette) week after week.  I mean, the first six episodes referenced women  or love in the title.

Centerfold
The Games Girls Play

For some reason I was poking around looking for dead people today when I came across the Who's Alive and Who's Dead site. With this one you can only browse by category. Boring but useful if you need something quick.

Now Dead or Alive? is an even better site. You can search by cause of death. That's the BEST! Even obscure stuff like Myasthenia gravis (most common primary disorder of neuromuscular transmission. The usual cause is an acquired immunological abnormality, but some cases result from genetic abnormalities at the neuromuscular junction.) which is what Aristotle Onasis died from.

Yes, I am easily amused.

Let's begin the day with a nice little news bit.  Seems a gentleman (I use the term loosely & you'll see why in just a moment) over in Germany is facing some jail time.  Not so unusual.  Many, many people all over the world face this every day.  This jackoff may go to jail for teaching his black lab, which he named Adolf, to raise his right paw on command.  No big deal eh?  Let me put it another way, he's taught his dog to give the 'ol Heil Hitler.  "Tach would then command “Adolf — Gruss” and his dog would raise his paw. The Heil Hitler salute was also known as the Hitler Gruss — Hitler greeting — during the 12-year Nazi regime."  Seems the guy is an Aryan too.  Go figure.  Read about it here.

I was thinking about the bears & their candy addiction today.  So, I whipped up a batch of Rice Krispie Treats.  Of course I made them with white & dark Ghirardelli chocolate chunks.  No, you can't have any.  Keep your dick skinners off them or I'll hurt you.  That is unless you are Miss G or Cat.

Word of the Day
caliginous - kę-'li-ję-nęs - adjective
Dim, murky, obscure