The "I Think Spring Has Arrived" Spam

Thank you Bebo and JJ for the following spam. Yeah, I now have spam being forwarded to me. Sheesh.

"There wobble is town only one thing which reading grieves me," observ "No, no, no," ring replied the wood eye protest daughter of the paralytic. (I always had a problem with Chaucer)

Better nights for less money... (Um, I get lousy nights for free. You mean if I pay less than nothing, I’d have better nights?)

Forget about your sexual lsoes (Forget about them? I’m not even sure what they are??)

Thnik muuch of yoruself, beacuse you wroth iStuper Vaigra (There you go! Isn’t Milton so much better?)

You will make her wet easier (Only happens if she’s not wearing her Depends)

Sooft Cailis. No problmes at all in yoour sxeual lifee (Lifee? Does this have anything to do with Isoes?)

Your female needs more? It's easy! (I got a female? Why isn’t she cleaning this house?)

You’ll surprise her with your Hulk (Lou Ferrigno, Eric Bana or Edward Norton?)

The Voice

I’m not talking about the voices in my head; this isn’t another Bud and Ernie blog post. I’m talking about the voice of an author, the voice that makes one writer’s work different from another. It’s what makes King different from Koontz, Roberts from Krentz, Shalvis from Crusie; the voice is what makes it possible for a reader to pick of a page, read it and know immediately who wrote it. The distinctive voice of the narrator, the haunting turn of a beautiful phrase – all of this contributes to the voice of a writer. When I began my journey on this long and winding road, I had so many mixed voices in my head. I wanted to be John Jakes, Janet Dailey, Stephen King – I wanted to be all of the wonderful books that I had read. I’ve tried many different voices throughout the years, some fit, and others didn’t. But in writing this blog, I’ve discovered that voice which is mine alone. I am a romantic comedy writer. It’s not that I’m unable to write serious material, no, it’s that I’m more comfortable with the lighter tone, the giggle instead of the tear. That’s okay. I’m never going to write that great multi-generational John Jake historical epic. My horror stories may resemble Charlaine Harris more than Stephen King, Sci-fi writer Jim Butcher instead of Isaac Asimov. Deep, intense subjects may be the form I read, but not that which I write. But that’s the kind of writer I am, I write comedy. I came to this conclusion a few years ago when I was attempting to write a blog post – a rambling bit about nothing, except aimless snickers and the occasional toss out – the laugh. That’s where my mind goes. Well, that and the gutter, but that’s okay too – who doesn’t like a little dirty joke every once in a while, huh? And I have you my readers to thank for this. You have laughed when I needed you to, responded to what I meant for you to, and encouraged that which is a vital part of who I am. Comedy and love.

Thank you.

Oh, and btw - I have a new blog to remember not to go to, or is that to forget to go to? Either way, there's a new blog in town and it's over in my blog list to the right. Just Taking Dictation is the new blog of a good friend of ours and my co-hort in whatever trouble I get in to. Yeah, Bebo, aka Beverly. Go and take a look, I dare you.

Just Imagine

Okay, imagine this is a blog post. In fact, while we're at it, imagine this is the best damn blog post you've ever read. Why? 'Cuz I'm queen and I said so ... besides, I have nothing to blog about, that's why. So, this is the greatest blog post you've ever seen, got it? While we're at it, let's add some imaginary pictures of sexy guys. Yeah, that's it - lots of sexy guys: a little Jackman, a few Clooney, some Bill Pullman (hey, I think he's sexy), a couple of Blooms - you get the idea, right? Sprinkle in a joke sent by Susan/Christa/Bebo/whoever - real hysterical/groaner joke. A fantastic review of a book I haven't read yet, and presto chango, a blog post. See, that was easy, wasn't it? What do you mean you don't see anything? You have to use your imagination. You got one of those, don't you? Do I have to do all of the work around here? Okay, okay, .... let's see ... I went to the Yellow Rose Christmas party Saturday night! Had a great time. Bebo and I actually got there without getting lost. That's a first so far. Well, we did get lost going home, but hey, it was dark!!! We just refer to it as adventures in driving. and that's it! Yeppers, that's the full story of my weekend. Don't you wish you'd stuck with the imaginary post??


moar funny pictures


moar funny pictures


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We'll look at Bev from both sides now

So on October 3 I had to take Bebo for some tests – an endoscopy (sp?) and a colonoscopy. The title of this blog? That’s what the anesthesiologists sang to Bebo (whose real name is Beverly) as she was going to sleep. LOL It was pretty funny. We (the nurse and I) had quite a time trying to get her to wake up. I knew she was coming out of it when she called me a bitch. Yeppers, that’s my Bebo. And it was that sort of a day. On the way over to her apartment that morning I passed the CVS Pharmacy. They have one of those, ohhh what are they called, um, marquee signs out front advertising their specials. There is was, Flogers coffee. Yep, the best part of waking up is a flogging with your cup. We laughed about that for a good couple of days. The results of the tests - the good news is that there isn’t any cancer or anything; the bad part is that they still don’t know what is causing her anemia. So now she has to have one of those tests where she swallows the camera/pill and they take pictures.

I got the stitches out Sunday morning. They had already begun falling out on their own anyway. The wound is still gaping a little, so the doctor put on butterfly strips and I have to keep the hand pretty immobile (like that’s going to happen) until the strips fall off. I hope they do so before Thursday as that’s when I return from my vacation. It’ll be hard to keep the area sanitary in that dirty store if the wound isn’t closed.

That’s really all there is – I know, you can hardly contain your excitement over my full and vivacious life!!

Oh, and can you find Aidan in the picture above? You can click on it to make it larger, I think. LOL

I didn't see this in the cards

If you are here before Bebo comments, please come back and read it. She will explain the title of this post, as well as the fact that I have 4 stitches and it hurts to type.

START WITH THE TITLE EXPLANATION BEBO

In the mean time, enjoy this little video. See you Wednesday.

Goat yells for his mom - in English

It's a Labor Day

Labor Day - a holiday created so that some people can labor so that other people who are not laboring can go to stores and make them labor. Right?

Labor Day used to mean a lot to me. I used to watch the Jerry Lewis Telethon way into the night and then the next morning when I woke up. I couldn't miss a minute of it. Big stars performed - I mean big names. Now? They don't even show the whole thing anymore. And stars? I caught it a couple of years ago and it was ... a telethon. No real spectacle any more. They're still raising the money, bless their hearts, but the sparkle is gone. We also used to have family gatherings on Labor Day. Up to 30 people would fill our house, food, laughter, games. On Labor Day evening I will go over to Bebo's for supper. That will be my Labor Day. It's only on holidays, no matter what holiday, that I really understand the fracturing of my family.

Speaking of my family ... my brother David informed me tonight that he will probably be going on oxygen full time now. He really only has one functioning lung because of his strokes. He has pollution caused emphysema. He also has another blocked artory in his neck that will have to be operated on. And speaking of David, read below.

I have a special concern about Gustav and his path. You see my nephew, David's step-son David (don't be confused LOL) lives on a boat in the Galveston Harbor. As the winds approach Texas I can't help but think about him. And worry. His car is broken and he can't leave. 32 years ago when my brother married David's mother, this little 5 year old boy looked up at me and said "When I grow up, I'm going to marry you." He was my first nephew, my first little love. Hey Dave? As you can see, you old Aunt is still waiting. LOL Be safe honey, be safe.

Have a safe and happy Labor Day everyone!

Here We Go Again

Oh, hi! Look, you showed up again. Isn’t that nice of you. What’s the matter, got nothing else to do? Evidently I don’t either. LOL You see, it’s Summer. All together now, how does Bailey feel about Summer? You’re lagging Toni. Michele, pay attention. One more time. Tori, this way sweetie. Yes, face the monitor. Brandy! Quit snickering. Melissa? Wake up dearie. Once more everyone. How does Bailey feel about Summer? There you go, that was perfect. Almost. Susan? What are you doing? No looking at LOLCats right now. Anyway, yes it’s Summer and my brain has gone on vacation along with the nekkid muses. I’m waiting for Fall. Please, sweet Fall, show your orange leaves, your crisp evenings, your splendid shedding of Summer’s green coat. Cast off the chains of Summer and run free like the wind!!!!! Oh, sorry, got carried away there. Lis honey, you’re late. Find a seat. You’ll have to catch up on your own. BTW, for being late that’ll be 3 laps around the track. Raine? I see you lurking over there. (waving) Okay, as you have noticed, the blog is still a Monday, Wednesday and Friday blog. And Friday’s will still be spam day. Keep down the cheers people. The only thing I ask of you – and this is for you lurkers – just at least say hi once a week. Two letters - H and I – a simple thing but enough to let me know that you are out there.

So it’s Summer, Tuesday was a level red ozone alert, Wednesday a level orange. Bebo and I are not amused. This isn’t good for people with asthma. It’s not really good for people without asthma. We’re all choked up about it. (har, har) But Fall really is just around the corner. School has started, NFL is in pre-season, the new Fall TV season is within eyeshot. Soon the Texas State Fair will start – my last sign of Fall. Last weekend, Bebo and her mother saw geese flying in formation heading south. Yippee!!!!!!!!! Fly babies, fly home to mama!!!!! I said – oh, hi. I forgot you were there for a moment. Sooo, Summer is nearing it’s end (oh please, oh please, oh please), and soon Bailey will be in a much better mood. You will be thankful for this too, just wait and see.

So, without further ado (not that we were ado-ing anyway), here is another of my LOLCatz. Yes Susan, see – good things do come to those who wait.

Until Friday, have fun, be safe, and be good. If you can’t be good, take notes.



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ACKKKKKKK it cut off the words again. Sheesh!!!

Okay, here's the link

What was your name again?

Hi, maybe I should re-introduce myself. My name is Bailey Stewart, and I’m a writer. I write romantic comedies. At least, I think about romantic comedies. I haven’t quite gotten them transferred from the ol’ brain matter to paper. Just a little catch, but I’m sure I’ll get past that eventually. Anyway, I missed you guys! What have I been doing while I’ve been gone? Absolutely nothing. And I’ve gotten damn good at it. If doing nothing were an Olympic event, I’d take home a silver medal. Really. No, not a gold, I have been doing some things. The office is almost put together; there are only a couple of boxes in the bedroom. Miraculously and to Bebo’s amazement, I’ve actually been keeping the apartment half-way decent. I think I’ve used the vacuum more in the 5 months I’ve been here than I think I ever did in a year at the house. Yep, the vacuum cleaner has become my friend. Now, if only the iron would talk to me. I also joined a paranormal group and have been on a ghost hunt. That was fun and I’m looking forward to doing more of it. Plus, as a step towards getting the stories from the head to the page, I am on the brink of joining Yellow Rose, the Fort Worth branch of the RWA. See, I’ve been disqualified for the gold. Oh, and Aidan got married. Yes, you read it right, my oldest kitty is now a married man. And no, the men in white jackets are not waiting for me. I think. He married a nice kitty named Cissy in a beautiful MySpace ceremony at the Rock Bottom Bar and Grill. I cried. If you promise not to laugh too hard, I’ll even share pictures here. Right now the happy couple is honeymooning in Ireland. Dublin to be exact. Hey, if you have to dream, dream big.

So what about you? What have you been up to in the last couple of months? I hope everyone has been having a great summer. I know that Michele and Dru have joined Facebook. Marty got married. And …. Well hey, fill me in!!

Oh wait!! I have been doing something else. I've been making my own LOLCatz. Obviously, you don't have to use your own pictures, since this isn't one of my cats. They have their own picture files you can choose from. This is one of my favorites that I've made.




HEY!!! BLOGGER CUT OFF THE WORDS!!!!! AWWWWWWW.
You gotta go here to see it properly.
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I Hate my Internet Spam

Yep, I'm having problems with the internet again. I've spent the day here at Bebo's trying to get all my bills paid, internet stuff done, reviews written and posted, and spam written in case I don't get back before Friday. So here it is Wednesday and I'm posting Spam. Not that you'll see it before Friday anyway, since blogster has this great "post it ahead of time" feature where I can set it up to post early Friday morning. I know, devious of me. Anyway, here's the spam. Don't forget to go over to Isn't It Romantic for my new review. Ciao everyone!

Update your penis. (What? To penis 2.0?)
Greetings, I have learned an interesting thing. (That Microsoft will upgrade your penis?)
Regain your attractiveness as a man. (I was a man?)
You look really stupid baileystewart. (As a man, yes I do.)
Don’t warry. (Warry? Is that more than wary? I would be warry of me as a man.)
How do these guys do it? (They’re born with it?)
These pills really make you huge. (No thanks, I have chocolate for that.)
Your neighbors lost their alarm clock. (You have got to be kidding! Don’t look at me, where would I put them?)
Ladies and Gentlemen’s please welcome her majesty Pharmacy. (In her jewel encrusted shower cap, carrying her gold toilet plunger scepter.)

Oh, and here's a picture of Bubba to hold you over.





UPDATE: INTERNET SUDDENLY CAME ON LAST NIGHT WITHOUT ANY EFFORT FROM ME, SO THERE MUST HAVE BEEN SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE PROVIDER

This and That

First, a message from Jason Evans:

Dear Blog Friends,

Thank you all for being an amazing part of my blog experience and The Clarity of Night!

I'm writing tonight to announce the grand opening of a companion blog. It’s a candlelit place called Night Conversations (http://nightconversations.blogspot.com/). Here's the concept.

In important parts of our lives, many of us struggle with feelings of isolation, of being misunderstood. Night Conversations is a place where anonymous participants spend a evening with me talking and delving into those feelings. No advice. No judgment. Just a person who wants nothing more than to listen and understand.

Stop over and share the first of the Night Conversations with me. If you like what you see, I'd be grateful for any mention, or even a review, that you would be willing to do on your own blogs. I'd love to see Night Conversations spread like a more personal version of Post Secret.

The comfy chair is open for anyone out there who like to participate. Thanks!

--Jason Evans

Not a whole lot going on with me. I seem to have become the MySpace page designer of choice. LOL First I did Bebo's, then the Jill Shalvis Fan Page, then my cat Bubba (yes, Bubba has a page, want to see it? Click here. Now remember, you don't have to be a member of MySpace to look at his page.) Then my two pages, yes two. One for me and one for Bailey. Now my cousin Joan wants me to design her page. Maybe I need to start charging. LOL

Here's a little video for your Monday. Please excuse the first scene, but the rest is great - especially the talking cats.

Stoked

I'm so excited and here's why:



I can't wait until May 22!!!!

I also have some great news (for me). I have a new car!! Well, not new, it's a 2000, but it's newer than the POS Mazda that I was driving and in much better shape. It was Bebo's car. Saturday, she bought a new one and I was able to buy her Saturn SL2 from her. It's grey/silverish and it has a CD player! Okay, I miss my moon roof, but hey, a CD player people!

So, what's up with you? Is there a movie coming out that you're really excited about?

I'm toast

Bebo and I attended Scarborough Faire, a Renaissance Festival just south of Dallas. This is its 28th year and the first year I had attended. Bebo had gone in years past, but not for about the last 16. We'd been promising to go for around 14 and decided that this year we'd go. Was it fun? I spent the day with Bebo, bought some great stuff. But fun? Not better than the North Texas Irish Festival. I hurt. We were only on our feet for about 5 1/2 hours and they ache. I'm used to being on my feet for 7 1/2 hours and they have never hurt this much. They have these stone walkways - not gravel really, more like little garden stones, chunks here and there. Stepping on them not only made walking a little hazardous (you've stepped on a little rock and had your foot turn, haven't you?), but each step would thrust one of those little stones through my tennis shoe bottom. I probably have little bruises all over the bottom of my feet. And it was really kinda ... boring? While the NTIF has music everywhere, bands on stage almost every half hour in different venues throughout the area, Scarborough had some traveling musicians, or a single player singing outside of a shop. It was almost silent, except for the occasional shouts from the "barkers" and maybe a sword fight here and there. I did get my hair braided - it looks pretty. Too bad it won't last. Oh well, at least I can finally say that I've been to the faire, but I doubt I'll be going back.

I Love Lucy vs. the Moving Van

So, lest you think that moving was a totally traumatic occurrence, let me assure you that there was plenty of levity to be had; some of it not discovered until after the actual move, but funny nonetheless. In order to tell this story properly, I need to back up a little. When we moved into the house in 1969 there was carpet only in the living room and hall. The three bedrooms were hardwood. My father, coming from the generation that looked upon hardwood floors as an indication of poverty, put carpet in those rooms as soon as possible. This meant that the ends of those three doors had to be cut off. When I removed the carpet, the doors were of course too short and left gaps when closed.

To present day - since moving meant having the front door open, I had to trap BooBear in the bathroom; Bubba and Aidan in the first bedroom. Anyone who has followed this blog for any length of time knows that Bubba doesn’t like to be closed up in a room. He protests quite loudly. Moving day was no exception. It was so funny to see Bubba’s nose and one eye peeking out from under the door. Poor pitiful Bubba, begging with that one eye.

Obviously, we had to unhook the washing machine in order to move it. No problem for the guy who was helping us. He used to be a professional mover. Easy, right? Hmmmm. When he unhooked the hot water, it wouldn’t turn off. Water was squirting everywhere, the floor was flooding and the three of us (Cavin, Bebo and I) were in a panic. The water was scalding his hand and Bebo grabbed some of my clean clothes for him to wrap around his hand as he tried to turn off the valve. I made frantic calls to my cousins who are plumbers. Brother number one didn’t answer. Brother number two did. And laughed. “Go turn off the hot water at the water heater” he gasped when he could. Huh? That’s too obvious, right? Of course that worked. Water was everywhere; a small lake in the middle of the dining room. Cavin was soaked.

Fast forward to me unpacking; I came across a small box that perplexed me. I could have sworn that I had left it on the bathroom counter. I put it on my bar and waited for Bebo to get there. “What is this?” I said as she came in the door. “It’s a light bulb” she answered. “No, it’s not just a light bulb. It’s a garage door opener bulb.” She stared at me. “I left it there on purpose as it’s quite obvious that I don’t have a garage door.” Bebo is a real good packer. In fact, Bebo is a terrific packer. She packs all sorts of things that I wouldn’t need. Like the cover to the smoke alarm in the study at home. What am I going to do with that?

So see, it wasn’t all tears and sorrow, there was laughter involved. Some funny memories to start my new life with.

New Home

Oh no!!! I wrote this last night, but was having problems with the internet and kept closing down the computer and rebooting. In the meantime, word, of course, went bye bye and I forgot all about it! Sorry I'm late.

Well we’re here and we sorta have internet. This is the same problem that I was having before I moved. It’s the laptop, refusing to hook up to the router. It also keeps telling me that a network cable is unplugged? Huh? There’s no cable hooked up to it, nor has there ever been. Oh well. Also, at about 8:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. it refuses to hook up at all. When my money comes in from the house sale I’m going to have to have it looked at.

The move was traumatic for the cats. First, BooBear was closed up in the bathroom. Bubba and Aidan were put in the Master bedroom and then when the guest room was cleared out, they were moved there. Bubba does not like to be closed up in a room without a human, but we had to do it to keep them from running out the propped open front door. We made a couple of runs from the house to the apartment. We were so tired that we decided to get the cats, go home and then come back the next day to finish up. My niece and her husband were coming to pick up and store the things for my brother so we had to be there anyway. I took a last look around in the closets and noticed something way back on the shelf in the Master. It was a small box. I took it down, opened it up and cried. You see, my mother had this habit of buying gifts, hiding them and then forgetting about them. She’d obviously bought this before the Alzheimer’s set in. I knew it was for me – it was a Purrfect Friends cat tile. It’s beautiful. I didn’t have long to linger over it as the crowd arrived to pick up Dave’s stuff. Then they were gone. Bebo and I put the last few things in our cars and I sent Bebo ahead so I could take a last look around the house alone. It echoed around me and in those echoes I could hear laughter and tears; in the rooms ghosts reached out to me. I stopped at the wall that separated the den from the kitchen. Resting my hand on the paneling, I stood for a moment. You see, when we moved in there, the paneling wasn’t on this particular section of wall. This was where my parent’s measured my growth with penciled lines on the wall. They were still there, underneath the paneling dad installed in the mid-80s. Stepping outside, I looked at the sidewalk my dad put in around that time, the sidewalk where he wrote our names: David (my brother’s step-son), James, Eric, Jenni Lynn and me. I said goodbye to the feral cats – especially Little One, the most friendly. Locking the house, I went next door to say goodbye to Gwen (having said goodbye to Debbie the day before). And then I got in my car, backed out of the drive and stopped at the sound of a shout. The man across the street stepped out from his garage and waved “goodbye”. The people on the corner did the same thing. Ernie on the corner called me over and I stopped. He said goodbye, gave me a hug and sent me on my way. I cried most of the way to the apartment. BooBear was still hiding – on Saturday he had found the bed and crawled under it, not coming out until dark and then back under Sunday morning. He was still under the bed, but Aidan was no longer hissing at Bubba. Bubba took the move just fine, exploring and jumping in boxes. Now a week later, they are all doing fine and adjusting to the constraints of the loss of running room.

I’ll tell you more about the move and the new apartment next time.

Last, Part Three

Friday night will be my last night in this house. I'm feeling a bit melancholy tonight. Mostly, I think, because of what this house symbolized. You see, once there was a family of six, now there are three. Once there were family gatherings with in-laws and grandchildren and gr-grandchildren and aunts and uncles and cousins. Now there is only Bebo and I. Once there was a little girl with dreams. Now most of those dreams have slipped by.

Now there will be new dreams, new memories. But I'll always remember that once there was a family. Once.

McCartney and Lennon said it best:

There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

Bebo Ain't Gettin' Nuthin' for Christmas ...

‘Cuz Bailey is mad.

Bebo told me there was only one thing she wanted for Christmas – the new Harry Potter movie. I’ve spent a month or so trying to figure out how I was going to come up with the money to buy it. Friday night my boss called and wanted to know if I’d work an entire shift on Saturday (instead of my half day) and I said yes. $25 dollars. Just what I needed to buy her gift. I worked the entire day and came home one tired puppy. Bebo wanted me to call her, so I did. We talked and then she quietly said “I bought myself something today.”
“What?” I replied.
Hesitation. “The new Harry Potter movie”.
It was so quiet on my side that you could hear a cat’s whisker hit the floor. “Why?” I said through gritted teeth.
“I thought it would be the only way I’d get it”.
Wrong!!!!!!!! “I was going to buy that for you. Now what am I going to do?”
Silence on her side. “Well you’ve done that before. Buy something you wanted before Christmas.”
Not a good enough answer. You see, I always give people plenty of options for my gift, so if I happen to buy one of them, at least there would be other things they could get me. And I never did it this close to Christmas. She only wanted one thing. ONE THING! So just as the song goes “Bebo ain’t gettin’ nutin’ for Christmas.”

The Cowboys lost. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter.

Heard tonight that Dan Fogelberg has died of prostate cancer. He was 56. For those of you who have no idea who I’m talking about – as you listen to your radio play Christmas music and you hear the song “Same Old Lang Syne” (in which a man reminisces after meeting an old girlfriend by chance during the holidays) – that’s Dan Fogelberg. He also sang “Leader of the Band”.

I hope everyone has a great Monday. And remember, if it’s a week before Christmas, don’t buy anything for yourself.

Cats 3, Tree 0

Another Monday

Since Bebo spent Sunday with her family, there was no movie watched. Instead I watched the Cowboys beat the Miami Dolphins. They kind of had me worried there in the first half, but then came alive in the second half. And our defense – intercepting the Dolphins Trent Green 4 times! We’re now 2 – 0, our best start of the season for a long time. I don’t know how many of these close games in the first two quarters that I can take. I like it a lot better when we’re blowing out the score and I don’t have to fret so much – I can enjoy the game.

And tonight is the Emmy Awards – I love award shows, so I’ll be right there in front of the tube for a night of stunning dresses and long-winded acceptance speeches. Oh, and my weight loss total is up to 28 lbs. so far.

Some Days Make no Sense

Ackkkk, here’s the blog post where I have to talk about myself. I hate Mondays because of this. I can never think of anything to say. Wait, I’ve lost 22 lbs. so far – that’s good, right? Bebo and I watched “Vacancy” Sunday. Scary stuff with plenty of jumps and chilly moments. We will never, ever stay at one of those isolated roadside motels again. Not that we’re planning on taking any trips off interstate and into the backwoods. But just in case …

Today, in the U.S., is Labor Day. I think it’s a day to celebrate the working class by giving them a day off. But now it’s evolved into a day of shopping, barbeques, and lake-side shenanigans. Shopping of course means that somebody has to labor, so it’s not Labor Day for everyone. Got it? We used to have a big family get together on Labor Day, but since Mom’s death, well actually since Dad’s death, we haven’t had a lot of get-togethers. Bebo will be spending the day with her parents and I’ll be sitting around twiddling my thumbs. Or sleeping. My guess is sleeping. I hope those of you who celebrate this day have a good one – well, hell, everyone have a good one whether you celebrate Labor Day or not.

See why I hate Mondays?

Attack of the "B" Movies

I’ve sat and stared at this page for quite a while now, with X-Men running in the background and thoughts of tonight’s NFL game floating through my head. I don’t really have anything to blog about, except I finally got to see “The Devil Wore Prada” (or is that "The Devil Wears Prada", now I can't remember) and loved it. Anybody else seen it, or am I the last? And then Bebo and I watched “Solar Attack” – a “B” movie that looked right down our alley. Bebo and I love lousy “B” pictures about ghosts or world disasters, but this one ranked amongst the worse of them. What about you? Do you like “B” movies? What’s your guilty pleasure, movie-wise? And what good movie have you seen lately? Talk to me.

I'm Baaaaaaack!

I have my laptop again!!!! I am so happy I could sing and dance, if it wouldn’t scare the cats. Bebo’s friend Steve took about an hour before he finally slayed the internet beast. I don’t know what he did, but it sure worked. La da dee da da (I’m singing and dancing – the cats are running for the hills). Don’t you wish every trouble you had could be fixed in under an hour?

Speaking of problems, say a few prayers for Susie on Thursday. She’s going in for day-surgery to remove a polyp in her uterus. Let’s hope it’s benign.

Meanwhile, I want to know what you are reading. I’m reading Lush by Sasha White in ebook and Hands On by Amie Stuart in print. Come on, spill it, whatcha reading?