Cry! Cry! Cry!

"Dear Joaquin Phoenix,
Oh lover, no. NON!



Seeing this recent picture of my little soup du jour makes my heart bleu. Why, I remember that April nuit in Paris when you asked, no, begged! Pleaded! Pined! Yearned! for my undying love, but I told you, my little souffle, that I cannot marry you, for we are on 2 different paths of life. I'm on the path to stardom of becoming the world's leading grand designer of chapeaux made from croissants and mini Eiffel tower figurines and you on the path to becoming the next lumberjack Brawny paper towel spokes model. Our love is destined to be as lonely and grey as that kook Mona Lisa.

Let's remember the way you looked when we met, so délicieux, so magnifique., You were, mon cherie, too, too divine! I must go now, Joaquin, you delicious little saucisse, for the poets and painters are calling to me. A toast to you, my pet! And if your career in the paper towel biz is très terrible to you, there will always be a spot open to you, not only in my heart, but as a guest role playing a 1980's Cuban drug dealer on CSI: Miami."

Hazy Shade Of Winter

The recent snowfall has taken another victim. Blaze the Horse is not putting up with any more shit today.



Can I just say how sick I am of the snow? I'm so sick of the snow. There, I've said it. If you live in, say, the perpetually on-fire California, you just can't smell what the rock is cooking when people like me bitch about snow and ice and cold and freaking weather. Who wouldn't want to wake up to this every morning? Isn't the grey, foreboding sky cheerful?



On the flip side, it's supposed to stay in the upper 20's this week, which is downright tropical in contrast. And you just know some buttmunch is going to be walking around town in a tee shirt. Probably one of our infamous college hippies, walking to the Starbucks with his other stupid hippie friend in flip-flops, so they can talk about deeply philosophical things like how smoking pot actually makes you smarter.

I've been pondering my own deep thoughts lately and have decided I'm going to start doing some kind of give-away. ("Take my husband. Please." That was way lame. I blame the hippies for stealing my mojo.) The winner will be one of you lovely readers, who apparently have some sort of sado-masochistic tendencies to keep reading this blog. The giveaways will be something vintage in nature and may be seasonal, they may be monthly they may have themes. But most likely they'll have no rhyme or reason and I'll do them whenever the hell I feel like it. "It's Alexander Graham Bell's birthday! Celebrate by signing up now to win a prank phone call from me!"

So stay tuned in the next week or so and I'm going to announce what sort of vintage nonsense I'll be giving away! ("Announce". Ha! Like I'm Ed McMahon handing out Publishers Clearing House checks. I'm so fancy.)