Despair -- it ain't the spare tire in the trunk of the car, its the school system. Home - Economics should be knowing how to fix things to save big money. That would mean TO HELL with the Martha Stewart Course to learn how to make pastry for delicious sausage rolls. Are all females starting a catering service? Pillsbury took care of that big mystery!!!
Our young females should be marched off to HandyWOMAN School and men to Martha Stewart Boot Camp. I think men and women could coexist better and they clearly wouldn't be from Venus and Mars -- they can be comrades instead of carpers. "You didn't fix the leaking faucet will be gone" just as well as "did you wash my socks y- e - t ?"
All females need a tool belt -- a dam mighty fine Prada tool belt -- tangerine leather with western tooling, rhinestones and titanium tools with tangerine matching grips and some decent looking work clothes. That's a million dollar idea -- women's work wear. Can you see the work boots girls?
If a woman can't skillfully handle a jig saw like Loraina Bobbit wheeled her butcher knife, no female is worth her high school diploma. For those mandatory community hours -- off the girls go to a construction site, an auto body shop, a carpentry shop and when she returns home, she can brick the house, repaint her car and build her own dam cabinets plus install the granite countertops. Her income will increase substantially and she too can become a blue collar millionaire. And what else will happen, she will live longer from lack of stress.
Just a tidbit -- really stressed out people shorten their life span by 15%. We all know how men can stress out women. What woman wouldn't get stressed out watching a guy, unhook a wall light fixture? In may case, there remains two little ant holes that can easily be filled with toothpaste (yes I have done that temporarily until I can get around to painting)and without asking you anything, drives his hammer into those holes and creates craters the size of golf balls before I can blink. Men as we know have to impress us with their knowledge and despite what asses they make, must be right and especially in front of women. They want us to feel secure! Hello????
In fact, there are still some women's faces plastered on the back of milk cartons who have not be abducted -- they are with some guy who refuses to stop and ask for directions. The have been circling Northern Ontario for years. Thank God pilots have flight plans and controllers to tell them where to land.
Well back to the reason why we whack the wall with a hammer, well obviously the poly filler needs more depth. Then the men slather the now crater zone with primer. Now those once two little ant hills are the size of large flat screens (and the little ant holes still show) and there never was any matching paint. I think there is a gap in the way men and women think -- so hiring a Handy MAN and not a Handy WOMAN is a problem for women who know what has to be done, but without tool knowledge, doesn't tackle it. And you dare not confront the expert, or you will see a Mantrum like you've never seen.
So I stand in the lane way and gaze up at the curling roof and just shake my head about how the school system has jipped the female population of knowledge and income. The joy of being able to fix your own house -- now that's joy -- THE ROAD TO RICHES. Is that my next move -- start a school to produce HANDYWOMEN -- Class A Handywomen - strap on those tool belt girls!!!
At least when the men know we aren't just pretty faces, but actually know we have the knowledge, they won't be whacking up your drywall with roofing nails instead of drywall screws. Yes I have had that happen -- they were quite shocked -- me a woman who puts on her Merle Norman face every morning -- knows the difference between the roofing nails and drywall screws. Now ain't that something??
Monday, August 31, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
To decorate or ..not ... that is the question?
My model home design life used to be so easy. In the construction of a model home world, the kitchen is painted before the kitchen cupboards went in and were full to exploding. The floors went down before the six piece sectional was all latched and lined up, and since you have no occupants, I did no worry about what cord plugs into what and hello, how to coordinate the rewiring of the surround sound now and t.v.!
Well that is my mission for today, to pretty on a penny,decorate on a dime, so that my house will turn me on more so. As I said, if your house looks like crap, you'll feel like crap!! Yes, that's the truth. Got to call a spade a shovel. If you want a mood lift, don't run to the doctor, change your space -- better than a counselling session. When you walk into your bedroom, really spend a few bucks. That is the first area you see when you open those peepers. Does it say, "get out quick," or "I'm Joan Collins ready to receive my gentlemen callers!"
Another thing we know in the design world, is not just LESS IS MORE, but DESIGN UNFOLDS. What that means to us is, you know that paint colour that you just stood in line at Home Depot for 20 mins., well on the way home, you stopped off at Home Outfitters and saw a print for the room that made your toes curl, and you need a new gallon of paint. Also, that couch that we thought would look so terrific in front of the window, well it doesn't because when the sunlight hits that fabric it will become a whiter shade of pale.
Its like having a child. You envision all these great ideas how the kid is going to be a Vet, or something that you can brag to your friends about -- but when the framer says it will cost you $3000 to put in columns if you take down the support wall to open up the kitchen with the diningroom, you have to have Plan B; shoot smaller, and be enthusiastic. What's Plan B. The kid is a Vet Assistant and that wall removal, its a cutout and dammit smile.
And so the life of a Space Therapist is like a roller coaster ride with the home owner screaming in a high pitch "yes, I want that" and the framers, etc. dropping you down with "no, its impossible" unless you spend another $1000 over their budget. And you have to figure out how to produce the WOW and not get hit from flying debris in the process of negotiating.
At least in doing my own space therapy, who cares if I have to buy another gallon of paint. I can take another 20 minutes of some young thing, who probably just fought with her mother or boyfriend, giving me crappy attitude -- its worth it for a can of great paint. The joy of space therapy!!!
Well that is my mission for today, to pretty on a penny,decorate on a dime, so that my house will turn me on more so. As I said, if your house looks like crap, you'll feel like crap!! Yes, that's the truth. Got to call a spade a shovel. If you want a mood lift, don't run to the doctor, change your space -- better than a counselling session. When you walk into your bedroom, really spend a few bucks. That is the first area you see when you open those peepers. Does it say, "get out quick," or "I'm Joan Collins ready to receive my gentlemen callers!"
Another thing we know in the design world, is not just LESS IS MORE, but DESIGN UNFOLDS. What that means to us is, you know that paint colour that you just stood in line at Home Depot for 20 mins., well on the way home, you stopped off at Home Outfitters and saw a print for the room that made your toes curl, and you need a new gallon of paint. Also, that couch that we thought would look so terrific in front of the window, well it doesn't because when the sunlight hits that fabric it will become a whiter shade of pale.
Its like having a child. You envision all these great ideas how the kid is going to be a Vet, or something that you can brag to your friends about -- but when the framer says it will cost you $3000 to put in columns if you take down the support wall to open up the kitchen with the diningroom, you have to have Plan B; shoot smaller, and be enthusiastic. What's Plan B. The kid is a Vet Assistant and that wall removal, its a cutout and dammit smile.
And so the life of a Space Therapist is like a roller coaster ride with the home owner screaming in a high pitch "yes, I want that" and the framers, etc. dropping you down with "no, its impossible" unless you spend another $1000 over their budget. And you have to figure out how to produce the WOW and not get hit from flying debris in the process of negotiating.
At least in doing my own space therapy, who cares if I have to buy another gallon of paint. I can take another 20 minutes of some young thing, who probably just fought with her mother or boyfriend, giving me crappy attitude -- its worth it for a can of great paint. The joy of space therapy!!!
Friday, August 28, 2009
Let's Get Civical - Civical !!
Do we recall our Olivia Newton John -- headband, leg warmers -- screaming Let's Get Physical. Well I'm her twin but I'm screaming "Let's Get Civical/Civilized." Fat is an epidemic but so is rudeness!! How we treat each other improves or lessens the quality of our lives! Did you know that a rude, unfair boss that mistreats you can cause your heart disease? However aside from the boss, my question is: are people being raised by wolves? Every day I leave home, I have to kiss my crucifix because its a hell of a ride through an impatient, rude world out there.
As the mother of an only child, who was hell bent on having an only child, I was warned, oh how I was warned I would be creating a rude, spoiled brat and solution, have another. Well, I gave it some serious thought as folks wouldn't let up on me, and then the light bulb moment came. She can't be a spoiled brat if I don't show her how to be one or allow her to be one even if she comes packaged that way. How many people raised 2,3,4 rude spoiled brats. Obviously it isn't the number -- its monkey see, monkey do too technique, or let the terrors rule. Well a good spanking took care of any Hitler in training in my day before CAS gave the little Hitlers their phone number. Now the laugh is on them. Wonder why there are too many kids in the system and not enough Social Workers? Good Government planning eh?
However that was 30 years ago, now we have an epidemic of rudeness, 5 star rudeness and growing. The hardest thing a kid has to learn today is how to be mannerly when none seemingly exist around them.
Ever gazed across a restaurant and seen some guy with his family out for dinner, yapping away on that cell phone making his what -- golf date. Or giving the waiter pure living hell because his pasta is cold or his martini only had one olive instead of two. And when the pasta is warmed (could have been spit on in the process) and the martini has two olives (and who knows if that took a trip to the washroom), he just grunts or gives that get lost nod.
Now let's not forget the gals. The chick using the GPS system that when that idiot machine said "turn right here", well across the road in front of you she shot like a circus freak out of a cannon. Now get this when you honked the horn out of sheer frightful reflex action, she gave you the finger and fired you one of those looks like, I'm packing a pistol so back off sister!!!
Now let's see who is sitting in the back seat watching Ma Barker -- hello, 2 kids in safety seats -- who at any given moment are truly going to need those safety seats. And where is the mother of the year going in her Lexus SUV? Well not fleeing from the cops but to some 35% off sale at Home Sense that she wants to fit in before she picks up the other monkey see, monkey do -- at soccer. Now that is what the kids see over and over and over.
When it comes to picking up Fido's fertilizer, or letting Fido decorate the neighbour's lawn with yellow polka dots, "ah who cares". Many a cop has been called over flying dog poop!! Oh yeah!!! Who's watching this freak show -- the kids! And if we don't stop it, well it could become an Olympic event - Yes The Flinging of the Dog Poop, that's how low we may go folks.
It may be that we are doing a fantastic job demonstrating good manners at home, or are you? Do you just grunt at one another instead of saying yes, or a grunt instead of please and thank you. Now hold on, what about the jack ass teachers, neighbours, relatives that you let or are forced to let your kid see on a regular basis. Bad manners are contagious -- and Grandpa scratching his what nots counts and barkng like Frank at Marie on Everyone Loves Raymond -- yes sirree!!
So Oprah better get off the pedophile bandwagon for a while and put a rush on the manners epidemic before we all perish!!! Hear this folks -- manners matter most and we are in a hell of a mess!!! So Oprah, Get on it girl. As for me, today and every day -- will try to mind my manners. Who knows what little who is watching? But lest we forget, God is !!! Oh the Joy of being around people with good manners.
As the mother of an only child, who was hell bent on having an only child, I was warned, oh how I was warned I would be creating a rude, spoiled brat and solution, have another. Well, I gave it some serious thought as folks wouldn't let up on me, and then the light bulb moment came. She can't be a spoiled brat if I don't show her how to be one or allow her to be one even if she comes packaged that way. How many people raised 2,3,4 rude spoiled brats. Obviously it isn't the number -- its monkey see, monkey do too technique, or let the terrors rule. Well a good spanking took care of any Hitler in training in my day before CAS gave the little Hitlers their phone number. Now the laugh is on them. Wonder why there are too many kids in the system and not enough Social Workers? Good Government planning eh?
However that was 30 years ago, now we have an epidemic of rudeness, 5 star rudeness and growing. The hardest thing a kid has to learn today is how to be mannerly when none seemingly exist around them.
Ever gazed across a restaurant and seen some guy with his family out for dinner, yapping away on that cell phone making his what -- golf date. Or giving the waiter pure living hell because his pasta is cold or his martini only had one olive instead of two. And when the pasta is warmed (could have been spit on in the process) and the martini has two olives (and who knows if that took a trip to the washroom), he just grunts or gives that get lost nod.
Now let's not forget the gals. The chick using the GPS system that when that idiot machine said "turn right here", well across the road in front of you she shot like a circus freak out of a cannon. Now get this when you honked the horn out of sheer frightful reflex action, she gave you the finger and fired you one of those looks like, I'm packing a pistol so back off sister!!!
Now let's see who is sitting in the back seat watching Ma Barker -- hello, 2 kids in safety seats -- who at any given moment are truly going to need those safety seats. And where is the mother of the year going in her Lexus SUV? Well not fleeing from the cops but to some 35% off sale at Home Sense that she wants to fit in before she picks up the other monkey see, monkey do -- at soccer. Now that is what the kids see over and over and over.
When it comes to picking up Fido's fertilizer, or letting Fido decorate the neighbour's lawn with yellow polka dots, "ah who cares". Many a cop has been called over flying dog poop!! Oh yeah!!! Who's watching this freak show -- the kids! And if we don't stop it, well it could become an Olympic event - Yes The Flinging of the Dog Poop, that's how low we may go folks.
It may be that we are doing a fantastic job demonstrating good manners at home, or are you? Do you just grunt at one another instead of saying yes, or a grunt instead of please and thank you. Now hold on, what about the jack ass teachers, neighbours, relatives that you let or are forced to let your kid see on a regular basis. Bad manners are contagious -- and Grandpa scratching his what nots counts and barkng like Frank at Marie on Everyone Loves Raymond -- yes sirree!!
So Oprah better get off the pedophile bandwagon for a while and put a rush on the manners epidemic before we all perish!!! Hear this folks -- manners matter most and we are in a hell of a mess!!! So Oprah, Get on it girl. As for me, today and every day -- will try to mind my manners. Who knows what little who is watching? But lest we forget, God is !!! Oh the Joy of being around people with good manners.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
What a waste of good makeup!!!
Yep, another night of wasted makeup? You guessed it I watched More To Love. Saw the gals make king size, whoops, queen size asses of themselves again. I can only imagine, once you have signed on the dotted line, they sue the skirt off you if you want to walk from the humiliation.
How do they not take an overdose of whatever Michael Jackson took once the show airs?
Did you see the Salsa date? The supposed plus size model -- the one who needs her wishbone replaced with backbone -- flees and barricades herself in the undecorated Marilyn Munroe suite. Why? Luky is doing the sensual Samba - it's a group date. What decent woman would do a group date to begin with? When he is done with woman No. 1, he comes banging on the bathroom door, woman No. 2 emerges her loveliest looking like an aged Bloodhound -- saggy, red eyes, from her jealous attack and then does what, confesses to Mr. Pillsbury "I'm so jealous she has you!"
Here we go again. I want to scream, Honey, that's why God invented the the catholic church. Tell the priest you want to strangle 6 other women, Luke or yourself for signing on. What does Luke answer, summarized "what did you expect when you signed on?" He is right, but this is when I grab the pen, rewrite the script and do a let's trade shoes Luke, and I wear the Pradas.
From the Jame Dean stalls jump five Chippendales doing their version of the sensual samba with Mr. Man Boob's harem as he stares on. Don't it turn those blue eyes green ? How do the shoes fit now Luke? I can see the gals up on their chairs like Tom Cruise on Oprah's couch yelling -- screaming now we're talking sister!!
It is so hard to believe in this age of rage (as you have noticed by the erratic drivers and twitchy people in line at the grocery store) that you don't provoke people needlessly. What are these writers thinking? One guy - 20 girls. One girl -- 20 guys. Someone is going to get their eye poked out with a stick? They must give out a round of Prozac before they start that show and load them up with Valium to get them into the limo. Maybe they keep them heavily sedated through the whole thing -- but what kind of people does these kind of things on national t.v.?
If you have been following the Bachelor /Bachelorette shows, some have sprung lose from whatever asylum (whoops now called a Spa) they keep them in until they get over their obsessive compulsive disorder.
I doubt they will do a psychological profile on show candidates until one of these gals stalks Luke, kidnaps him and starves him to a mere sliver of himself. He will look like he was a concentration camp victim.
Anyway note to Blog followers, it's a scary world out there -- DON'T PROVOKE PEOPLE and DON'T BITE OFF MORE THAN YOU CAN CHEW!!!!
How do they not take an overdose of whatever Michael Jackson took once the show airs?
Did you see the Salsa date? The supposed plus size model -- the one who needs her wishbone replaced with backbone -- flees and barricades herself in the undecorated Marilyn Munroe suite. Why? Luky is doing the sensual Samba - it's a group date. What decent woman would do a group date to begin with? When he is done with woman No. 1, he comes banging on the bathroom door, woman No. 2 emerges her loveliest looking like an aged Bloodhound -- saggy, red eyes, from her jealous attack and then does what, confesses to Mr. Pillsbury "I'm so jealous she has you!"
Here we go again. I want to scream, Honey, that's why God invented the the catholic church. Tell the priest you want to strangle 6 other women, Luke or yourself for signing on. What does Luke answer, summarized "what did you expect when you signed on?" He is right, but this is when I grab the pen, rewrite the script and do a let's trade shoes Luke, and I wear the Pradas.
From the Jame Dean stalls jump five Chippendales doing their version of the sensual samba with Mr. Man Boob's harem as he stares on. Don't it turn those blue eyes green ? How do the shoes fit now Luke? I can see the gals up on their chairs like Tom Cruise on Oprah's couch yelling -- screaming now we're talking sister!!
It is so hard to believe in this age of rage (as you have noticed by the erratic drivers and twitchy people in line at the grocery store) that you don't provoke people needlessly. What are these writers thinking? One guy - 20 girls. One girl -- 20 guys. Someone is going to get their eye poked out with a stick? They must give out a round of Prozac before they start that show and load them up with Valium to get them into the limo. Maybe they keep them heavily sedated through the whole thing -- but what kind of people does these kind of things on national t.v.?
If you have been following the Bachelor /Bachelorette shows, some have sprung lose from whatever asylum (whoops now called a Spa) they keep them in until they get over their obsessive compulsive disorder.
I doubt they will do a psychological profile on show candidates until one of these gals stalks Luke, kidnaps him and starves him to a mere sliver of himself. He will look like he was a concentration camp victim.
Anyway note to Blog followers, it's a scary world out there -- DON'T PROVOKE PEOPLE and DON'T BITE OFF MORE THAN YOU CAN CHEW!!!!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Joy, Joy and more Joy!!!
Bet you wonder where this blogger has been -- WINDSOR -- won some tickets to Caesars to see Donna Summers and a free suite. There is no greater joy than a free bee and so girls enter all the contests you can! You can buy the tickets, but truly a free bee is joy to the highest power. Another joy is to have good friends who will take hold of the wild beast -- in fact one friend picked up Snowie and brought her to her home so Snowie had a little get-away too. How we miss appreciating those little things -- FAVORS FRIENDS DO WITHOUT MAKING YOU FEEL GUILTY.
Joy plus,plus, plus. A hotel room fit for an Oprah in training. A lovely Manhattan living room, with marble bathroom and a private suite with panoramic windows of Detroit waterfront - view fit for two Park Avenue Princesses. Don't you just love nice hotel bedding? Two spa robes awaited us after I could wrench them out of the closet. I almost dislocated my wrist tugging that door handle up and down -- hello had to get the maid to show me to PULL the door. Girls, enjoy a good laugh at your stupids?? I do!!!
The tickets - more Joy seat 13. What could have made me a tad happier was to scale over a few individuals and sit in lucky seat 13 in Lucky row 13. Well, I had not been to a concert obviously for a long, long time. The flat screens, now the size of my two garage doors, took care of having to bring the binoculars and for Miss Summers made her oh so visible. She emerged like a shooting star in a silver sequined gown, still got the pipes but has definitely had been sideswiped like the rest of us, by menopause. Isn't it nice when the stars confess they too have been dating the Doritos -- claimed "she had not eaten in 30 years - and so she made up for it."
Well, as I sat there watching her, I thought there is a gift to my own downfalls -- gives this lady the gift of my compassion. Also, I thought, what a blessing that maybe we don't get the fame we secretly crave -- the abuse the famous take from the press for their weight, looks, and probably right down to the colour they paint their toenails -- brutal! What guts it takes to get on stage and know that every chick in the place is thinking -- including to quote Joy from the View " the skinny bitches" -- elbowing the husband that Donna Summer has gotten fat! Well when I went down for the buffet --you know how they like to feed you free -- makes you stronger to pull the one armed bandit, I was looking around for Donna, but she wasn't among us. Oh well, the more grub for the rest of us -- nothing like a sugar coma to help you hand over the kid's inheritance to the slot machines.
And so, I am sure right at this moment (lunch time) our Miss Summers is hungrily staring at a salad and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. I'm sure she is woozy from the lack of refined carbs -- but I say to her " Donna to hell with us -- eat the dam cookie honey," And that is my message for today. Go easy on ourselves and each other -- this weight thing is a hell of a battle. A blast from the past question -- do you recall Susan Powter - the fat makes you fat gal ?
Bet you wonder where this blogger has been -- WINDSOR -- won some tickets to Caesars to see Donna Summers and a free suite. There is no greater joy than a free bee and so girls enter all the contests you can! You can buy the tickets, but truly a free bee is joy to the highest power. Another joy is to have good friends who will take hold of the wild beast -- in fact one friend picked up Snowie and brought her to her home so Snowie had a little get-away too. How we miss appreciating those little things -- FAVORS FRIENDS DO WITHOUT MAKING YOU FEEL GUILTY.
Joy plus,plus, plus. A hotel room fit for an Oprah in training. A lovely Manhattan living room, with marble bathroom and a private suite with panoramic windows of Detroit waterfront - view fit for two Park Avenue Princesses. Don't you just love nice hotel bedding? Two spa robes awaited us after I could wrench them out of the closet. I almost dislocated my wrist tugging that door handle up and down -- hello had to get the maid to show me to PULL the door. Girls, enjoy a good laugh at your stupids?? I do!!!
The tickets - more Joy seat 13. What could have made me a tad happier was to scale over a few individuals and sit in lucky seat 13 in Lucky row 13. Well, I had not been to a concert obviously for a long, long time. The flat screens, now the size of my two garage doors, took care of having to bring the binoculars and for Miss Summers made her oh so visible. She emerged like a shooting star in a silver sequined gown, still got the pipes but has definitely had been sideswiped like the rest of us, by menopause. Isn't it nice when the stars confess they too have been dating the Doritos -- claimed "she had not eaten in 30 years - and so she made up for it."
Well, as I sat there watching her, I thought there is a gift to my own downfalls -- gives this lady the gift of my compassion. Also, I thought, what a blessing that maybe we don't get the fame we secretly crave -- the abuse the famous take from the press for their weight, looks, and probably right down to the colour they paint their toenails -- brutal! What guts it takes to get on stage and know that every chick in the place is thinking -- including to quote Joy from the View " the skinny bitches" -- elbowing the husband that Donna Summer has gotten fat! Well when I went down for the buffet --you know how they like to feed you free -- makes you stronger to pull the one armed bandit, I was looking around for Donna, but she wasn't among us. Oh well, the more grub for the rest of us -- nothing like a sugar coma to help you hand over the kid's inheritance to the slot machines.
And so, I am sure right at this moment (lunch time) our Miss Summers is hungrily staring at a salad and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. I'm sure she is woozy from the lack of refined carbs -- but I say to her " Donna to hell with us -- eat the dam cookie honey," And that is my message for today. Go easy on ourselves and each other -- this weight thing is a hell of a battle. A blast from the past question -- do you recall Susan Powter - the fat makes you fat gal ?
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Dog Gone Good Diet
If you read my bio, a great joy of my life is as a Solutionist -- I love solutions and especially Simple Solutions that are outside the box. Yesterday once I wrote the blog about weight, well it was weight galore day. It started with an Oprah show, and hearing Dr. Oz counsel some, and I say this with sadness, very obese teens. How to 9/ll the best years of your life. It is scary that teens have the diseases of 60 year olds like high blood pressure, diabetes, etc. The Doc's solutions -- just change what they drink to water, etc. they could drop their weight by 40% and, secondly avoid supersizing. Now he skidded over the nutrition stuff because there would have been a riot in the studio if he really told them the fries were out and sugar had to go and I think that might have been lead by our Oprah.
Well, Oprah's Lets Skinny Down The Teens Day was the start and it ended with More to Love. Have any of you followed that? Its the Pennington's version of the Bachelorette -- from size 4 to 24. Its our same women looking dumb show though. Women hating on other nice women because why? There is only one great guy left in the whole wide world. Now if you followed Dancing with the Stars, (can't recall her name) the devistated gal from the last Bachelorette who got dumped after he picked her in front of millions of people, well lo and behold once she started Dancing with the Stars, Mr. Perfect No. 2 popped up and she is engaged. Come on! People (men and women) are like buses -- if you miss one there is still another one coming -- just pray its a good one though? Put that women thing in because men act just as crazy when some gal waves goodbye.
Well I am having a high blood pressure attack watching these women go postal in front of the world when he rejects them. And I quote "it will take me another 21 years to get another date?" What are you thinking? I want to get in the t.v. set, shake some sense into someone and scream, there are a million ways you can drop pounds, including lap band, etc. and then you won't give this guy a second look. Finally, why would you want Mr. Luke? If he doesn't lose weight you will be his nurse or his purse. Once the heart attack hits, someone will have to bring home the bacon. And, heads up, if you both don't adopt a healthy lifestyle -- you will be on the Biggest Loser Family Show and Jillian will be on you like white on rice. We all know our little monkeys see and our little monkeys do too-- and hasn't that one come to haunt us folks?
So I went to sleep with the question of how to drop the pounds on my mind. When my eyes sprung open this morning I had a light bulb simple solution I wish to share with my blog followers. If you have a dog, or there is a dog in the house, we all know how we love the dog, and yes, often times more than the kids. The dog thinks we are wonderful -- gorgeous too. Well, whatever you are about to eat, you have to give it to the dog too. I'm saying if you are having cheese cake, get a doggie bag and take a slab home and feed it to the dog too. Eating chips and cookies at home - dog gets the what Mama gets. Now how often has the dog been begging for our food and we said, "No Rufus - this isn't good for you -- it will make you fat and sick" and then we proceeded to wolf it down. Isn't it true we shop for the most nutritious dog foods so the dog will be healthy, they won't die before their time, and finally, we won't have huge vet bills. Obviously we think more of the dog than we do ourselves.
So, I love the joy of a great fat loss idea (going to call Oprah on this one) but better yet, the joy of being the person the dog thinks I am -- smart and slim!!! P.S. If you don't have a dog a good reason to rescue one who has a time limit at the Humane Society -- don't want to go there. Going out to hug Snowie.
Well, Oprah's Lets Skinny Down The Teens Day was the start and it ended with More to Love. Have any of you followed that? Its the Pennington's version of the Bachelorette -- from size 4 to 24. Its our same women looking dumb show though. Women hating on other nice women because why? There is only one great guy left in the whole wide world. Now if you followed Dancing with the Stars, (can't recall her name) the devistated gal from the last Bachelorette who got dumped after he picked her in front of millions of people, well lo and behold once she started Dancing with the Stars, Mr. Perfect No. 2 popped up and she is engaged. Come on! People (men and women) are like buses -- if you miss one there is still another one coming -- just pray its a good one though? Put that women thing in because men act just as crazy when some gal waves goodbye.
Well I am having a high blood pressure attack watching these women go postal in front of the world when he rejects them. And I quote "it will take me another 21 years to get another date?" What are you thinking? I want to get in the t.v. set, shake some sense into someone and scream, there are a million ways you can drop pounds, including lap band, etc. and then you won't give this guy a second look. Finally, why would you want Mr. Luke? If he doesn't lose weight you will be his nurse or his purse. Once the heart attack hits, someone will have to bring home the bacon. And, heads up, if you both don't adopt a healthy lifestyle -- you will be on the Biggest Loser Family Show and Jillian will be on you like white on rice. We all know our little monkeys see and our little monkeys do too-- and hasn't that one come to haunt us folks?
So I went to sleep with the question of how to drop the pounds on my mind. When my eyes sprung open this morning I had a light bulb simple solution I wish to share with my blog followers. If you have a dog, or there is a dog in the house, we all know how we love the dog, and yes, often times more than the kids. The dog thinks we are wonderful -- gorgeous too. Well, whatever you are about to eat, you have to give it to the dog too. I'm saying if you are having cheese cake, get a doggie bag and take a slab home and feed it to the dog too. Eating chips and cookies at home - dog gets the what Mama gets. Now how often has the dog been begging for our food and we said, "No Rufus - this isn't good for you -- it will make you fat and sick" and then we proceeded to wolf it down. Isn't it true we shop for the most nutritious dog foods so the dog will be healthy, they won't die before their time, and finally, we won't have huge vet bills. Obviously we think more of the dog than we do ourselves.
So, I love the joy of a great fat loss idea (going to call Oprah on this one) but better yet, the joy of being the person the dog thinks I am -- smart and slim!!! P.S. If you don't have a dog a good reason to rescue one who has a time limit at the Humane Society -- don't want to go there. Going out to hug Snowie.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
WHERE'S THE BEEF?
Remember that old gal that did the Wendy's commerical yelling Where's The Beef? Wasn't she a riot? Isn't it too bad that when women's eyes spring open, they immediately think about their extra beef. I don't mean the beef in the freezer. And what makes it worse -- bad decorating move -- women plant the treadmill in the bedroom just to torture themselves further. It does make a good clothes rack but it still screams "failure." Yep, we feel like failures because we haven't mastered this weight thing once and for all.
Look at poor old Oprah if you want to feel better about yourself. Each season she has to parade herself on stage, with probably two pair of those Spanx under her slacks and publicly say "failed again-- starting over." Holy Cow, and I'm not talking about Oprah although she did get in a bit of a mess with her comments on not eating cows. With all her millions, she's losing the battle rapidly. Do you recall her saying how humiliated she felt when she had to stand between 67 year old Tina Turner and 63 year old Cher, on stage at a concert. If we superglued those two together, they would have made one Oprah. Doesn't it make it worse her hanging out with Rachael Rae -- the Queen of Carb Cooking.
Gals, wouldn't it be great to be a man? They don't care about weight ever unless the Dr. has really laid into them. Then they just fire the diet at the wife and basically say "the Dr. wants me to follow this diet" and your job is to not only bring in the diet food, but find out a way to force feed him to eat it. Watch King of Queens -- Carrie has her hands full with Dougie boy and his weight.
So for today, I'm going to change my wording. I don't have to lose weight -- I have to lose fat, you heard me F A A A A A T, because that is what we have to lose. At least then I might know what target I'm shooting for. I'm not sure all the Jenny Craigs, the Weight Watchers, etc. are really helping us girls to understand the carb addiction. Getting us to trade salad for a piece of chocolate cake is kind of crazy uh? I think it is like an alcoholic -- you either stop the drinking or you drink and blow up your life. We either stop the refined carbs or you eat the carbs and we blow up our bodies.
Anyhow Jack LaLanne came to my mind, why don't know -- God sent I think. I love that Jack LaLanne guy -- now 94 and the wife 85. That guy still does two hours exercise each morning and is planning to pull the wife in a bathtub across the Atlantic for his 95th. Don't mock this guy can do it -- he says Exercise is Queen and Nutrition is King. Notice he didn't say diet -- the man said NUTRITION!!!
So in honour of the Father of Fitness/Nutrition -- Jack LaLane -- I am going to fire up the juciers, of which I have two. I am not bragging. People buy them and then don't want to clean them -- so they give them to me. FYI they are made by Jack LaLanne. I plan to drink carrot juice until I turn orange. I should be able to see in the dark like a bat and be the colour of a pumpkin the next time you see me but hopefully not look like a pumpkin. So you will be impressed! You just won't recognize me and if you stand down by Grand Bend, you will see me in my Speedo pulling the Mrs. in a bathtub down to Sarnia, where I will stop at the Blue Water Casino and win us a fortune. The joy of good health -- its all in what's on the fork -- mine will be in a straw.
Remember that old gal that did the Wendy's commerical yelling Where's The Beef? Wasn't she a riot? Isn't it too bad that when women's eyes spring open, they immediately think about their extra beef. I don't mean the beef in the freezer. And what makes it worse -- bad decorating move -- women plant the treadmill in the bedroom just to torture themselves further. It does make a good clothes rack but it still screams "failure." Yep, we feel like failures because we haven't mastered this weight thing once and for all.
Look at poor old Oprah if you want to feel better about yourself. Each season she has to parade herself on stage, with probably two pair of those Spanx under her slacks and publicly say "failed again-- starting over." Holy Cow, and I'm not talking about Oprah although she did get in a bit of a mess with her comments on not eating cows. With all her millions, she's losing the battle rapidly. Do you recall her saying how humiliated she felt when she had to stand between 67 year old Tina Turner and 63 year old Cher, on stage at a concert. If we superglued those two together, they would have made one Oprah. Doesn't it make it worse her hanging out with Rachael Rae -- the Queen of Carb Cooking.
Gals, wouldn't it be great to be a man? They don't care about weight ever unless the Dr. has really laid into them. Then they just fire the diet at the wife and basically say "the Dr. wants me to follow this diet" and your job is to not only bring in the diet food, but find out a way to force feed him to eat it. Watch King of Queens -- Carrie has her hands full with Dougie boy and his weight.
So for today, I'm going to change my wording. I don't have to lose weight -- I have to lose fat, you heard me F A A A A A T, because that is what we have to lose. At least then I might know what target I'm shooting for. I'm not sure all the Jenny Craigs, the Weight Watchers, etc. are really helping us girls to understand the carb addiction. Getting us to trade salad for a piece of chocolate cake is kind of crazy uh? I think it is like an alcoholic -- you either stop the drinking or you drink and blow up your life. We either stop the refined carbs or you eat the carbs and we blow up our bodies.
Anyhow Jack LaLanne came to my mind, why don't know -- God sent I think. I love that Jack LaLanne guy -- now 94 and the wife 85. That guy still does two hours exercise each morning and is planning to pull the wife in a bathtub across the Atlantic for his 95th. Don't mock this guy can do it -- he says Exercise is Queen and Nutrition is King. Notice he didn't say diet -- the man said NUTRITION!!!
So in honour of the Father of Fitness/Nutrition -- Jack LaLane -- I am going to fire up the juciers, of which I have two. I am not bragging. People buy them and then don't want to clean them -- so they give them to me. FYI they are made by Jack LaLanne. I plan to drink carrot juice until I turn orange. I should be able to see in the dark like a bat and be the colour of a pumpkin the next time you see me but hopefully not look like a pumpkin. So you will be impressed! You just won't recognize me and if you stand down by Grand Bend, you will see me in my Speedo pulling the Mrs. in a bathtub down to Sarnia, where I will stop at the Blue Water Casino and win us a fortune. The joy of good health -- its all in what's on the fork -- mine will be in a straw.
Monday, August 17, 2009
WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?
As some of you know, I have been in the life coach business for a few years, and I love to ask this question to individuals, who need to renovate themselves or their relationships -- " Would you date yourself?" Recently I amended it to include and " How Much Fun Are You to Live/work With?"
Well - why did I amend it? Do you know that I have met some people that we should storm Parliament Hill to immediately enact a law to include euthanasia under OHIP coverage, who quickly, and I mean New York minute, quickly, say to me with a straight face, " Yes, I'd date myself." What in the hell goes on in some people's minds?
From the moment they open their eyes, and speak, they cause the dog to vomit. Even Jesus would have taken his belt off to straighten up their arrogant bad ass attitude. It doesn't matter what they are asked to do -- they take offence and respond with the eye rolling, head flipping, lip snarling (learned from Elvis no doubt), and wait, it gets better, the foot stomping, or door slamming . Or how about the ones who just look at you like "who said you could speak." Now I know you are laughing and thinking I am talking about your kids, your mate when you ask them to take out the garbage, but I am talking about employees when they are asked to do their job. Yes, you would think you are requesting their immediate kidney removal.
What has happened in this crazy employment world? With few jobs and people jumping off the CN tower because they don't have a job, why are companies putting up with employees who act like pitbull Simon Cowell -- you know who I mean -- Mr. arrogant Smartie Pants who makes the kids cry on American Idol. Love to see his gene pool!!!
Last week I spent three days of emotional abuse with the jack ass of all jack assess (a graduate of the Simon Cowell Classless Course) and finally, sent an email to the owner of the company telling him, loved the product -- don't love the Manager. The answer I received, "yes, I have had similar feedback to yours that he is condescending, irresponsible, rude, self important, erratic,etc. and the etc. is long, I can assure you, but he has cabinet experience." And so I sit writing my blog when I could be out pushing the granite, meeting some wonderful people like you who need to have help to get their house glammed (question -- when you turn the key to your house -- does it turn you on) and making some lovely eco friendly green money. Love the granite.
And if you read my posting from yesterday, you know my music is on. My cure all until my next wave of joy appears and it will, always does somehow. Long live the Blogger!!
As some of you know, I have been in the life coach business for a few years, and I love to ask this question to individuals, who need to renovate themselves or their relationships -- " Would you date yourself?" Recently I amended it to include and " How Much Fun Are You to Live/work With?"
Well - why did I amend it? Do you know that I have met some people that we should storm Parliament Hill to immediately enact a law to include euthanasia under OHIP coverage, who quickly, and I mean New York minute, quickly, say to me with a straight face, " Yes, I'd date myself." What in the hell goes on in some people's minds?
From the moment they open their eyes, and speak, they cause the dog to vomit. Even Jesus would have taken his belt off to straighten up their arrogant bad ass attitude. It doesn't matter what they are asked to do -- they take offence and respond with the eye rolling, head flipping, lip snarling (learned from Elvis no doubt), and wait, it gets better, the foot stomping, or door slamming . Or how about the ones who just look at you like "who said you could speak." Now I know you are laughing and thinking I am talking about your kids, your mate when you ask them to take out the garbage, but I am talking about employees when they are asked to do their job. Yes, you would think you are requesting their immediate kidney removal.
What has happened in this crazy employment world? With few jobs and people jumping off the CN tower because they don't have a job, why are companies putting up with employees who act like pitbull Simon Cowell -- you know who I mean -- Mr. arrogant Smartie Pants who makes the kids cry on American Idol. Love to see his gene pool!!!
Last week I spent three days of emotional abuse with the jack ass of all jack assess (a graduate of the Simon Cowell Classless Course) and finally, sent an email to the owner of the company telling him, loved the product -- don't love the Manager. The answer I received, "yes, I have had similar feedback to yours that he is condescending, irresponsible, rude, self important, erratic,etc. and the etc. is long, I can assure you, but he has cabinet experience." And so I sit writing my blog when I could be out pushing the granite, meeting some wonderful people like you who need to have help to get their house glammed (question -- when you turn the key to your house -- does it turn you on) and making some lovely eco friendly green money. Love the granite.
And if you read my posting from yesterday, you know my music is on. My cure all until my next wave of joy appears and it will, always does somehow. Long live the Blogger!!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
ENJOYING LIFE THE ROMANCE WAY
Its Sunday night watching the parade of old stars on PBS -- that's Public Television. Fund raising night -- so come on girls, think about sending a cheque to have your grandkids or kids watch the kind of television that won't turn them into serial killers.
What is the most fascinating about watching this parade of stars -- there are people who have music careers that are older than I am. They are bouncing on the stage like teenagers. That would make them probably near 80. Debbie Reynolds is glowing and spinning like a fishing lure straight from Vegas. She is still earning her keep. Her dress leg slit is almost waist high, and I can assure you girls she is not sporting support hose and her cosmetic surgery is good, I still recognize her. Now you know what I mean, we recognize the voice, but ponder when we look at the face.
Pat Boone, is not Fat Boone, but still that sexy old devil, tanned and with the shirt open -- has substantial chest hair or had implants. The Diamonds have hair, may be gray, but it is still duck tail length. The women, the McGuire Sisters, obviously did not go through menopause because they are wearing a size 4 custom costume and walk quite stable -- doubt hip or knee replacements on those barbie doll limbs. Seriously, I don't know in what oxygen chambers they have been housing these folks, but I want in. LET ME IN!
The summary of this little outburst is -- aren't the teens really missing out -- ROMANCE and romantic music we heard and visualized how fantastic Mr./Mrs. Wonderful would be once we got married. Well lets not go down that road. Music will carry you anywhere and through anything. Music is my fantastic joy in life despite who has just entered the house. If you jack up the music loud enough, you can block out any two legged annoyance. So kids, doesn't matter if you can sing, dance or play the guitar -- you can still play the radio -- best free drug around and if you can move those old osteo hips, well there could be Samba Mama cooking the beans tonight. Ain't life grand in the fast lane?
What is the most fascinating about watching this parade of stars -- there are people who have music careers that are older than I am. They are bouncing on the stage like teenagers. That would make them probably near 80. Debbie Reynolds is glowing and spinning like a fishing lure straight from Vegas. She is still earning her keep. Her dress leg slit is almost waist high, and I can assure you girls she is not sporting support hose and her cosmetic surgery is good, I still recognize her. Now you know what I mean, we recognize the voice, but ponder when we look at the face.
Pat Boone, is not Fat Boone, but still that sexy old devil, tanned and with the shirt open -- has substantial chest hair or had implants. The Diamonds have hair, may be gray, but it is still duck tail length. The women, the McGuire Sisters, obviously did not go through menopause because they are wearing a size 4 custom costume and walk quite stable -- doubt hip or knee replacements on those barbie doll limbs. Seriously, I don't know in what oxygen chambers they have been housing these folks, but I want in. LET ME IN!
The summary of this little outburst is -- aren't the teens really missing out -- ROMANCE and romantic music we heard and visualized how fantastic Mr./Mrs. Wonderful would be once we got married. Well lets not go down that road. Music will carry you anywhere and through anything. Music is my fantastic joy in life despite who has just entered the house. If you jack up the music loud enough, you can block out any two legged annoyance. So kids, doesn't matter if you can sing, dance or play the guitar -- you can still play the radio -- best free drug around and if you can move those old osteo hips, well there could be Samba Mama cooking the beans tonight. Ain't life grand in the fast lane?
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