The Cows are Taking Over the World.

According to this article, European scientists have discovered through the use of Google Earth software that cows are magnetic. Apparantly, they are aligning themselves with Earth's north-south magnetic fields while they graze or rest.

Not only are they now a cud-chewing compass, but they also excrete enough methane gas to blow up Russia, and I have reason to believe that they are responsible for crop circles.

Holy shit. Cow's are going to take over the world.

Forget Al Queda, alien invasions, or guerilla warfare, "It's What's For Dinner" that we all have to worry about.

Being that I'm a vegan, I am hoping they will spare my life. I will try and save as many of you as I can, but I am not sure if I can fit all of you in The Rollerskate.

Move over and give me some happy, damnit.

I believe they say that happiness is a "state of mind." I don't know who "they" are or what makes them the authority on an emotion that is clearly hard to define.

It has recently come to my attention that I am at a point in my life where I have pulled my head out of my ass long enough to realize that I have been selling myself short. Although I am not sure where I will go from here, it is at least something to think about, and hopefully act upon in the relatively near future.

I have a few questions. Excuse the random thought pattern, I am just thinking "out loud."

How does one incorporate what they love into their career? "Live what you love." It's a statement that I have been struggling with these past few years.

I want to be more creative, and I want to do so in an environment that makes me some dough.

I'm not looking to "get rich", I am just looking to make a living at something that I love to do.

The funny thing is, I am not exactly sure what that is. I mean, I love to write, I love to cook, and bake, and decorate. I have been told I am a great salesperson, "people person" blah blah blah...corporate bullshit...etc. So, how do I take these talents and make them work for me in the capacity I want them to work. Does that make sense?

Then I look at the things I have been through. I have overcome this obstacle of R.A in my life that I feel is just staring me in the face screaming, "DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT STUPID! Take what you know, and share it with the world! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?"

How can I incorporate what I have learned in a medium to help others, which will in turn give me a career that will fill this void I believe is missing in my life. Or, am I just crazy and selfish, and taking for granted the opportunities that I have now?

So many of us are stuck in the 8 to 5 jobs that we have mediocre feelings for at best. Just think about it...40 hours a week for the next 30-or so odd years is a lot of time, and a HUGE chunk out of my life. Why should I settle with anything less than what makes me feel like I am utilizing all of my potential?

Am I merely basking in the comfort of a salary and predictability as a means to float by, pay my bills in a timely manner, and ensure that I have proper health care?

Because if I am, that's bullshit. Plain and simple.

I just called myself out...Which stung a little...Damn, I can be tough.

Anyway, what I am searching for right now is a little guidance. Possibly some direction, a way to go...Some words of wisdom, or maybe just a swift kick in the ass.

Discuss amongst yourself, and feel free to clue me in on the mystery if you so desire.

*The above picture of my dog's asses was an accident that turned out to be one of my favorite pictures. Sometimes the unintended things in life can turn into a "happy accident." I just wish I could stumble upon a few more of them right now.

Fun With Corporate Training (Alternate Title: Reason Number Two of Why I'm an Asshole)

Earlier today I had to finish a "Fair Lending" internet training session. For those of you who aren't up to speed on what "Fair Lending" is, it's basically a bunch of rules and regulations that we have to follow in order to make sure we are treating everyone equally in terms of lending money and executing appropriate customer service.

As an employee of an extremely large bank, I must complete this assigned training whether or not it specifically pertains to my job.

These sessions are usually tedious and boring. However, this session proved to be extremely entertaining as demonstrated by the following screen shot.



This made the water I was drinking at the time exit both out my mouth and through my nose all over my company-issued laptop.

I don't know if it's how blunt and matter of fact the statement "I don't like to lend money to gay people." is, or how douchebagish the guy in the photo appears to be, or a combination of the two.

It didn't end with "the gays" either. There was an instance where a Hispanic chico was hung up on, and where an Asian woman was nearly reduced to tears because of some asshole in the customer service department. I felt like saying, "Listen here Vicky Choi (that was her name) I have fallen victim to a rogue customer service agent a time or two and it's not fun. Next time ask to speak to a manager and get your business handled the right way...That's how we roll in America. Now go on over to M.I.T, get your degree in biochemistry and find a cure for cancer or some shit."

As you can see, "Fair Lending Training" did nothing for me.

A Dirty Plea

It's no secret that I love Dirty Jobs...It is also no secret that I have a huge crush on Mike Rowe. Incidentally, this is no secret to Josh either...Which makes it completely acceptable.
At the end of the show, Mike Rowe asks the viewers to go to the Dirty Jobs website and submit ideas for more Dirty Jobs. Which is what I did. Mostly because I think my idea is awesome, but also because I want to stalk him. (Kidding...sorta.)
Anyway, I've decided to post the three entries I wrote on the site...These entries take place over the course of three days. My entry had a LOT of hits, but no comments, so feel free to stop on by to this link and reply to my job and rant and rave about what an awesome idea it is etc...I am Sunshine76.

Day One:
Ahhh…The Minnesota State Fair or “The Great Minnesota Get-Together”, or what I affectionately call “Loads of Poo and a Coronary on a Stick.” However you want to refer to this 320 acre affair, it runs for twelve days (this year from August 21-September 1st) and trust me when I tell you that it’s a variable cornucopia of dirty.
Everything from heaps of animal poo, to an onslaught of grease for deep-frying, to people from Wisconsin (Kidding…sort of.).If you are searching for dirty, you will find it here.
If you are wondering what you will find in the Grand Stand after a Black Crowes concert (besides the obvious one-hitters and empty flasks of gin), I am sure they will let you help them clean up. If you want to learn how to operate the Tilter-Whirl and risk the possibility of losing a limb, I can bet that the good (mostly one-handed) folks on the Midway will clue you in. If you would like your bust carved out of a block of butter…well, you have to become “Princess Kay of the Milky Way” to do that, but I am sure someone can be paid off.
Mini-doughnuts, cheese curds, fried pickles, deep-fried snickers bars, corn dogs, fried green tomatoes, just to name a few, are all made in either tiny little trailers or smack dab in the middle of a large, hot and greasy food building that will make you wish you were never born. Not to mention that they stopped serving 3/2 beer last year and graduated to the full-on brew which will undoubtedly render “housekeeping” many hours of fun cleaning out the johns.
I know I already mentioned poop…But did I mention the extent of poop? Barn after barn, after barn of every kind of animal you can think of. Horses, pigs, cows, chickens, llamas, sheep, goats…Have you ever seen pig testicles the size of a fourth grader? I have…and I saw it at The Fair.
This is the only place on God’s green earth (hopefully) where you can watch a heifer give birth and then walk across the street to purchase a Scotch Egg, which if you don’t know what one is, it’s a hard boiled egg wrapped in some sort of meat mixture, coated in breadcrumbs and deep fried...Just what you want to be eating with the smell of barnyard wafting in the background. Yummy…
If you need some help navigating this barrage of filth let me know, I would be more than happy to offer my 25 (O.K. FINE 32) years of experience attending this dirty, filthy, event that us Minnesotan’s have become so proud of.

Day Two:
Awwww…Throw me some props here!
Have you ever watched in horror as some random seven-year-old polishes off a bucket of chocolate chip cookies and then hops on “The Zipper?” The result is not pretty, and it’s darn dirty. What about the poor fools that have to prepare your “pork-chop-on-a-stick” in a 7X14 trailer when it’s 85 degrees outside with 98% humidity? Sweaty AND dirty…And there is NO WAY you can turn your head the other way to thousands of poo-caked, feather tarnished rooster/chicken/bird cages…You’ve never seen anything so filthy. Ever.
So, take a serious look at this one…And tell Barsky that there are cheese curds and beer in it for him. Who can pass that up?

Day Three:
This is my last attempt. Before I let this entry be discarded into the reject file with “Crime Scene Cleanup” and “Slaughterhouse Worker,” I have one more idea…If you’re not interested in actually going to The Fair, how about clean-up after?
Can you imagine the mess after 1.6 million people eat, drink, and frolic their way across 360 acres of prime St. Paul real estate? The mere thought of the environmental detriment is enough to make Al Gore cry himself to sleep.
The animal barns need to be cleaned, the rickety death traps they call “carnival rides” need to be packed up, the grease pits need to be emptied and the bathrooms need to be scrubbed.
If my plea has been in vain, that's O.K. You can still find me at The Fair. I’ll be the one sulking in the corner gnawing on a fresh ear of sweet corn and concealing my contraband in the form of a gin-filled plastic flask that I plan on smuggling into the Black Crowes concert.
Peace.
Sunshine76.

Reasons Why I'm an Asshole; Feeding the Homeless

Feeding the homeless. It's an idea that in all other circumstances would be a completely non-asshole thing to do.

Volunteering at a soup kitchen, donating canned goods to a food shelf, giving money to organizations that help people in need are all really good ways to be a contributing member to society...right?

The other day while Josh and I were en route to wherever we were going we came to a stop at the top of an exit ramp where there happen to be a homeless person, holding a sign that read something like "Homeless, please help."

Now to set the stage for what Josh is about to say next I have to explain why he is driving around with a carton of 50+ beef sticks in the back of his car. Over the fourth of July holiday we were given the package of beef by my friends Dad who apparantly had an overabundant supply. I'm vegan, therefore I won't eat them, and they are WAY too chalk full of preservatives and cancer causing agents for Josh to want to as he refers to it, "Put them in the temple" or what most normal people would say, "eat them."

So as we were sitting there next to the homeless person, separated only by the tempered glass and steel of our German engineered air-conditioned vehicle, Josh looks at me and says, "Should I give him a beef stick?"

"OF COURSE, you should give him a beef stick!" I said.

But then the light turned green and we were unable to pawn off our chewable cancer wrapped in pork intestines to the unassuming homeless man.

The we starting talking, and this is where I become an asshole.

I asked Josh, "What if next time we're not close enough to the homeless person to be able to hand him or her a beef stick? We can't THROW it at them...that would be rude...Maybe we could create a shooting devise like those guns at sporting events where they shoot out t-shirts into the crowd. We could have a gun that shoots beefsticks at the homeless...and we could provide them with signs with targets on them for proper aim to ensure that no one loses and eye...And then as we are shooting we could scream "STEP INTO A SLIM JIM" so they know we are about to fire..."

And there you have it, launching food at the homeless...Just one, of many reasons why I'm an asshole.

Arrrrrr....

For those of you who don't keep current of the happenings of important events that are either currently taking place, or are to take place in the relatively near future, here is a freebie.

September 19th is International Talk Like a Pirate Day and that day is quickly approaching.

I am already making plans to fashion an eyepatch and spend the enitre day using authentic pirate phrases like "Shiver me timbers!", "Baton down the hatches!",and "Thar she blows!"

Instead of saying "my" I will say "me" and I will call my office the "poop deck"...and I will not laugh just because I said the word "poop."

I will refer to my friends as "Matey's" and then I will quickly turn against them in an all too familiar pirate like manner and make them walk the plank while calling them a bunch of scallywags and waiving my sword in their faces.

I also think it would be quite fitting if I were to carry around a bag of "Veggie Booty." I could offer it as a tasty snack, or I could throw it at people as they walked by me...Burton loves Veggie Booty....

Lola, on the other hand is quite indifferent to it.

Not so much of a fan of the booty...

At the end of the day I will go to the bar and scream in my best pirate voice "More ale Wench!"...and eventually be surprised and mildly insulted when they make me leave with my sword, patch, and bag of booty.

Jerks.

I can't wait for September 19th.

Goodbye Sidney, Heaven Has a Wonderful New Angel.

For the last few months I have been helping out here and there with a fundraising effort for my very good friend Chrissy's niece, Sindey.

Sindey was born on July 17 2007 and shortly thereafter was diagnosed with Microvillus Inclusion Disease, an extremely rare disease which basically prevents nutrients from being properly absorbed by the body.

Earlier this year she was sent to Miami to undergo multi-visceral transplant surgery, and recieved transplanted small intestines, large intestines, liver, stomach, pancreas, bladder, and two kidneys.

Sidney was a fighter, she was a brave and strong little girl who did everything she could to make it through, and did, until finally it was just too much.

Sidney peacefully passed away early yesterday morning in the arms of her mom and dad.

I don't know what it is like to be a parent, but I can imagine that losing a child is one of the most horrible things to have to go through.

I encourage you to visit Sidney's website and read her story. She has something to teach each and every one of us about perservence and being strong, not many people could put up with everything that little girl had to go though and still have a smile on their face.

She has taught me that we should be thankful for what we have and that we have a lot to learn when it comes to what really matters in life.

If you are able, I also encourage you to donate to her family, the cost of the medical procedures are (as can be imagined) extremely expensive and they could use all the help that those of us have to offer.

You can also view Sidney's story as reported on WCCO TV.

Not One Of My Finer Moments

Following the seemingly ill-advised instructions of your drunk friend at a bachelorette party to put a shot glass in your cleavage and let some random guy then stick his face in your boobs while he takes the shot of alcohol (which is most probably the last thing he needs) is called "taking one for the team."

Having photos of the event is called "blackmail."

Posting them on your blog is called "stupid."

However, I thought this photo is much too hilarious not to post.

It was a night of drunken debauchery, and it was totally acceptable because we were 1). Drunk and 2). At a bachelorette party.

I find it absolutely amazing the things you can get away with when you are one of the members of a bachelorette party. People give you money, people take their shirts off at the bar and flex because you told them to, people take off their underwear and give them to you...It's up to you whether or not you want to put them on your head and parade around the bar. (No, that was NOT me...trust me...)

Also, people (by people I mean the guy in the photo with the flames on his shirt) can horn in on your moment and steal your thunder when they strip completely naked (COMPLETELY) and stand by the bar wearing nothing but your bra. (Hey, I didn't have a choice in the matter, my bra was the easiest to remove through my dress and my friend already had it half off me by the time I even noticed...Thank you Tanqueray.) My bra will never be the same because as you can see in the above photo, that guy isn't exactly...well....ahh...fit.

So there you have it. If I ever run for political office I am sure this picture will surface...Well, I know it will because you don't have to look too hard to find it...But hey, it's all in good fun!

It hasn't been long enough to forget my password!

But it has been long...

I have no excuse. Busy? Yes. Lazy? Yes. A life full of jet setting vacations, hob-nobbing with the rich and famous and drinking martinis by the gallons? Hardly.

A few things that have happened since my last post:

Kirby

Kirby lasted with us less than four days. He tried to kill Lola on multiple occasions...This was a dog that would have even given Cesar a run for his money.

"But he's so cute, and innocent looking!" you say. Look, there's nothing cute and innocent about his jaws rapped around my dogs neck as I try to peel his angry snarling self off of her practically lifeless body. It was traumatic, it was horrible, and I cried for three of those four days.

He would literally walk circles around me in my living room and if Lola would even attempt to come close he would attack. I felt like I was being imprisoned, I felt like Julia Roberts in sleeping with the enemy. Only, he didn't really care about the bathroom towels or the cans in the cupboard....Oh, and I know how to swim...and I have better hair...

Anyway,I felt bad, but the people at the rescue assured me that it was O.K. to give him back and let them find a better home for him. The lady said that Lola is so submissive that it would take a dog to pretty much "kick is ass" to set him straight.

So, they put him in a foster home with three ass kickin dogs and it did nothing. He even kicked THEIR asses...Then went after the cat. When I called to check up on him, the foster organizer said that they decided to call him "Cujo."


Seriously though, he was a really sweet and good dog when there were no other animals around and they were able to find him a wonderful home with a wonderful family who adopted him.

Burton

So after Lola was able to psychologically heal, a couple of weeks went by and we were able to find the perfect pal for her and us. He's actually Lola's half brother. We made the trip to the same breeder...A wonderful woman with a huge farm with horses, and animals and a nice loving facility for the animals. Rolling hills and fields for them to run and play, they also board dogs for when you go on vacation. Her dogs all look so happy and I really feel good about going back and recommending her.

So, here is the little guy...


His name is Burton. Burt Squirt, Burton Bear...And he is just great. He and Lola sleep together, eat together, play together. He's teething right now and she even cleans his mouth for him and helps with his pain and suffering. It's so DAMN cute! They're best buds and we all couldn't be happier.

Oh, and he wears a tie for special occasions. Shut up. Would you expect anything less.

My dad

My dad is doing well. He still has dementia (obviously it's not going away),he still forgets who my husband is, and he still steals his wallet. Seriously. My dad has become a klepto since this whole dementia thing. And we laugh about it, mainly because we're a bunch of assholes, but also because it's pretty damn funny. A few months ago, my dad put on Josh's jacket, opened up the pocket, took his wallet out, opened it up, grabbed the bills out of it, and put them in his jeans pocket. All while we were all sitting in the living room.

It was as plain as day. I could have lit my ass on fire and hung it out the window of my speeding car, and I would still have been considerably more discreet.

Cabin:

I usually post a Top Ten List of the things I learned at the cabin over the Fourth of July Holiday. However, I didn't really learn anything new this year. Maybe it's because I'm getting older and I know that drinking a gallon of Margarita mix has never and will never be a good idea. Or maybe it's because I am no longer allowed near the bonfire with gasoline and matches, or maybe this was just an odd year. Anyway, it was still a blast, and I am still sun burnt.

But, it's always good to reminis.

Meet Kirby!

The animal cuteness factor in my household just rose another 10 notches with the addition of our new adopted Jack Russell Terrier, Kirby.



Are you kidding me? I think I might have two of the most adorable dogs EVER (see Lola on the sidebar to your right).



I know...seriously...SHUT UP!



Kirby is about a year and a half old and came from a high kill shelter in Sioux City, IA that only gives their dogs 7 days and then they're put down. With the help of Midwest Animal Rescue we were able to save him and bring him into our home.

He's been adjusting well, just a few minor aggression issues with toys and food that can be fixed...He's already getting better, plus, he's having his "manhood" taken next week. Poor guy!

He is a cuddler and loves to play fetch, knows how to "sit," "stay," and "release" and he loves to play with his "new buddy" Lola!

I am so excited to have been able to help out and find Kirby a place in my home, now whenever I see those Iams commercials I don't have to go through an ENTIRE box of Kleenex, just a few tissues.

Aortic Aneurysms, Lacerated Fingers, and Rabid Pets

The "Readers Digest" version of Jenni's life, Winter 2008.

I haven't written about this because it's consumed so much of my life over the past few months that I just didn't want to belabor the catastrophe. My dad has been in and out of the hospital with a slew of problems, including, but not limited to, an infected, bleeding colon, a mass on his left kidney, and now, an aortic aneurysm.

Now, in order to understand my dad you have to realize that the man has been through the ringer with his health. He had a pituitary tumor where they had to remove his pituitary gland in 1974. He's had three strokes, the first when I was 12 years old, and the last (known stroke) 16 years ago, when I was 16. Also, because of the tumor and the lack of pituitary gland, he's been dependent on cortisone, a drug in which his doctor said he's be lucky to live 25 years on...It's approaching 33.

He's also stubborn as hell, trying to reason with him is like trying to reason the sucker out of the hand of a three year old. It's been worse since the dementia, which really started to get bad within the last three months.

Which brings me to yesterday, when my two brothers, my sister and me went to my parent's house to convince my dad that he needs a stint put in his leg so his aeorta won't explode. He doesn't want to do it, and it was MY job to convince him. For some reason, the man will only listen to me...And there is background there, but I really don't want to get into it. It has to do with me being the youngest and being there with him for all of his strokes, teaching him how to read again, and pretty much watching after him. So it was on my shoulders to make him do this.

I got him to say that he will think about it, which is more than anyone else could do. Tomorrow my mom and I will go to his doctor where he and I will once again try and convince him that he needs this done. And you can't just say "Dad, you need to do this because if you don't you will die." It's much more complicated than that and he is MUCH too stubborn.

Not only that, but he has been really weak and frail, so the fact that he is going to be put in the situation where he will be under anesthesia is another concern all together. We just have to pray that everything will work out...

On a completely unrelated note, I almost sliced off my finger yesterday with a chefs knife as I was cutting a lemon. (See below)

The damn thing won't stop bleeding. Josh claims that I'm just a wuss and stitches are for pussy's. So, I've decided to prove him wrong and wait until my finger falls off from some flesh eating infection before I get it tended to...I'll show HIM!

And last but not least, I thought I would sign off with a lovely photo of my dog Lola getting ready to eat my friend's 5 lb Maltese, Peanut.


Kidding! Actually, they were playing here, not even growling, just wrestling with their mouths open like rabid canines ready to kill each other for dinner. Really, though, they DO love each other...Here's proof!

Tigger

She was a good cat, she was a cat of many names...Tigger, Squid Squat, Meow Face, Fur Face. She was also a bit of a recluse...Shy, didn't like people much, except the ones that she knew. My dad nicknamed her "Osama" because whenever they would come over she would run and hide in the basement.

I "inherited" her about seven years ago from my sister. They had rescued her from a shelter when they lived in Pennsylvania. After, they moved back to Minnesota for a few years and then my brother-in-law was transferred to Tokyo. They couldn't bring the cat, so they asked, and I agreed to take her.

At the time I was living in a small one bedroom, it was a converted attic apartment in an old house in downtown Excelsior. When she moved in, she hid in my closet for a week. Only coming out when I was asleep.

Gradually, I must of grew on her because when I would come home she would join me in the living room and sleep with me at night.

She used to love to sleep in the window right behind my bed. One day when I was walking up the outside stairs to enter my apartment I found her sitting at the door...I wondered how she got out! I went over to my bed and the screen had fallen out of the window. She fell THREE STORIES! Not only that, but she knew enough to climb the stairs to the front door...I was impressed, and decided that she must have used at least four of her nine lives on that one.

When we moved to our house in Minneapolis she wasn't much interested in going outside, and when we brought Lola home, she immediately packed her bags and moved to the basement where she had the whole place to herself and was content to hide and play on her own terms...much like any other cat!

And talk about stubborn! She was definately a cat of her own will, and a cat after my own heart! It took her about three years to finally accept the dog, and decide that Lola was worth her presence...They would hang out in the kitchen and beg for treats together...a real life "Mutt and Jeff!"

The last few months were the worse for Tigger, about two months ago, she started to go blind, and had an issue with her thyroid. I didn't want any sort of weird exploratory surgery, I just wanted her to live out her last days in peace. Which she did.

Yesterday we found her stuck in a corner of the basement, she had gotten twisted in some old computer equipment of Josh's. He picked her up and she wasn't able to stand anymore. We immediately brought her to the emergency vet. She fell asleep on Josh in the car...It was so peaceful.

We decided that it was best to let her go...She shouldn't have to live this way anymore. No more pain. If only eveyone could be so lucky.

We were there when the Doctor gave Tigger the shots to put her down. She was quiet and it was so wonderful to see that there was no pain. I petted her and and told her what a good kitty she was and she just "fell asleep." We both cried, a member of our family was gone, and that's not easy.

Next week I can pick up her ashes, and we plan on burying them in the spring when the ground has thawed under a day lily at my sister's cabin, where she can be near us as we gather for fun times at the lake.

I will miss her.

Three Day Cleanse "Day Three"

I have almost made it...If in the next 6 hours I don't rush the refrigerator in a fit of rage and start pigging out, I will have made it through my three day cleanse.

And to tell you the truth I really don't feel THAT different.

Maybe if I would have eaten like shit before I started I would be able to tell the difference, but since I'm already a vegan, I really don't notice any change.

I bet that for the average Joe it would be much like when I made the decision to stop eating animal products. After about two weeks you just feel more at peace...Your head feels clearer and your demeanor is much more calm, yet you have more energy and just feel...More happy.

I'm not even hungry anymore. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to go all Nichole Richie on your ass...I LOVE food. I have a food blog ferchirssakes...But you would think that after not eating food for three days one would be famished.

I just miss the taste of food, that's all. I enjoy cooking so much that I think that was the hardest part of all of this...Yes...Even more difficult that downing a 16 oz glass of prune juice every morning.

So, all in all, not a bad experience...and I will do it again, only maybe next time I'll find one that doesn't require the P.J. [GAG]

Oh, and for those of you who were concerned with the consistency and velocity of my poo ((Dr. K. N.), I would have to say that your description was quite accurate, and although I did not find out whether or not I could "thread a needle from 50 yards," I find that quite challenging...Maybe next time.

Three Day Cleanse "Day Two."

My second day with the cleanse is going along quite swimmingly. After, of course, I get over the wrath of the 16oz glass of prune juice I have to consume in the morning. I am home bound for at least two hours after drinking it.

Thankfully, I office out of my home to I can take my time going to where I need to be.

But I have to say, I'm sick of prune juice and I am sick of apple juice. I actually look forward to the tablespoon of olive oil just so I can have something different tasting, besides...well...juice.

This afternoon my sister suggested that I warm the prune juice in the microwave before drinking it. She said something like it makes it taste like cinnamon...I couldn't really hear her because all I could focus on was the fact that I thought I was going to barf. Gross. I want that shit as cold as she comes or I'm not drinking it.

Warm prune juice.

*Gag*

Other than that, it's not that big of a deal. I'm really not that hungry...Except when I brought in lunch for a client today. I drove the whole half mile to their dealership with my head in the bag sniffing the food. Bad idea, because that made me hungry.

I can't watch TV either, the commercials make me hungry...So if I just isolate myself in a room with no TV, no magazines,and not anything that remotely resembles food I'll be fine.

Shit, I'm just going to go to bed.

Three Day Cleanse "Day One"

I just finished my 16oz glass of prune juice...Just one of three that I will have to consume over the next three days. That, and three gallons of organic apple juice and just as much distilled water...in three days. Add three tablespoons of olive oil a day and 8 "Herbal Laxative" supplements and you have the making for one fun and craptastic cleanse!

Whoot Whoot!

Why am I doing this to myself? I mean, I'm a vegan so I already eat healthy enough as it is...

Do I like to torture myself in the form of raging diahrea?

Not really.

I just think that every once in a while we should clean out our systems. Get rid of everything that has collected in our gut so that we can feel even better.

So in order to keep myself on track I'm going to post an update every day to let those of you who care about my bowel health in on my progress.

Wish me luck.

P.S. It takes less than 45 minutes for a 16 oz glass of prune juice to kick into gear. Trust me...I know...

Frozen, but still alive.

Despite rumors of an extended game of "One Handed Croquet", I am still here, and fortunately not lost somewhere in the woods of northern Wisconsin with my croquet mallet and a cocktail.

I've been frozen, snowed in, and just plain busy. Which is no excuse.

I have, however, been spending a bit more time here. Which means I have been spending more time in the kitchen which means I have been spending more time at the gym.

It's viscous circle.

Merry Christmas!

So, Josh and I were trying to decide what picture to use for our annual Christmas card and I think we have narrowed it down to one...


Nuthin. But. Class.

I have determined that all we are missing is a car in blocks and a trailer park and we would have ourselves one fantastic white trash Christmas! Whoot Whoot!

Actually, this picture was taken at the cabin during a grueling two hour round of "One Handed Croquet." For those of you who do not know the rules of "One Handed Croquet" it is simple, you must have a cocktail in your hands at all times, if you set it down you have to start over. Trust me, it's a fantastic way to play the game, but on the flip side it usually takes twice as long to finish.

Here are some comments via email that I have already received from my friends...

Danika: "You could photoshop some Christmas ornaments to your boobs and then it would really be festive!"

Erica: "So romantic!!"

Gregg: "Nice. Reminds me of uncle Cletus and auntie Mabel."

So, take this as my wish for everyone to have a Merry Christmas and a happy and healthy 2008!

Oh, and "Yes" that is a picture of Ponch on Josh's shirt.

Casting Call!

It has recently come to my attention that my nephew is a shoe-in for a young Lloyd from "Dumb and Dumber." I find this hysterically funny.




So if anyone knows the Farrelly Brothers and they're considering writing a prequel to the prequel to the movie, tell them to call me...I have their guy.

Garden Variety Rant

I have had it. I have had it with this whole talk about "Black Friday."

Am I the only person who really could care less about how much we spent or how much retailers made on a given day in November?

I just turned on the news and that was the lead story..."Black Friday."

I can't stand it anymore...The way the newscasters talk about it with a smirk on their happy little faces like they're trying to say "Oh, look how clever we are to talk about "Black Friday" and it's cute little term with it's cute little "let's kick off the Holiday bullshit" In fact, let's take a whole long weekend to talk about this because I am sure that there is nothing better to talk about in the world like genocide or terrential monsoons that swept away peoples lives."

NEWSFLASH: THIS WAS FOUR DAYS AGO PEOPLE...BLACK FRIDAY IS OVER AND DONE WITH, MOVE ON

I'd rather them bring back the fucking bird flu crap than utter one more inane word about "Black Friday."

And then they started in about "Ciber Monday" and I nearly lost it. This is where I turned off the T.V.

"CIBER FUCKING MONDAY." As if we didn't get enough with "Black Friday" now you want me to sit here and listen to how retailers are going to gather in the hoards with their gimicks of "Free Shipping" and special on-line only sales.

Have we lost the true meaning of what this season is really about? Is it really about gifts, and shopping, and credit cards, and spending insane amounts of money on STUFF?

NO! It's NOT! It's about friends and family and get togethers, doing good for those that are less fortunate and being thankful for the things that we HAVE, not the things we are going to buy for "40% off One Day And One Day Only."

And what's the rush? Why did all those people stand outside in the cold in line at their local Walmart at 4:00 am on Friday? To save a few bucks on their flat screen TV? I'll tell you what, I can think of something I would rather be doing at 4:00am the day after a national holiday and It's called SLEEP. Not only that, but I'd be willing to pay 20% MORE than to have to stand in line and battle it out with the kind of people that would actually fall for the hype.

And to those people I have a few questions; Tell me, was it really worth it? Was it worth risking your life to be trampeled to death by some obsessed overweight couch potato who will stop at nothing to get his hands on that mediocre flat screened TV? Was it worth standing in line with screaming kids who are most probably sleep deprived thanks to their ridiculious parents who had to drag them out of bed to save a few bucks on STUFF? Was is worth wanting to drive your car off the nearest overpass because that asshole in the Dodge Neon just took the last parking space at the FREAKING MALL?

OF COURSE IT'S NOT WORTH IT...STOP IT! SERIOUSLY!

{I am attributing the above rant to my November detox. I have been 26 days without any sort of alcohol and I think it is wearing on me. Last night before I went to bed I almost started drinking my Listerine. Seriously it's that bad. All I have to say is, "Four more days to go....Four more days."
So, with that being said, If I insulted anyone in the aforementioned rant I apologize...I still think you're an idiot...But at least I'm sorry for it.}