I had a â€œPretty Womanâ€ moment the other day. Movie, not song. And no, I wasnâ€™t picked up by a zillionaire knight in shining armour blah blah blah. Remember when Jules walked into a fancy shmancy store and they snubbed her? Then she returned with Dick and bought out the place? â€œBig mistake. Huge.â€
I think American Idol is the new Miss America â€“ itâ€™s just all the talent competition. Or maybe itâ€™s Oscar Night. But less boring.
With each move, I’d fill bag after bag of no longer needed stuff. What was one person’s crap was another person’s treasure. Or whatever. Either way, I thought I was paring down quite nicely. I was embracing the whole simple living thing. Or at least pretending to. Really I was just getting rid of the fat pants/skinny pants â€“ insert whichever fits.
…she has a couple of kids. Boys. Boys who, she claimed, â€œare much easier than girls. And much nicer.â€ She turned to leave but first, looking me square in the eye, she added, â€œgirls are bitches.” Whoa! What was up her ass?
Elliottâ€™s the never-a-dry-eye guy. He’s the one who overcame it all â€“ illness, deafness, those teeth â€“ to get to the final three. He’s the modest counter-boy who adores his mother. And, of course, heâ€™s the biggest weeper on primetime TV. Who wouldnâ€™t cry for him?
I learned that my own mother, the queen of the mom/daughter love affair, the biggest promoter of parent-offspring bonding EVER, the Maharaja of mothers would not be there. She was devastated. I thought for sure we were doomedâ€¦
I say have Motherâ€™s Week. Like Reading Week, or Spring Break, but for moms. That way, the mommies really can have it all: time with their kids, time with their parents, and time by themselves. Apparently thatâ€™s what most moms really want â€“ time alone.
Raising his voice, he told me there were 30 kids living on the block and I was a danger on the road. It was all I could do to not let my potty mouth get the better of me. Instead, I figured, Iâ€™d show him! And took off as fast as my little car could carry me. Bite my dust, scumbag!
I donâ€™t know who was most surprised â€“ the judges, Kitty, or the Bald One himself. Total devastation. Now that is good tv. With nary a dry eye, we said bye bye to Mr Daughtry, the rock â€˜n roller who was waaaay too alterna rock for AI in the first place. And yet, we liked him, we really liked him.
I’m always amazed when a seemingly brisk business disappears in a cloud of dust. Sometimes, they make an announcement, or, better still, have a sale, giving us a chance to go in and vulturize the place. Admit it, thereâ€™s nothinâ€™ like a good going out of business sale. It makes the bad closing-down news much more palatable.