Tag Archives: ODNT

A Year-End Report on ODNT – even though we just launched in late August


As ODNT is still very young, I’m continuing to learn the ins and out of this WordPress software that houses our little blog, which recently turned four months old. My kids were neither sleeping through the night nor eating solid foods (perhaps those two were related?) at that point so I’m still calling this stage the infancy of this blog.

Anyway, while we haven’t quite lifted our big, bulbous baby heads off the floor yet or started babbling (yeah, actually, I’ve done my share of that, haven’t I?), we have hit a lot of nice little milestones around here. And I thought I’d share some of the more interesting findings I came across in the end of the year report provided to me by WordPress about our new baby, ODNT.

Since its inception on 8/22/11 – we have gotten more than 18, 350 hits. No, I have no idea how that compares to anything …. but it sure sounds good to me!

The busiest day of the year for viewership was December 2, right after my surgery was completed. (Sniff. Thanks, Y’all.)

The most viewed posts of the year were Shall We Play a Game?, Prologue, How about Another Game – Let’s Play Boobs Around the World, The Pathology Report is In and Boobs + Mean Girl Barbies + Naked Mole Rats = Versatile Blogger.

The most commented on post of the year was Shall We Play a Game? Across the board, we heard from people hailing from 6 of the 7 continents. I’m excusing Antarctica as I imagine it’s very difficult to type with frostbitten appendages. But, to everyone else, I’m asking you to make it a resolution to SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME IN 2012! There’s nothing I like better than seeing a new comment on one of my postings. Okay, well maybe my kids … or cheese … or a masseuse who genuinely understands the meaning of ‘deep tissue’ massage … but you get the point.

I want to thank most sincerely the biggest referrers to ODNT:

The ten most popular searches for this blog (and I am omitting the endless results using the words “tits,” “boobs” or “breasts” in them – Sheesh!) are listed below:

(1) Norma StitzTechnically, this one is boob-related … but the search didn’t include any of the above words. Because people know this woman … by name! Plus, I got like a ka-billion hits thanks to her famous attributes so I thought she earned the title spot here.

(2) Don’t you think that’s some information I would like to know? – If you haven’t seen this AT&T commercial, turn on your damned TV, you high-browed hippies. My family and I think it’s funny enough that we weave into almost as many conversations as Seinfeld references. And I managed to work it into two blog posts so when you google it, I’m second up.

(3) 50/50, the movie – I wrote a simple little movie review for this film when I caught it with my friend, Kelley, a while back. Sure bought me a lot of traffic. Good movie, too, if you don’t mind a little Seth Rogen playing Seth Rogen.

(4) Royal Bitch/Sweet Bitch/Sassy Bitch wine – I guess you just can’t beat a wine label with a bitch-slapping, bad ass name. Wait, that could be the label on my bottle ….

(5) Throw your arms around the world at Christmas time/BAND-AIDWhat can I say? A child of the 80s writes the post she’s been wanting to write for decades. And, apparently, the world still loves the old song as much as she does.

(6) On the 1st day of Christmas, my true love gave to me funny sayings Gosh, I hope my post lived up to their ‘funny’ expectations.

(7) The Ultimate Wedding DressHoly crap! How disappointed do you think these brides-to-be were when they saw my sweet girl’s real-cherry-pits-sewn-into-the-ruffle design. Or wait! Maybe I should have attached a sizing chart and order form!

(8) Humor family comment or blog Yay! My name came up. But … oh, God … the pressure! And it was probably one of those days that I wrote a “very special episode of ODNT.” Sigh.

(9) How to get hair dye out of pillowcasesDouble crap! My post only talks about creating the stain. There’s no assistance offered in removing it. I’m picturing some pretty pissed off redheads right about now.

(10) The Mass on my LungWell, here’s one of the few places where my musings might have actually helped someone. Here’s hoping they did.

And one more … to grow on …

Wrinkly, small penisYou had to see this one coming, right? Can you imagine the reactions of these googlers when they were … mistakenly … introduced to my little friend, the naked mole rat? I still can’t believe ‘naked mole rat’ wasn’t among the search terms. I need to get those little weasels on the map!

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Happy New Year! And while I’m on my letter writing campaign …


(1) Dear Body Shop Boutique ... Please reconfigure your store’s holiday displays into a much roomier, customer-friendly arrangement. Sorry I took out your entire Cranberry Joy Collection with my purse, but let’s consider the fact that I’m a 5’4″, 115-lb. (well, before Christmas anyway) small woman. The average male customer perusing your wares would’ve taken out a whole aisle.

(2) Dear Ice Cream Counter at the Mall ... Do you really think having a cake display on your counter called “Better than Sex” directly behind Santa’s village where every freakin’ kid stops for eggnog ice cream is a good idea? Because I don’t. And I promise I’m snagging the sign from your business next year.

(3) Dear Photo Processing Supplies Company … Can you please change whatever chemical you use on the surface of all photographic prints (specifically from Walgreen’s) to something less delicious to my cat? Every year, I spend entirely too much time strategizing my Christmas card display to ensure that all the low-hanging cards are free of photographs, so that they are not licked and bitten beyond recognition.

(4) Dear Tinsel Manufacturing Company … I am also suggesting that you, like the photo processing supplies company, change your product’s “recipe.” We had to give up on you years ago as Christmas tree tinsel is apparently a delicacy in the feline community. Our previous (diabetic) cat, Toby, always managed to sneak his share of tinsel from the tree which never much worried us until, one day, we saw him running wildly around the house being chased, it would appear, by his own feces. As it turned out, the tinsel had passed all the way through his system. One end stayed in him while the other lodged itself into his ball of waste. True story. Which I just took the time to write about and, worse, you just took the time to read.

(5) Dear Specialty Toy Stores … If you’re going to have adult games available on your shelves, please create a special section … if not a back room … for these items. My kids spent the entire afternoon cutting up about them (and, I think, quoting the boxes on a few hushed occasions). We had to leave your store so fast that we didn’t buy anything anyway. And I promise I would have. Every other damned store at the mall got some of my money that day.

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(6) Dear Santa … Apparently, one of us should’ve gotten gifts for the caterpillar/butterfly habitat my daughter keeps on our porch these days. Way to drop the ball, jolly man. Said my girl, “Bubba Chubba and Kevin are sad that we forgot them.” (Yes, those are real names. One of them definitely lost the name lottery. I won’t say who.)

(7) To My Children’s Preschool Teachers of Yesteryear ... Thank you for introducing my kids and I to the art of reindeer food creation. I have come to love the annual tradition of making food to leave out for Santa’s fleet. The only recurring ingredient each year is raw oatmeal. Everything else is whatever I’ve got lots of … and am looking to get rid of … in the house. This year’s menu included some old parsley flakes and paprika as well as blue and pink face glitter (“to catch the light and help the reindeer find the food”) left over from my girl’s school play. It is the best way I’ve found to clean out my pantry and spice cabinet in years. Hmmm, I wonder if I could feed them stuffed animal spare parts next year. Those nappy little critters are taking over this house.

(8) Dear Manufacturer of the Shirt I wore on Christmas Eve … Please improve the quality of your zippers. When I tried the shirt on in the morning to select my evening attire, the zipper locked up on me, trapping me inside for the entirety of the day. And dressy black shirts do not really complement the sweat pants and unshowered mess that was the rest of me for all of my last minute holiday errands throughout the day.

(9) Dear Drugstore located Two Minutes from My House … You lost my business on Christmas Eve because of the annual “rock” concert you hold in your store each year. I know I sound like a Scrooge, but I needed to get in and out of your store in a hurry but everything was entirely too packed for me to even consider stopping in. So, the next closest drugstore got my business. And I spent $163.53. Just so you know.

(10) Dear Sanitation Department and Letter Carrier … Do you really care about political correctness on my girl’s homemade greeting cards to you each year? She seems to struggle to fit these lengthy titles in her festive holiday designs. Would ‘garbage men’ and ‘postman’ be acceptable next year? Also, did you like the candy canes/cookies?

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(11) Dear Lady Next to Me at Church on Christmas Eve … Fishnet stockings?

(12) Dear Me … Remember that your kids are always listening … and somehow, apparently, reading. Which is why, when your boy asked about the mysterious gift tag on his dad’s present that read ‘To Dave, From ODNT, your girl said … without hesitation … “That stands for Old Dog New Tits.”  You, dumb ass, now get the joy of explaining to her what ‘tits’ means and why she can’t use the word anymore. And then, you get to deal with what will undoubtedly be her implicit disapproval.

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‘Twas the Night before Christmas (Mystery Science Theater 3000-style)


It’s Christmas Eve and what I really want to do is reference you back to my first stab at this parody business entitled ‘Twas a Week Since my Surg’ry” … but that would be lazy, right?  And sooo tacky.  So, I’ll just link you to it and we’ll get to work today on an entirely new version of the famous poem by Clement C. Moore.

My surgery set me back a bit this season, but thanks to my new friend, Honest Mom, for virtually slapping me across the face yesterday … and to Dave for wrapping more gifts in one day than he has so far in his lifetime, I think we’re going to make it.  Now, I just have to wrap his gifts and finish a little easy last minute shopping at the drugstore, conveniently located five minutes away. Well, except that we haven’t prepared a thing for the Christmas Eve dinner we host for my family every year. (Don’t tell them but I’m totally going to get everything from the ready-made section of my local grocery store.)

Anyway, I literally got out of bed to type this morning when these verses started running through my head. Don’t get me wrong.  I love Christmas.  Always have.  But the stress and pressure this year?  Well, it’s killing me. Please allow me to elaborate.

——————————————–

‘Twas the night before Christmas
When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a mouse

Okay, first of all, gross! My house does not have mice, thanks to Orkin pest control. And, if it did, you can bet my ass would be doing plenty of stirring, to say the least.  And secondly, hello? Even rodent-free, I will be ‘stirring’ until at least midnight to get everything done tonight. 

The stockings were hung
By the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas
Soon would be there

Damn, I wish that I hadn’t upgraded us to those stupid new stockings last year. Those things are huge.  Let’s just say it’s a lot more work for ‘St. Nicholas’ to get the job done.

The children were nestled
All snug in their beds
While visions of sugar plums
Danced in their heads

God, I wish their wants were as simple and inexpensive as ‘sugar plums.’ Not that I have any idea what they are anyway.  And they sound British, so the shipping alone probably negates the savings. I wonder if Amazon even carries them and if they’d qualify for my Prime membership with free shipping. Do I really want something with ‘sugar’ in its name though? Isn’t that why the marketing geniuses at Sugar Smacks changed the name to Honey Smacks years ago? What parent in their right mind would buy something for their child that starts with the word ‘sugar?’

And mama in her kerchief
And I in my cap
Had just settled our brains
For a long winter’s nap

This story is told from the mom’s point of view so I guess that would put Dave in the kerchief.  And, seriously, if he ever tries to go to sleep wearing a kerchief, I will Gilligan-slap him with my cap.  And I will post a picture of him in this kerchief here and all over Facebook so you’ll be the first to know. Oh, and settling ‘our brains for long winter’s nap?’ What are we … bears?

When out on the lawn
There arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed
To see what was the matter

Geez, Santa. Can you and your fleet please keep it down out there so my kids stay ‘nestled?’ I’ve got work to do here.

Away to the window
I flew like a flash
Tore open the shudders
And threw up the sash

Great. Thanks a lot, Santa. Now I need to get to Home Depot the day after Christmas to replace my shudders. And, apparently, my sash.   What aisle are the sashes on?

The moon on the breast
Of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday
To objects below

I wonder how many weasels who google ‘breast’ looking for, you know, wind up being directed to ODNT … or this poem. Maybe the famed poet used ‘breast’ as a tag for his poem to get more hits on his website.  Duh. Yes, I know they didn’t have Google back in the 1800s. In the early days, they used stuff like Lycos and WebCrawler.

When what to my wondering
Eyes should appear
But a miniature sleigh
Any eight tiny reindeer

Whoa, maybe I need to back off the pain meds. This is way worse that swaying fan blades. And, more importantly, where the hell is Rudolph?

With a little old driver
So lively and quick
I knew in a moment
It must be St. Nick

Old? Fine.  But little?  No offense, Santa, but I have no idea how you can be either ‘lively’ or ‘quick.’ Seriously, what’s your secret? Wait … it’s ‘sugar’ plums, isn’t it?

More rapid than eagles
His coursers they came
And he whistled and shouted
And called them by name

OMG, Santa! Will you please keep it down?

Now Dasher, Now Dancer
Now Prancer and Vixen
On Comet, On Cupid
On Donner and Blitzen

Comet? Vixen? Who named these deer anyway?  And, again, where the hell is Rudolph?

To the top of the porch
To the top of the wall
Now dash away, dash away
Dash away all

Dash away? Wait, you haven’t even come in yet.  Oh, and please get the reindeer off the porch.  Last year, they knocked off a ton of shingles and we spent the week between Christmas and New Year’s fixing the damned roof.

As dry leaves that before
The wild hurricane fly
When they meet with an obstacle
Mount to the sky

Hurricanes? Uncool, Mr. Moore, uncool.  We, New Orleanians, do not want to be concerned with hurricanes on Christmas Eve.  So, I’m suggesting the following replacement options: ‘As dry leaves put in my daughter’s mud pie’ or maybe ‘As dry leaves cluster across my lawn (sigh).’ Ooh, and one more.  ‘As dry leaves indicate the plant’s gonna die.’ You can have any and all of them.  Consider them my gift.  Just get ‘hurricane’ out of that poem.

So up to the housetop
The coursers they flew
With a sleigh full of toys
And St. Nicholas, too

Again, with the coursers? What’s with the ten dollar word, Mr. Moore?  You do realize that ‘reindeer’ would’ve worked fine here, too, right?

And then in a twinkling
I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing
Of each little hoof

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As I drew in my head
And was turning around
Down the chimney St. Nicholas
Came with a bound

A bound??? Now, you’re not even trying.  I’m going to bed.  If you wake them up, YOU deal with it.

He was dressed all in fur
From his head to his foot
And his clothes were all tarnished
With ashes and soot

As Mrs. Claus, I would be so pissed at having to get out ash and soot stains every year.  You know how tired that poor woman probably is by the 26th?  And how do you think the reindeer feel about Santa dressing ‘all in fur?’ That outfit is probably red from years of PETA followers throwing buckets of blood all over the old man.  Santa, ever consider an upgrade? I found this fly red track suit you might be interested in.

A bundle of toys
He had flung on his back
And he looked like a peddler
Just opening his pack

Honestly, if someone fell down my chimney in the middle of the night … his appearance (‘peddler’ or otherwise) … would send me running for the panic button on my house alarm’s keypad.

His eyes how they twinkled
His dimples how merry
His cheeks were like roses
His nose like a cherry

It sounds like you have a terrible case of eczema right now, Santa.  Very common for this time of year.  You really should see a dermatologist about it before it gets any worse.

His droll little mouth
Was drawn up like a bow
And the beard of his chin
Was as white as the snow

Seriously, if you don’t take care of that skin problem, that beautiful beard is going to start falling out in clumps.

The stump of his pipe
He held tight in his teeth
And the smoke, it encircled his head
Like a wreath

I cannot believe you smoked in my house.  Geez, Santa.  It’s 2011. Get some help. http://www.nicodermcq.com/

He had a broad face
And a round little belly
That shook when he laughed
Like a bowl full of jelly

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He was chubby and plump
A right jolly, old elf
And I laughed when I saw him
In spite of myself

I know, I know.  How many times can I apologize?  I’m sorry.  It’s just that with the bowl-full-of-jelly-thing and the red face … well, YOU try not to laugh.

A wink of his eye
And a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know
I had nothing to dread

I’m not afraid of you, jolly man! … And stop winking at me, creeper.

He spoke not a word
But went straight to his work
And filled all the stockings
Then turned with a jerk

I get this mental picture in my brain every time I hear this line.

And laying his finger
Aside of his nose
And giving a nod
Up the chimney he rose

As a child, I always heard “inside of his nose.” Kleenex, Santa?

He sprang to his sleigh
To his team gave a whistle
And away they all flew
Like the down of a thistle

Sure.  Go ahead, whistle.  My kids have been awake for hours now anyway.

Then I heard him exclaim
As he drove out of sight
Happy Christmas to all
And to all a good night

Well, at least they were awake to hear your good tidings.  But were we the last stop in our neighborhood … or was everyone else naughty?  Shouldn’t you be going to other houses tonight?  Also, are you British?  I love the expression ‘Happy Christmas’ and just wrote about it yesterday.  Did you read my ‘Throw your arms around the World’ post?  (That’s ridiculous. Like Santa has time to read ODNT these days.)

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That Suburban Momma

Boobs + Mean Girl Barbies + Naked Mole Rats = Versatile Blogger


I first embarked on my ODNT adventure just as summer was ending and my kids were returning to school. It seemed like the best time to take on something new, especially given the roots of this project. And, in deciding to start writing again, I also decided to start reading again. Not only have I read five lengthy books since June (yes, I know that sounds pathetic but, if you know me at all, you want to feed me a dog treat right about now), but I’m also reading a lot other blogs. All over the place. It’s always good to know what and who else is out there. And what I’ve learned is that there are a lot of hilarious, crazy, articulate and touching writers in the world. (Right when I had concluded that it was mostly full of idiots. Cynical jackass that I am.)

So, now with an enlightened mind and an open heart (sort of like the Grinch at the end of his infamous tale), I sincerely appreciate and accept the nomination given to me by one of my favorite fellow bloggers, El Guapo, for a Versatile Blogger Award.

The nomination carries with it the following guidelines:

* Nominate 15 fellow bloggers.

These people are all important to me for different reasons.

* Inform the bloggers of their nominations.

That job will be taken care of following this post. You’re welcome to come along for the ride with me but, be forewarned, my car is a mess and we’re also taking my cat to the vet for his annual shots.

* Share 7 random things about yourself.

1. I triple pierced my ear on a ferry boat when I was 14.

2. I didn’t learn to ride a bike until I was 8 years old.

3. I have delivered court subpoenas for money. (Don’t judge me!)

4. I was hired as the lead singer for a band in college but quit because I didn’t want to travel with guys I didn’t know.

5. I was on the homecoming court one year in high school.

6. I was mugged at gunpoint with friends after my own Sweet Sixteen party.

7. I once attended a bachelorette party at someone’s house and wound up knowing the male stripper.

And a little something extra … or lagniappe, as we say in New Orleans …

I wrote a children’s book about my daughter of which I’m pretty proud. One day, maybe I’ll publish it.

* Thank the blogger who nominated you.

Thanks again, El Guapo. I enjoy everything you write and am still waiting on my Christmas delivery of cheese soup, as cheese in any form is never a mistake. To everyone else, if you haven’t read him yet, get on it. The dishes … and the kids … can wait. Seriously, his name references The Three Amigos. Do you need more than that for your interest to be piqued? I sure didn’t.

* Add the Versatile Blog Award logo on your blog post.

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Thanks again to my pal, Guap, and all of the awesome people who check in with me from time to time. I especially like when you take the time to comment. You guys are all way funnier than me. Happy Christmas!

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ODNT’s Answer to The 12 Days of Christmas


If this holiday-themed retrospective was on 1970s variety show television, it would have been done as a montage-style flashback. You would have been treated to lavish Bob Mackie-esque costuming, elaborate set changes and interstitial vocal performances by Country & Western guest stars like Dolly Parton and Glen Campbell. There would be Osmond-quality sketch comedy featuring such talents as Rich Little, Don Rickles and Ruth Buzzi. Plus, there would very likely be ice dancing. Unfortunately, you’ve only got me. And my trusty sidekick, the MacBook Pro. But we’ve worked hard for you tonight on this nostalgic walk down memory lane. Won’t you join us as we take a look at some of our many laughs together here at ODNT? (cue the cheesy music please) ….

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a website called ODNT.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me two guest writers and a website called ODNT.

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me three daughter posts, two guest writers and a website called ODNT.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me four bitchy Barbies, three daughter posts, two guest writers and a website called ODNT.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me five boob doctors, four bitchy Barbies, three daughter posts, two guest writers and a website called ODNT.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me six doppelgängers, five boob doctors, four bitchy Barbies, three daughter posts, two guest writers and a website called ODNT.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me seven sets of man boobs, six doppelgängers, five boob doctors, four bitchy Barbies, three daughter posts, two guest writers and a website called ODNT.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me eight Katy searches, seven sets of man boobs, six doppelgängers, five boob doctors, four bitchy Barbies, three daughter posts, two guest writers and a website called ODNT.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me nine boob occasions, eight Katy searches, seven sets of man boobs, six doppelgängers, five boob doctors, four bitchy Barbies, three daughter posts, two guest writers and a website called ODNT.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me ten funny trip quotes, nine boob occasions, eight Katy searches, seven sets of man boobs, six doppelgängers, five boob doctors, four bitchy Barbies, three daughter posts, two guest writers and a website called ODNT.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me eleven tweets on mole rats, ten funny trip quotes, nine boob occasions, eight Katy searches, seven sets of man boobs, six doppelgängers, five boob doctors, four bitchy Barbies, three daughter posts, two guest writers and a website called ODNT.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me twelve* boob job experts, eleven tweets on mole rats, ten funny trip quotes, nine boob occasions, eight Katy searches, seven sets of man boobs, six doppelgängers, five boob doctors, four bitchy Barbies, three daughter posts, two guest writers and a website called ODNT.

* Because I now fancy myself a bit of an expert, too.

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A post about Grinches, and childhood TV – As great for my kids, as it was for me


I caught How the Grinch Stole Christmas on the Cartoon Network with my girl tonight.  Like most of the planet, it’s one of my perennial holiday favorites and I never miss the chance to watch it at least once every Christmas season.  I’ve worked hard to get my kids hooked on the classics like this one as well as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, A Charlie Brown Christmas, Santa Claus is Coming to Town and (cult-favorite) A Year without a Santa Claus.  If you’re within ten years of my age in either direction, you should be able to recite any line from any character from any of these shows.  Or, unlike me, you were not watching enough television.

But tonight, we’re talking about the TV Grinch, which is forty-five years old this year.  Or rather WHO is forty-five years old.  And speaking of Whos, how hideously adorable were those little creatures?  Sort of like how an ugly pug puppy somehow manages to be cute.  I have to think Cindy Lou Who grew up to win a great many beauty contests in Whoville.  She was precious and looked nothing like her fellow townspeople.  Of course, that could have also been exactly the kind of thing to make her an outcast.  Perhaps she was the Marilyn Munster of her infinitesimal little neighborhood.

Yes, I said infinitesimal.

Because, as we learned in Seuss/Geisel’s earlier Horton Hears a Who!  (published in 1954, a few years earlier than the original Grinch book in 1957), the entire community of Whoville was actually located on a speck of dust.  The writers sort of dropped that detail when the Christmas special was adapted from his books.  Seriously, how menacing would this “Grinch” be when you realized you needed a microscope to see his dastardly deeds?

Still, he managed to be a pretty scary dude to me as a child.  Never mind the fact that he was voiced by Frankenstein himself, Boris Karloff.  The first few times you watched the show and you didn’t know what was coming, you were thinking … This isn’t a Christmas show.  This is a horror film.  Why are my parents letting me watch this terrifying, dentally-challenged Yeti wreak his terror on the sweet, unwitting, holiday spirit-filled residents in the valley below?  And then, towards the end, the Grinch finally smiled and you saw that he had eyelashes … and dimples, albeit ugly ones.  And that overly frou-frou brass frame that illustrated the size of his tiny heart is busted when it explodes with his newfound holiday cheer. So finally more relaxed, you were able to exhale and unclench, and you thought … Okay, my parents aren’t as irresponsible as I feared.  I will now be able to sleep at night, knowing that Max didn’t fall to his untimely death off the side of Mount Crumpit.  That would have been an absolutely terrible thing for a child to see.

Of course, there are some other little details and bits of trivia about the show I wanted to mention. (It wouldn’t be an ODNT entry without a list lately, right?) …

The opening song in the show is called ‘Welcome Christmas.’  I think my brother and I just always called it ‘Pahoo Doray.’ Ah, Seuss and his delightfully inventive vocabulary. Here’s just one version of the lyrics I found for the song. http://www.allthelyrics.com/lyrics/dr_seuss/welcome_christmas-lyrics-1146415.html

Of course, the most renowned song from the special is ‘You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.’ Also know as the second song on my iPod’s Christmas playlist.  It was sung by Thurl Ravenscroft, who was accidentally uncredited for this ridiculously memorable work as well as for his work as the original voice  for Kellogg’s Tony the Tiger. For fifty years.  Stupid early Hollywood robbed this old man.  I feel sorry for him and, if he were here, I would give him a hug.

Even more interesting vocal work comes from June Foray, who did the voice for Cindy Lou Who. Dubbed (yes, I picked that word on purpose) the female Mel Blanc, this woman has done the voices of Rocky (Rocky & Bullwinkle), Granny (Warner Brothers) and Karen (Frosty the Snowman … Frosty! That’s another good one.) And she was the voice of the original ‘Chatty Cathy’ doll.

Oh, and I stole this quote directly from Wikipedia … A television special called Halloween Is Grinch Night, a prequel created by DePatie-Freleng Enterprises, aired on ABC in 1977, 11 years after the Christmas special. This special involved a tale of the Grinch coming down to scare the Whos every Halloween. Though less successful than the original, it was awarded an Emmy.  …….. I would so love to see his undoubtedly crappy prequel.

And my last comment for the night … not because I’m really finished here but because I’m tapped out for the day … does anyone remember fearing a mustard-colored grinch from their childhood? When did this weasel become green?  Was it just my maladjusted television set as a youth?  Mom? Dad?

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Warning – there is a picture of a real, live tumor embedded in this post


Alright, I’m going to stall a bit. Why, you ask? Because when this blog post is opened on your laptops, tablets, smart phones, etc., I need there to be enough text here to fill the screen. I want you to have to scroll down to see the picture below. I don’t want it to pop up unexpectedly and frighten anyone. So, I need to fill a little space here and use long words like “hippopotomonstrosesquipedalian” which, ironically, means of or pertaining to extremely long words … and “floccinaucinihilipilification” which means the estimation of something as valueless, such as this introductory passage. I could even use this opportunity to extol the many virtues of the East African Naked Mole Rat but, after yesterday, we all know where dedicated ODNT follower, El Guapo, stands on these beloved rodents. So, I’ll try to resist the urge.

(A distant voice calls out from offstage. Speaker turns to acknowledges the voice.) What? That’s enough? (Turns back to address the audience) Okay. Well, let’s get on with it then.

A few days ago, I mentioned that I actually had a picture of my old friend, the lung mass, taken during surgery last week. And I decided to let you determine whether or not I would post this picture … in all of its blood-and-gutsy glory … on the blog. And do you know that, despite having featured three prior polls all related to boobs aka the roots if not the backbone of this website, the ‘Wanna see a picture of the tumor?’ poll had the greatest response to date. (I guess I could change the ‘T’ in ODNT to tumor.)

There were three options available in the poll – yes, no and do-whatever-but-warn-me-first. Because the yes vote was so much higher than the no vote, we at ODNT decided to do it … and, per the request of many, we are warning you first.

So, all of that said, I give you … the tumor.

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I’m pretty sure you can identify it (dead center) in this picture but, to give you your bearings, the rings around it that appear on the left are my ribs. Directly beneath it in black is some kind of major artery. And the slightly deflated pink entity below that is my lung. Dave thinks it looks like the top of Patrick’s starfish head. (My daughter watches a lot of SpongeBob.)

Yes, it’s gross. It’s a body’s interior after all. But I’ll add that my family said that the doctors and medical staff couldn’t stop talking about my beautifully pink, healthy insides. I’m blushing.

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