Tag Archives: “Old Dog New Tits”

Please send my Mother of the Year award to the following address …


Today was the last day of Christmas break with my kids.  Yes, I know that kind of statement is usually followed by exclamation points … and arena-quality cannon bursts of confetti.  But, believe it or not, I’m writing it with a little sadness in my heart. I love my little rats, both of whom are getting far too old for my comfort level.  And I kind of like having them around, even when they squabble like chickens and can’t go for more than two minutes without reporting the other’s misdeeds to me.

So today … on this last day before their “torture” resumes tomorrow … I planned a little outing for us where we could do a few of the things we wanted to do before the break was through. Among them was seeing a movie, which I let them pick. “Anything PG,” I said naively.

Did I just get home from the hospital with the formula samples? Have I not been doing this for more than a decade? What was I thinking?

What I meant to say was “What do you want to see … the Muppet Movie or Arthur Christmas?”  I figured they’ve both gotten great reviews and one offers a little nostalgia from my generation while the other offers a nice ending point for our holiday season.  Either way, I’d be happy.  … So, why in the HELL did I stupidly say, “Anything PG?” … Why?

The next thing I know, we were all in the car headed to the movie theater to see … Alvin & The Chipmunks – Chipwrecked. To those of you who haven’t been following over the years, this film is the third installment of the modern Chipmunks movies.  And … in case you were wondering … No! I do not expect a trilogy of prequels to be released twenty years later featuring the ancestors of the current characters.

Just to get you up to speed, when I looked up our three movie choices for the day on my ‘Flixter’ (Rotten Tomatoes) app, I found the following critics’ approval ratings:

Muppets – 96%

Arthur Christmas – 92%

Alvin & the Chipmunks – 13%

Okay, we’re all on the same page. We now return to our regularly scheduled post.

One of the best parts of today’s movie experience was getting to hear one of my favorite songs (Light & Day,’ Polyphonic Spree) being used in an upcoming kids’ movie entitled Dr. Seuss’ The Lorax. I can offer no endorsement for that movie here though.  I got so caught up in the song that I more or less ignored the actual trailer. And, after a series of other trailers came and went, our feature film began.  I could see that my kids were very excited about it … so I decided to sit back, shut up, enjoy my silo of Diet Coke and ingest a little junk, both in food and theatrical form, with my little people.

The movie started, as always Chipmunkian cinema does, with the harmonious little rodents performing their version of another artist’s song.  (Seriously, have they ever sung anything original outside of their beloved Christmas Song?) In this case, it was Vacation (first popularized by the Go-Gos in the 80s).  And I immediately thought to myself … I wonder what kind of royalties are paid to the original artist(s) when your song gets Chipmunk’d.  Also, is it a good thing or a bad thing … meaning are you honored to be counted among the elite artists mimicked in these high-pitched cover versions?  Maybe it’s like when your song gets Weird Al Yankovic’d.  That’s got to be good, right?  So far, none of my songs have been Yankovic’d, which I think would be just … awesome.

Anyway, I settled into the movie … happy to be entertained by two actors I’ve always liked, Jason Lee and David Cross.  I’ve seen them both in numerous roles but Lee’s ‘Earl Hickey’ and Cross’ ‘Tobias Funke’ are probably my favorites.  (When Dave reads this post, he will argue that Cross’ ‘Slow Donnie’ is better.  And, while he does make a good point, the body of Tobias’s work is just so much more impressive to me.) I have no idea why two such talented actors would literally ‘Chipwreck’ themselves into these movies, the most recent of which offering cheap references to Castaway, the honey badger and the Dos Equis ‘Most Interesting Man in the World’ ad campaign.  (Yeah, you guessed it.  They replaced ‘man’ with ‘monk.’ And it was hiLARious!)

But I hate to say too much more. It would pain me to think that I ruined the plot for anyone.  And that’s not what today was really about anyway.  The important thing is that my kids liked it.  A lot. And when they asked if I liked it when the movie was over, I said what every other mother worth her salt would say, “Um, it was better than I thought.” When they asked about my favorite part, I quickly came up with “Uh … the zipline part, because it reminded me of our summer vacation.” When they asked who was my favorite chipmunk, I said, “I guess Theodore, ’cause he’s the cute, little fat baby with the Puss ‘n’ Boots eyes.”

And when they continued poking at it with a stick and asked if they could get the movie on DVD when it was released, I said, “What? Are you freakin’ kidding me? That stupid chipmunk movie?!!? Please! It wasn’t that good.  We don’t need to own every damned movie we ever see on DVD! My … GOD!”

Alright, fine. I’m lying.  But wouldn’t that have been funnier my real response? “Um … sure.  I guess.  We’ll see.”

Like I said, I love those little rats.  And I sure am going to miss them tomorrow.  Whether you believe me or not.

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Wake up, AMC. Polar Express is on and you’ve got kids watching!


It’s the last day of the year. A great day to lay around, eat like a pig and be mean to everyone … because the resolutions don’t start until tomorrow, right? And, while I don’t consider my next action to be mean-spirited in the slightest, I thought I’d share with you some of my anger and frustration over a recent experience involving my young daughter, AMC’s airing of The Polar Express and a highly inappropriate advertisement shown during the program. So today, I sent out a little email.

——————–

Dear American Movie Classics (AMC),

I want to thank you for continuing to air so many of the holiday classics I enjoy with my kids each year. I cherish sharing this annual tradition with them and getting to see the newer movies as well as introducing them to some of the older ones from my generation.

This year, my family celebrated Christmas over the course of two days, the 25th and 26th. As with many families, it’s the only way we can fit everyone and everything in during this crazy season. So, by the time we returned home from our two-day affair, we were all completely exhausted and just looking to relax in front of the television. My husband and son opted for football in the den while my daughter and I snuggled into my bed to watch Polar Express on AMC. She absolutely loves that movie and often brings in all of her stuffed animals to join in the fun whenever we tune in.

It was the perfect closing to our Christmas celebration and very special for both us … until one of your commercial breaks. Can you give me any reason to explain why your advertising department would have elected to place the following commercial during this classic children’s Christmas special???

I spent the rest of the commercial break trying to explain to my young daughter why this ‘back massager’ was just for women. And … I’m just wondering … who was asleep at the wheel when the ad schedule was drawn up? And … is he or she still employed with AMC?

Please respond with an explanation at your earliest convenience. I’m just dying to learn how this could have happened.

Sincerely,

Blah – Blah – Blah


Happy New Year! Be safe tonight!

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Our family just got a little bigger, meaner and more fashionable


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We’ve got Stavros, Pavlina, Bianca and a different blonde Barbie than we met in our original mean girl Barbie post. When we were cruising websites for Christmas gift ideas, my girl took one look at Tiffany, our frizzy-haired friend from the first post, and said, “Uuuuck. No way. She is UUUUG-LY!” So, she chose a different blonde Barbie for her Christmas list. And one who I think looks a lot like a Giselle.

And the first thing I noticed is that Barbie footwear has seen major technological innovation since I was a kid. Back then, we loved the beautiful shoes, every one of them six-inch stilettos, but we knew there’d never be with us for long. They slipped on and off with the ease of a slip-on house shoe. We hated losing them but we accepted that it was just a matter of time ’til one was gone, rendering its mate completely useless. And, after a while, you gave up on shoes altogether and your doll just became a Julia Roberts-esque hippie chic woman who wore everything from cruise wear to evening gowns with no shoes at all.

Until now!

In 2011, the shoes click on. Did you hear me? They click on. And actually sort of lock in place. I mean, it’s not Fort Knox, but I’d say it could cut the propensity for loss by 50 percent. That’s huge! Huge, I tell you! And, if that’s not enough, this new shoe ‘technology’ is a plus for the cat, too. There’s a greatly reduced chance that any of these pointy little shoes will be navigating themselves through this colon any time soon. And his good news is everyone’s good news.

(Two quick side notes: (A) Only some of the Barbie models have this new shoe-locking technology. Why? How should I know? Nepotism? Blackmail? Or some other inappropriate behavior that I don’t even want to think about between Barbie and her wardrobe designers. AND (B) I wonder if we’ve lost all the male readers at this point.)

Sadly though, my girl didn’t like any of my names for the crew. She said, “Stavros is ridiculous. That’s not even a name.” I tried to explain that he was a Greek exchange student working at the Gap until he made enough money for head shots and a one-way ticket to New York. Because his dream was to come to America and pursue a male modeling career. But she just rolled her eyes and said “No, Mommy.”

I think I love my girl’s new friends as much as she does. She has her names for them. And I have mine. From left to right … my names, then hers.

Pavlina – Stephanie
Stavros – Andre
Bianca – Bridget
Giselle – Lexie

So, we’ve now cleared off the built-in desk in her room and transformed it into Barbie Central. The dining set she got from my sister-in-law is featured prominently in the middle of the ‘house.’ I cracked up when I took a good look at the assembled box this morning.

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“Oh, no. Ken is late!” ??? … Girl, you are a gorgeous woman who nails every profession she tries. Dump his ass, throw something on from your Fashionistas World Tour Collection and go for a spin in your Corvette.

I see hours and hours of Barbie play in my future. I think she even asked her dad to join in the fun tomorrow. That should put an interesting spin on things. Plus, I’m totally going to make him be Stavros. And speak with a Greek accent. My girl wants him to have a French accent. We’ll see …


Oh, and in the style of television programming from my youth, I’ve included a few outtakes of tonight’s Barbie photo session at the end of this post. It was very important to the cat (Milo) to be a part of this activity. It may well be the best part of today’s entry.

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Wishing you all the best from all the hardworking people here at ODNT


It’s Christmas morning and I’m thankful to have much more to do today than sit at my stupid computer. I just wanted to give you all my best and leave you with two of my favorite Christmas videos. (Had I chosen to post three favorites, you’d also be watching Schweddy Balls right now.)

Here’s the original. My mom got me hooked on Bing Crosby when I was still just a baby. David Bowie, I fell in love with on my own.

And here’s the remake. These guys mimicked every little detail, down to the very end, where they stray … just a little. Enjoy.

Happy Holidays from ODNT!

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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

http://jennycraig.com/

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

“Throw your arms around the world at Christmas time” (except for George Michael – the guy from Wham!, not Michael Cera)


12/11/14 … I wrote this post almost tHREE years ago but it seems like a great fit for MamaKat’s writing prompt today: “Take a line from a song you love and turn it into the title of your next blog post. Let the content follow.” Easy.

I saw Rock of Ages a few weeks ago with Ashley and Vanessa, both of whom are a few years younger than me. Enough younger than me that I felt that the show offered more in the way of their coming of age music than mine. Not that the show wasn’t good. But its music all surfaced for me at the end of high school. And when I think of ‘coming of age’ … at least musically … I think of the stuff that brought me from grade school into high school. I was there on August 1, 1981 ‘wanting my MTV’ when the station was first launched with the airing of The Buggles’ Video Killed the Radio Star. Truth be told, I still have that song and even another by The Buggles on my iPod. (I’d be surprised if anyone reading could even name another song by that band.)

So, a few years later, when all of those early 80s (British) bands came together in the interest of aiding world hunger to produce a single called Do They Know it’s Christmas?, I was ALL in. I remember excitedly talking about it right after it was released with a bunch of kids in my Biology class. I bought the album that week. And thanks to the fact that it remained at my parents’ house, I still own it (as it wasn’t among the many casualties of my home lost to Katrina).

I found it the other day and snapped a few pictures.

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The front cover art was interesting enough but the back cover design was what really caught my attention … because it featured a picture of all the performers who sang on the album. And there was even a crude key for determining who was who in the picture. I stared at that album so much I could have named every face on the blank outline drawing without missing even one. Yet, I probably hadn’t read a page of whatever I was supposed to be reading in my English class at the time.

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Yeah, that’s right. How many of you knew that Kool & the Gang sang on the album? Don’t worry. I’d actually forgotten, too.

There were three songs on the album:

  1. The version played every holiday season
  2. Spoken holiday greetings of the performers (dripping with English accents and Irish brogues) set to the song’s drum beat. I can only assume this cut was included as filler.
  3. A combination of #1 and #2. The extended version that I played incessantly in my room. I loved listening to the foreign pronunciations and the ‘Happy Christmas’es. (I need to get my hands on one of those transfer-your-records-to-CD contraptions so I can hear it again.)

As weird as it sounds … and I know that it will … I listened to it so many times that I still have most of the spoken parts committed to memory, like David Bowie’s closing speech.

It’s Christmas 1984. And there are more starving folk on our planet than ever before. Please give a thought for them this season and do whatever you can, however small, to help them live. Have a peaceful New Year.”

Actually, Bowie went second to last among the spoken well-wishers. Bob Geldof, front man for The Boomtown Rats and more importantly the force behind the BAND-AID project, did the honors.

And, whether they like it or not, my kids know the song very well. My daughter even does the harmony. But they had not seen the video until I played it for them on YouTube this year. My son was mostly concerned about determining the genders of many of the singers. (In his defense, he was grappling with Boy George, George Michael and so many other long-haired, made-up dudes). My daughter took one look at all the ratted hair and tattered clothing and asked if the singers themselves were the ‘poor people’ for whom the song was written. And I … well, I just couldn’t get over how much Bob Geldof looked like Jerry Seinfeld.

So anyway, take a look if you’re interested. It’s been 27 years since this song was released and, for me, it will always remind me of my sometimes awkward, sometimes exciting, and always memorable early teen years and all the wild and wonderful, gender-bending music we listened to back then.

For more information about the album’s production, click here. They give all kinds of interesting details … like how Boy George had to be dragged out of bed to participate and, once there, wanted nothing more than to bitch slap George Michael. Merry Christmas, girlfriend! 

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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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‘Tis the season to eat bacon ….. Fa la la la la … la la la la ….


The kids will be home for the holidays after tomorrow and, thanks to a little setback a few weeks ago, I’m still way behind on my Christmas preparations. So, I spent the day shopping. For everyone and everything. And have I mentioned that I don’t have the shopping gene? What an exhausting and debilitating pain in the ass. I am one weary woman.

One of my stops was at World Market, of course. I love that place. I can get anything from a handcrafted quilt made in Jaipur, India with a design dating back to the early 1500s to the much touted Mo’s Bacon Bar made by Vosges Haut Chocolat.

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Seriously, it’s $7 a bar … and eating it leaves you emotionally conflicted. The decadently rich chocolate revs you up like a hummingbird … bringing on feelings of euphoria, releasing endorphins and elevating your seratonin levels.  While the hedonistically delicious bacon sedates you like a Thanksgiving turkey, bringing on feelings of sluggishness, salt-related bloating and the need for a good nap.

Plus you’re left saddled with the knowledge that somewhere a pig died in the name of your novelty snack.


As my mother-in-law says, “Bacon is God’s way of showing us he loves us.”

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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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