Tazmanian Devil Bath Time Fun Basketball Hoop, Obese Marmosets and Pat Benetar...

I needed a hot shower, steam rising, entering through my ears and into my brain where the tired gerbils run on the rusty wheel, getting no where, except to figure out that:

I really do love me a nice hot shower!

I can close the main curtain, and "try" and close the plastic one that I have been needing to replace but keep forgetting. I bought this one in 1902 at a Ye Ole' Dollar Coin Shoppe (the preceding was a Dollar General from 1902 store name "play on words" failed joke attempt, I am sorry).

I also bought the two things I always buy at the Ye Ole' Dollar Coin Shoppe (see,, it's funnier THIS time!)....corn cobs for wiping with and SPAM, Ye Ole' Dollar Coin Shoppe has THE BEST SPAM!! (jealous much?).

You know,, the flimsy shower liners that stick to your skin the whole time you are taking a shower making you feel ucky, I haz dem!! The ones you weigh down with a shampoo bottle on one side and a economy sized soap bottle on the other and then, one of these containers always slips down and stubs your divaliscious toe, and you curse and curse at the way your whole life turned out, all because you didn't spend the extra .50 to buy a "premium weighted shower liner" because you're an ass thrifty...... Well,, maybe YOU don't (spoiled,, hmmmpf).

After solving these problems of the shower curtain liner grafting on to my body, the next issue would be the children,, and keeping them duct taped out of the room for 10 minutes so I can sing be Pat Benetar in a sold out concert full of adoring chiseled torso'd Penguins and obese Marmosets (what??? It seems they're my target market sub-set) .

But then, thinking about it, maybe the skin graft effect of the shower curtain plays a role here because of it's skin-tight "pleather" pantsuit likeness's -- not that I've ever worn a shower curtain simulated "pleather" skin-tight pantsuit before.. (Seductress takes a moment to ponder this for her next concert wardrobe opportunity, but realizes that she had already sold out the shower arena for an Opera concert and will have to wait a day to realize the "pleather" pant-suit dream and then she creatively sighs).

So I await until the kids are in slumber and slink off into the shower. I lay out pj's and sparkle lotion. I light a candle for ambiance, setting the tone for my raptured relaxation experience (cough), I turn the water on and the handle comes off in my hands. I replace the handle only to find the "cappy thing" is now broken, I try 10 times to fix the "cappy thingie" before giving up and thanking the fine educational services of my country in enabling me to still realize which way to turn the handle even without the blue "C" or the red "H" (I Y plumbing conformity rules!).

The shower is turned on. The shower being turned on must also have a circuit breaker switch reaction to my child's ass,, as now I assess this said child's ass is now assisting me in assuming an aspiring role in assimilating the aroma ambiance of the room to his assal extractions.

Asinine of me to expect otherwise.

After the air clears by means of rumbling fan and helicoptering towels, I step into the lap of luxury.

Satan called, he wants his Bath Time Fun Toy back!!

I lean back into the whirling rains of a tropical waterfall, wetting my hair and enrobing my soul in peace and warmth. My arm catches the strings of the afore mentioned Tazmanian Devil Bath Time Fun Basketball Hoop. The hoop falls, knocking down the afore mentioned economy sized soap bottle which propels itself off the slope of the tub directing it's bubbly rage to my afore mentioned divaliscious toes. I avert this by side step jumping all "stealthy" like.

The afore mentioned Tazmanian Devil Bath Time Fun Basketball Hoop, whose industrial strength suction cup backing had stopped in perfect position for the next sequence of happenings, has now been raped with my foot. The hoop and netting are now up at my ankle and that diminutive suction cup backing must be giving hickeys to the tub because instead of releasing the hoop backboard, it stays on tight enough to make me lose my footing and fall over the side of the tub, reaching and flailing for the only safety available, the flimsy 1902 shower curtain liner from "Ye Ole Dollar Coin Shoppe" (you're LOLing at this joke now aren't ya??!!).

Which makes me think two a few things:

Why did I let someone talk me out of removing the 152 safety rails that were in my bathroom/shower due to the previous elderly owner,, knowing how stupid and accident prone I am??

and:

Maybe this wouldn't hurt so bad had I not been thrifty an ass and had paid .50 more for the "premium weighted shower liner"!!

and also:

I may still buy the cheap liner for the "pleathery" skin-tight pantsuit likeness's now because the follow-up concert is Lady Ga Ga and this just sounds like the perfect concert attire.

but mostly:

The Tazmanian Devil Bath Time Fun Basketball Hoop hasn't offered me ANY Bath Time Fun tonight.

What is the moral of this story you ask sweetly expecting it to have one....

(please insert your perceived "moral to the story" here)

I'm going to bed.

Girls can to be Tarzan!!! Er,, maybe not....

My brother is 21 months older than me. What does this mean? This means he was always waaaay cooler than me. Growing up we had a lot of fun catching animals and beating on each other. Oh the good times. He broke my arm, I hit him with a stilt.

"Oh that sounds terrible!!" you say. Well let me explain....

I was the proverbial pain in the ass sister. I was always there disturbing his natural instinct to get away from me. When I was about 6 my brother was playing Tarzan. Tarzan is cool even to a girl. He was jumping off our front porch while making the famous:

"AAHhh-eeee-Aahhhh-eeeee-Aahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

... scream of forests lore and beating his chest showing dominance over animal and human species alike. I didn't know it then, but there was some rule that girls could not be Tarzan. As I tried, the "REAL" Tarzan's dominance over his younger sibling verbally came out. This pissed off the extremely clumsy pseudo Tarzan girl and she would show HIM who COULD or COULD NOT be Tarzan!!

My jump would be faster, farther and higher. My chest would be beaten with so much force the ground would shake and the ants would gather together and carry me anywhere I needed to go for a year. MY "AAhh-eeeee- Aahhhheeeeeee-Aaaahhhhhhhhh" would be so loud, the monkeys, in where ever the hell they live, would start knitting a dresser full of animal print sarongs for me. The lions would forge my crown, all patiently awaiting my return to the jungle. I am not sure how it happened but somewhere between the porch stoop railing, air and ground, I got jilted on my Grand Tarzan flight. My Tarzan battle cry suffered, coming out as a screechy:

"AAAAHHHH-EEEEE-OOoohhhhhhh..crap....thump"
(sobbing)

My arm bone was the casualty of the lesson that girls made sub-par Tarzans.

At the hospital in MY moment of attention, my brother sat BETWEEN a group of connected hospital chairs. This worked until he had to get out and his ass was stuck and needed to be "surgically" removed. I sat in a chair laughing at him, but a little miffed that all the cute EMT's were fussing over HIM when a piece of my frame core had been broken and certainly one handsome hero would have fell in love with me to live happily ever after.blah.blah.blah

Hmmmmpf. Way to soil my fairy tale ending, JJ!!

I guess looking back it was me that broke my arm then wasn't it? But I did hit him with a stilt because he could run around the yard on MY BIRTHDAY PRESENT STILTS on the first try and I could not walk on them at all barely stand on them after weeks of trying and injury.

BUT, there was the great baton accident of 1978. (you don't wanna hear about that).

I guess we trump out on childhood accidents after all. Good to know.

We had the normal moments of stupidity flashes of brilliance.

Like naming a puppet "Nobody" so that he could do bad things and we could say: "Nobody did it!!"

Or the way he "let" me find out that if I go down the alphabet, not a lot of words "rhyme" with "duck" but, one word in particular makes parents run with soap towards you.

And, if he wanted my candy all he had to do is play "Shetley" the dog with me and I would happily put it in a bowl for him.

Coincidentally, if I shortened the name "Shetley" in anger of the dog's bad behavior, it too sounds like a word that makes parents run with soap towards you. I wonder if that was also lovingly brother orchestrated.

But there were a many times.... Eeeeeeeep!!!

Like the day we found out that even if you put silly putty on a hot bare light bulb for hours, it will not glow any brighter. It will however, change its molecular structure and make a little girl scream:

"It's BUUUURRRRNNNNING,, it's BUUUUURRRRRNNNNNING!!!!" whilst running down the hall with unintentional "jazz hands".

And also, putting saltine crackers, sandwiched with sliced cheese, in a toaster, really does not come out as a great "after school" snack. It does however, make a very tedious "after school" lecture in safety and intelligence and strict punishment consequences while simultaneously stinking up the house.

We were bestest pals for the most part, except for when his friends were around, or at the mall, or out to eat, or generally any public appearance (laughing).

I always knew he would do what he wanted to do in life, which was be around animals, specifically amphibians and reptiles. One time as he was working at an animal park in front of a "snake hut", holding a huge snake. Kids were touching the snake and asking questions, he was sweetly filling them in on all the info about the species.

A little boy came up and was caught in awe of the creature in front of him. His parents scooted him up and he reluctantly complied, getting very close to the snake.

"You can touch him!" they said, further accentuating the child's wildlife experience.

The boy looked nervous but held his little hand out slowly in the direction of the snake. His hand then bypassed the snake entirely and touched my brother's arm instead before jumping back to the safety of his parents.

Everyone is in awe of my brother. I love you JJ!!!

Oooooooooh, your a GiiiiiRL Dragon!!!!

Of COURSE you ARE!!!

Even GIRL dragons need love!!!

Shrek Check me out!!!!

My first guest post is here: http://livingwithlaughter.com

Now if I only knew how to "link" ya there,, but there is free candy when you get there...so GO!!!

I try to be all "hard core Yo" about dating, but I'm not, I'm more kitten breath and sweet little bluebird eggs.. I say I don't NEED someone right now, is this BS?

Bulldog Schnitzel? Buttcrack Schnapps? Broccoli Saute???

Last night I had a dream. It was one of those dreams that made you think. I hate those, don't I think enough during the dang day already? Do we really have to have a chin scratching, epiphany-chick hatching, screamy thought birthing, slinky down the stairs of my brain- dream every night?

I like when bunnies hop in a meadow for no reason and sing about my perfectly painted pinkie-toe (just one of them), I love watching confetti fall on my head for winning the National Mini-Marshmallow Extreme Distance Spitting Championships! I don't know any "NMMEDSC" Gold medalists-- BUT ME (and I'm fine with that). I certainly don't mind when David Beckham stops over for a "this means nothing" sex romp (I mean his wife's face IS Botoxorama and I'm youthful, innocent and all virginy).

But NO Seductress!!!! Let's dive into you phsyche a bit (just to make you try to correctly SPELL "Psyche") because you NEEEED the pressure right now!!

Hmmmmmmpf....... Damn dream Nazi's!!

Give me back my Dang bunnehs!!!

Wink, Wink

Last night I was the Bachelorette. I was much cuter and my giggle was so much more intoxicating than the current one that let yummy country talkin' Ty go (like a Moron), not that I watch or anything.

Why dontchya calls me sumtime

I had two men with me both were very imperfect which was PERFECT for me. I was attracted to them in different ways, physically and mentally and they both did the essentials (assuming I knew them more than a week)..... Understanding, calm (when I wanted to feel boring), wild (when I need it all K-R-A-Z-Y up in 'da hizzy), sweet natured (rough edges), expert farters (farts are aways funny people), hard workers, strict on me (ha) but only when I needed it, full on mascara hoarders, giving, but not scared to take, hungry for me always ( I taste like pancakes), ear whisperers, star gazers, dreamers with a foot in reality...blah.blah.blah....

They courted in different ways as well, one was extravagant and the other more romantic and planning.

The first was a little artsy and off the cuff which drives me to sexual positions passion. He would do things like paint murals with me all night and then lay with me on the freshly kaleidoscoped paint tarp to look up at the stars and count fireflies (I know RIGHT!!!??? SWOOOOON). He was the one that was fighting for me more it seems, genuinely trying to let me know how much he knew that we "belong". One night (I think it was the finale) he brought me 2 presents. In one box was a beautiful gold bracelet (I'm a silver gal, nudge wink cough). I could tell he had spent a lot of money on it, I did LIKE it but it wasn't a "AGGGHHHHHHHA THIS IS THE BEST DAMN PRESENT,,,, TAKE ME!!!" like. The next was a bigger, rattlier box. It was filled to the rim with costume jewelery rings. Now that for me is a "AGGGHHHHHHHA THIS IS THE BEST DAMN PRESENT,,,, TAKE ME,,,, NOW!!!", it's about the fun little things for me, I was smitten in my dream, he promised me the world in the things most people miss.

The other guy was more translucent. He was handsome and chiseled, but had REALLY fat hands and fingers for some reason, it was bizarro, those little fat nubs couldn't do anything, he was clumsier than me (laughing)!! But he was sweet. He planned candlelight picnics with hot dogs on plates from Tiffany's at ballgames. He just knew I was going to pick him. He stressed about things being perfect, passionate about the details.

In real life I would have ran screaming:

"Ya gotta let go sometimes and laugh when you fall in the pool fully dressed!"

But in the dream it was comforting that someone cared that much.

It's all about perception.

There was no sex in this dream (damn sex dream Nazi's) but I kissed cheeks all night and nuzzled and hugged and I think I needed that even more.

Here's the deal. SPOILER ALERT!!!

I did not choose either of them. I did EXACTLY what I am doing in my real life. Feeling I am not good enough, I am not ready, I have too much going on, I am too sick, I am not pretty enough right now, I don't have enough financial stability to bring someone in, my kids are too young, no one will want to deal with my antics, no one will see my heart, no one will see my drive when I am this low, I am not shining, THEY ALL DESERVE BETTER.

But what do I deserve? Do I have to be on top of the world to be loved? I miss that feeling I got last night, little things are big, little things matter, but if I don't feel I have bigger ones to offer, why try? I don't want to bring someone in like this and worse I don't think I can be rejected now (and I certainly would sabotage it with THIS mindset)...

Being abused puts a lot of thoughts in your head, thoughts I am still trying to erase about my self worth, I think we all have them though, I am really not unique in that respect.

So I think maybe for now if nothing is not organically-romantic (is there a organic-romantic farm somawhere?), I will have to just bide my time basking in my own growing fabulosity and changing this mindset.

The dream actually ended with me jumping out of a purple plane with no parachute and landing in a huge mound of Fall leaves, I popped a leave infested head up and was a child again, laughing and snorting with freckle-faced friends.

It will all end well.



Girls drool.... We have exactly NO idea what we REALLY want...

(insert superhero music here)

I woke up in the middle of the night with a raging headache. Death seemed to be the only option at this point but I shrugged it off, guffawed at the laughable pain tolerance levels of the commoners and took my superhuman status to heart.

I stood on my bed with my hand over my heart, my red yellow zig-zagged "Invisible Seductress" cape blowing from the breeze of the ceiling fan whirling above my head, one leg bent as if it were rested on a recently climbed mountain top and in the "side profile superhero stance" of comic book legend, I made my speech against the evil that was trying to conquer me and put the universe in imminent danger of losing The Invisible Seductress to laugh at save the world from evil and bad comedy routines, OH,, and also from Green Olive over crowding at the super market (it's really what's best for the pickles)!!

The speech sounded like this:

"Good Lord PLEEEEAASE make this pounding go AWAY-AY-AY-AY!!!"
(only in a much sexier and deeper super-heroesque way)

And then I tried to hit my knees to sob, but my cape got tangled on the high heels of my super-sexy superhero black boots, dropping me like it's hot, to the floor, where I then proceeded with the sobbing.

The search for my headache remedy spanned the entire square footage of my sprawling lair. With my speed, night and X-ray vision, I was to make short work of the task and realize that I had no worldly relief capsules at hand.

"GADZOOKS!! Sparkleboy!! What ever will we do now?"
(Sparkleboy was sleeping, so this was really just for effect)

But alas, my amazing memory bank threw up a 3D vision of a bottle of Ibuprofin I had possibly overlooked in my purse!!!!

"ZAM-SWISH-ZAHOOOOOOOEY!!!!"
(I flew to my purse then)

The super-heroesque music and voice had started to irritate me at this point so I flipped the record player that was blaring: "Music to save the World by"/ The Monster Super-hero weakness ballads edition.

And dialed down my voice back to normal for the rest of the search and recovery as well as for for the entirety of this post (unless you just feel like talking awesome).

My purse yielded the prize of the aspirin bottle, but it felt empty, as I opened it I was relieved to find 4 red pills of Ibuprofin headache happiness. I choked them down as fast as I could and laid my head down to dream of bunnies and joy.

Strangely, I woke up with a worse headache and another daunting symptom.

You may have mistaken this morning sunrise for what actually happened. Let me explain.

Women normally have a bottle of pills in their purse that carry a selection of pills for every need (we're cool like that).

Tummy, PMS, Headache, Migraine, The stopping you from killing someone pill (I heard some folks had them) and possibly....

(TMI WARNING):

AZO Standard.... (Urinary tract infection meds that I put in when I was pregnant with Traxx and out of town ,,, just in case) that look JUST like generic Ibuprofin..

And as women know,, they drastically discolor your urine...

My pee is now a color I can't even describe "as a color" because it is more of a radioactive glow than a color. It even makes that "buzzing" sound of "electrically charged" radioactive glow.

Aliens have called me to inquire about the "phenomenon" and I talked them out of dissecting me. They have however taken a brain scraping because they feel my intelligence is even more superior than that of their cat leader: Shuravfsk Sssskkkp and my mad mascara skillz are worth cloning into their next generation.

Beams are shooting out of the toilet and gracing the eastern sky with a pseudo sunrise with each visit I make.

So this morning as you looked out into the morning sky and admired the beauty of our hot star of life, know it was actually courtesy of this "hot star" of the blogosphere (laughing).

GOOD MORNING WORLD!!!

It's all about patience son... and direction....

Normally I wake up entirely too early. It is usually not my decision to grace the world with my presence so soon, it is my son's. There is normally an issue with a food item not opening (or even worse spilling) or a Traxx "turtling" poop emergency. These are really great ways to wake up I suppose.

At this point I will do the following:

Behead the turtle, feed the spawn.

And think:

OK. What do I absolutely need to do BEFORE I can take a nap?

Followed by:

OK. What can I cut out of the list of things I absolutely need to do BEFORE I take a nap?

Shortly thereafter there is:

OK. The only thing in my list that I absolutely have to do BEFORE taking a nap is:

TAKING A NAP!

(You all are welcome to use this strategy)

I really enjoy watching people do stupid things. I am an expert at this and should be the first "America's Funniest Home Videos" reality show "spin off" cast member.

The "stupidest/clumsiest" contestant wins free medical services for life and a full body set of safety pads.

As much as I fess up to being an idiot, as a parent you really don't want your children to do things that question their intelligence level. As if you being an idiot on your own is OK as long as your kids are not idiots.

You get an "I'm and idiot TRUMP pass" if your kids are intelligent.

You could do something like: Lick a metal pole in Minnesota in January and then say:

(please read the following line with your tongue protruding for maximum interactive blog enjoyment, thank you)

"My ton id in Hahvad tudiyin olecula enetics!!"

or

My otter eaks ree iffernt anguages!!! nd elts eed eeedy eole!!

The entire fire station and news room staff would immediately stop what they are doing and praise you as a parent because you obviously can't be THAT stupid.

I usually pick out my sons attire, if not, Hulk would accompany Spidey which would accentuate Superman, which would be topped off with froggy rain boots. And I am already wearing THAT outfit today,, sooooo.

He did well, picked out long pants and a button down with Nemo undies. But he forgot to change his underwear and had already put on the long pants (I think clean undies are essential to letting him sit on furniture or my lap, so I let him know of the egregious mistake).

He was upset, apparently even for him, 5 Am is a ridiculous time for such activities. I was pretty quiet, but firm. He sat on the floor and for the next 20 minutes I watched my son try to take his underwear off WITHOUT taking his jeans off. I explained calmly that he would HAVE to take them off eventually, so why not just do it now, but he was certain he could accomplish this feat without taking the "extra" effort of dropping trou.

One inch at a time, in full body whine mode, he made slow progress before finally snapping the underoos out towards my face with an "I told ya so, smirk".

I knew that putting ON the NEW pair of underwear while wearing pants is impossible, but I remained quiet as he tried, and tried, AND TRIED.... and calculated this problem, because he KNEW this WAS indeed an attainable goal for the day.

"Take you pants off" I calmly suggest again.

"I got dis" He counters.

"OK" I say remissfully and continue smoking crack, swigging beer, popping pills and watching Barbie doll porn (it's all over the blogosphere now too).

Now THIS is entertainment.

Finally beaten, he took his pants off with a labored huff and said:

"I guess I have to take dem off first"

"Yes, son, you do."

"You shoulda dust yelled at me to do it mom, I'm gonna go lied down for a bit!!"

It's always the parents fault!!

"Mom can we have ICE CREAM????" She rambled on, while drooling a bucket on the floor and eliciting the attention of the other restless natives.

"Well I guess you can get a scoop or so, on a cone."

"COOOOOOOL" can we have a small amount of chocolate syrup?" she asked, stretching the inch into the proverbial mile".

"OK, a SMALL amount" I said, giving in to the summer temptation of a rare moment of filled mouths and silent reflection.

Let's recap the directives given to the eldest of the Seductress clan shall we?

One small scoop (or so) on a cone, with a small amount of chocolate syrup.

The result:

Beef Pit Ham is all for the Toe Jam (The Chihuahua Diaries)

Today I would like to take the time to break down some responses I have had on dating sites. My wonderful friend Robyn from: Life by Chocolate (just pretend I am intelligent enough to provide you with a link to her most wonderful site {{here}}), did this a few weeks ago and I maliciously stole her idea (of course I am hoping that with chocolate she will forgive my horrendous act).

I have not been online on these sites too much, but from time to time I pop in to see what's hanging. Literally folks, some want to SHOW you what is hanging.

I believe that somewhere there is a being awaiting me with actual intelligence, loyal and moral attributes, great teeth and an excitement to be by my side. But I already have a dog so I should probably stop going to the pound (laughing, you know you saw that coming).

A lot of guys all talk to me about world traveling, this is great as I love a well traveled man. But I am finding something odd as well. A large percent only speak about specific areas, such as visiting that grand mountain range in Asia. I love the mountains, but when the talk is ONLY about how fast we can get to the Himalayan "me" parts, I tend to get upset, I want to see other parts of the world first.

Now please know that I don't think I am the ultimate prize, or anything close to that. And I don't want to hurt anyones feelings in this post, I am simply showing a portion of the strange and the vulgar for your full interactive dating world experience. I feel that if you are really sincere, it would come through, even on a cheesy dating site, and I would never make fun or discount that.

But these I can totally make fun of and/or discount.

Here are some actual messages. Punctuation, spelling and layout left EXACTLY as posted for your reading pleasure.

From a poster which sounded sooo promising with his profile name of "ih8u":

hi sexi i wanna...

Cure World hunger? Free the oppressed? Save an animal at the shelter? Please do tell!!


I received this one on July 4Th:

Wanna see my cock?

I love when guys are such patriotic AND proud farm animal owners!


This one was cool:

i am a lonaly man. i always like company with older womans i feel more comfortedable then. i always get turned down.


Maybe because you are 10 but have the grammar skills of an 8 year old!!! Your mom should have comfortedable you more!!


This guy's profile name was "Pinkeye" and "Pinkeye" was NOT looking for anything "serious":

I have messengered you 12 times, I'm going to quit now.

Dammit, I JUST missed you!!


"Juggalo" says on May 15Th :

Ello, I hail from Gambuto, I don't write very many women on her back so I hope you will respond as you are lovely in every way.

Ello


"Juggalo" says on May 26Th:

Ello, I hail from Gambuto, I don't write very many women on her back so I hope you will respond as you are lovely in every way.

Ello again


"Juggalo" says on July 10Th:

Ello

Go away, I LIKE when men write on my back.


This is from Morocco!!!! How romantic!!!:

i am said from Morrocco im seriou and i search relationship i like you and i hope you will my love and my wife if you accep write me in: (gives email address/Yahoo IM name/second email address and what I am assuming is a phone number that kinda looks like this:2543re554220773#) i wait your respond now.

(cough) Said, please stop waiting NOW, wait LATER, procrastination is your friend accep it.


From "cooljoe":

Wanna see my cock?

Blunt protruding objects frighten me. It may poke my eye out.

Or sputter.


Awwww SA-weeeeet:

u are WOW

WOW u are....... right!!


An obvious Masterdater named "Player-something" screamed the following prose:

WHO WOULD NOT ACKNOWEDGE SUCH A SWEET TENDER YOU? I BELIEVE THAT EVERY MOMENT THAT WOULD BE HELD UNDER THE SENSATIONS OF THE EVENING ATMOSPHERE SHOULD BE WITHIN THE VERY COMFORTS OF YOUR MAGICAL ABILITIES.

Uuuuuuuuurp, magical abilities,,, I has dem!!


From "al & dawn":

you are verry sexy hot.....

Quick!!!! Is this Al or Dawn?? It matters....


A guy named after a cat writes:

iam looking forwardto madeyour body felling good allnight long love.

The "space" bar is located in the lower middle portion of your keyboard, it's also the BIGGEST key there. BTW, my body always fells good reeeeal goood (I am quite the clutz).


The "Player-something" came back to say:

Check out this web site!! Swagfunk.com

I did, and this is what the front page offered:

Welcome All Party People, Funkateers, Hip Hop Headz and Funk Swaggers!

Funk Followers are we all standing on the verge? And you know what I mean, its not so wide you cant get around it and so low you cant get under it. we all came to boogie and got to stay in step. Like Beef Pit Ham is all for the Toe Jam and a coffee cream delight cause the funk grooves your body just right. (notice the post title inspiration here, even I could not have come up with a post title that bizarre!!)

SWAGFUNK is straight up "slap the taste out ya face" funk that cracks the jaw until you hit the floor (Mel Gibson LOVES this place! I'm so sorry, it begged for it, I sold out)

The smooth groove that makes your body move and hits the rhythm flow where you need to go. Not selling a thing but telling a thing to be heard.


I JUST LOVE BEING A FUNKATEER FUNK SWAGGER!!!
(jealous much?)

Idiom Contest.. and monkey poop..

Was the last contest an epic fail??

Not YET...

BUT...

This is it. Officially the last time I will beg you to play with me. A last desperate ploy to have friends without bribing them. Wait, I AM bribing you. This makes me sad, but also happy, because if it works maybe you will stick around for the after shows, which are ALWAYS fantabulously arranged and choreographically stunning, because I inhale the tangerine smelly markers before I perform, or maybe grape, it depends on which fruit item I have been lacking for the week, for me, it's all about being nutritionally sound when I kill brain cells.

Maybe it would be easier to make you love me if you were a puppy.

I could make a pork chop necklace and you would all look at me as if I was your queen and follow every move I make until I stop and you attack me with your love and bite my neck open for the juicy, but now a little tough pork chop.

BUT,,, you are not puppies. You are however, ALL very cute "like puppies" and still have that wonderful puppy breath that they should bottle up in a series of "aromatic memory enhancers" in a line from "Renuzit" called "Reduzit", the "Been there-smelled that" scent collection.

Wow, That's a pretty good slogan, they should hire me!!

There would be other aroma sprays such as, but not limited to:

Baby head
Best friends stinky car
Gym class
County fair
Rock concert pot aroma
Glue
Tangerine smelly marker (or grape)
Meatloaf cafeteria day
Hot Jock locker
Favorite childhood pet Basset Hound fart

You know you want it now!!!

But, I digress.. Back to the task at hand..

Here is the deal, it's all about "idiom phrases" today, remember?

Id-i-om n
A fixed, distinctive, and often colorful expression whose meaning cannot be understood from the combined meanings of its individual words, for example, “to have someone in stitches”

Whatever!

That definition was stupider than a one armed man, in a tree, waving!


I am leaving a very short paragraph and you fill it in with your idioms. There will be voting and mass hysteria. Justin Beiber will be a guest judge. I will read them to Justin and take the time to explain that this is a "safe" place and no hair flipping or pelvic thrusting is expected or necessary.

Bill Clinton is also scheduled to judge, but I will NOT have sexual relations with THAT man!

Bubbles the monkey is set to arrive and throw his famous poop on anyone NOT participating, I was going to invite "Boots" from Dora the Explorer, but cartoon shat really doesn't have the same effect and at least "Bubbles" poop might get ya a few dollars on E-bay.

I tried ta told ya this would happen!!

Here goes!!!

My followers love to play with me! They're funner than a (#1. insert idiom here)! Everyday I wake up and look forward to their intelligent banter with me, I love it when they say that I am (#2. insert idiom here)! One day I would like to pick them all up and take them on a road trip longer than (#3. insert idiom here). We would eat roadkill from Route 66 and laugh and laugh. The roadkill will smell worse than (#4. insert idiom here), but all in all we will have a most wonderful time (except when that one follower has to pee every 10 seconds!! I swear their bladder is as small as a (#5. insert idiom here).). I love my followers! That's why I will buy them all Ice Cream in any flavor they want (except banana), and hold them tight while I sing the theme song to "Beaches" softly in their ears. I think they are greater than (#6. insert self serving idiom here). And I know a good (restate noun from #6) when I see it!!!

The end!!

We will judge on overall idiom excellence and delivery. You have a few weeks to play.

I love you all more than an ant would love to have a miniature wheel barrel!!

P.S. No use ducking from Bubbles, he is a very accomplished shat aimer!!

The first eva.. "So,, ya gotta love it, Sunday Seductress Shorts"

My son was irritating me. I understand and respect this because it is his job and my children have always been very career minded. All day he was a monkey. It would take about 5.2 minutes for the "OOOOO-OOO-EEEE-EEEEE -AAAAH-AAAAAh's" to become extremely annoying to a sane person, luckily I am insane, so he had about 7.6 minutes. But even being insane this noise became increasingly piercing because I am a Princess. You know the story of the "Princess and the Pea"? Take that theory and replace it with sound waves, uh yes..you picking up what I'm puttin' down??

I was very annoyed and tried to tell him that he was making the elephants in our jungle VERY sad because they have such big ears. You may not be aware of this but when the elephants are sad they eat a lot of cookies!! I told him that we only have a few cookies left, so we had better be extremely cautious NOT to annoy the elephants into eating them. He remained a monkey and an elephant ate the cookies. Today, I turned from a Princess to an elephant, hopefully I will turn back into a Princess again soon.

I went into the bathroom and closed the door to be relieve myself from the monkey, and also my bladder. The monkey barged in with all his crazy monkey-ish antics. In an act of desperation and the increasing quest for a moment of silence, I told the monkey to stand outside the door and made a bold move. I slammed the door (lightly of course) in the monkey's face demanding just a moment to myself without the monkey. I heard my son say:

"Heyyyy!!! You hurt monkey's feelwins, now he's sad tooooo!"

"But are you sad, Traxx?"

"No, I'm fine.... I'll talk to da monkey doe, monkey's need choc-O-late puddin' when dey're sad, he'll be fine, I'll take care of dis."

GREAT!!!

Dramagirl and I had a very unique conversation about dieting in the car.

It went something like this:

"Mom, what's that thing you have that makes you stay skinny even though you eat all wrong and junk?"

"Metabolism??"

"Yes, METABOLISM!! I think you should have a strong one to keep you skinny until you are old and it doesn't matter anymore, don't you?"

"Well, that would be nice, but how old?"

"I'm thinking 30" she said as she bebopped to Rhianna.

(seriously, the world should have heard my gasp here, like a shock wave, did you feel that on Friday?? Yea,, that was me!!)

"So 30 is OLD!! And now that I am a little over 30 it doesn't matter if I'm fat?" I ask hoping she would redeem herself.

"Well, there's really nothing else to do AFTER 30 is there???"

My diva eyes glared deep into her doe eyes for a moment calculating my next response.

"I HOPE TO HOLY HALIBUT THERE IS!!" I distraughtly squeaked.

"CRIMINEY JICKETS Drama, that's just awful!!"

"I said it's alright to get a little FAT mom, it's not like DEATH, it's OK to be fat, if you're HAPPY!"

I cocked my head a little, like a puppy hearing a squeal, sweet response I thought, and with a possible note of redemption.

"I'll extend the new "fat rule" till 40, OK mom? That gives you more time to do things, how old are you again? I always forget."

The inside of my car turned into a slow-motion clay movie as I responded. Every syllable taking a year or more to spit out, every motion delayed to be captured in the heat of the moment.

(please read this in that slow motion deep voice for maximum shock factor!)

"I-W-I-L-L- B-E- 40- I-N- NO-VE-MB-ER-ER-ER-ER-ER!!!-!!!-!!!"

(yes, there was even reverb)

Dramagirl looks out the window before sympathetically replying:

"I can't extend this anymore mom!"

It took her a while but she finally made it home, walking a few miles is good exercise.

If she wants a strong metabolism until she is 30, this was an excellent way to start.

Please enjoy a "Seductress Approved" video...The EPIC RAP BATTLE:

The Secrets of the Pinafore--Contest Even Newer and Improved(er)!!

I have gotten a two fabo additions to this story!! I guess it would be hard to pick up a story where someone else left off, trying to mirror the vision, but I still know I will get some awesome stuff, so I will leave the contest in tact, I'll even extendz it fer ya (thru Aug 15Th).

But Monday I will add another option that won't take too much of your time and hopefully will be much, much funner. And there will be TWO prizes. Still the same two (cat and Mermaid, but TRY to act sooper, sooper excited!!) The bigger Mermaid picture for the Pinafore story and the smaller but awesome HD cat in eye popping 3D. (which Georgina and Blase have already laid claim to) for the next phase of the Seductress writing contest extravaganza!!!

I'll give you a clue on the next part....it's all about idioms..

So start making some up like:

.... a pathological liar with a medical journal, calling in for a sick day.

I didn't have an ending in mind when I wrote the first part of this story for you. I tried to leave it open for anything to happen. This is what I came up with last night.

So now,without further Adooooo,, please enjoy:

The Secrets of the Pinafore

(skip down to the new part if'n ya wanna)

She was a small framed, but feisty addition to a world that laughed at her imagination and called her weird, but sometimes they called Emma quirky, she liked being called quirky.

Always finding ways to make her long brown hair fly in the wind, even when it stopped blowing one day, was certainly a wondrous task. No one believed she could see colors that never would exist in a crayon box or that she heard musical notes everyone else would refuse dancing along with, no one, but her grandma Rose.

Her grandma showered her with compassion and allowed her imagination to bloom and flourish off each precious page of life, as hers had always done, weaving tale after tale into the memory of her greatest doe eyed fan.

When her hero had grown ill and was put in a nursing home, Emma stopped skipping through each day. She visited often, sitting only a breath away, to hear every last drop of her grandma Rose's tea party fantasies and the daring battle adventures that even stinky boys weren't strong or brave enough to take on.

On her last day on this earth, her grandma gave her a clumsily wrapped present and shared her best kept secret. In the sweet words of her final sentence, and the passing of her last labored breaths, a magical gift had been passed down to another generation.

"Life has pockets of reality that help you along the way, making dreams come true. But for the special ones like us Emma, the secrets of fantasy can take on a life of their own. Some of these secrets are never shared, but you'll find all of mine, that I now pass to you, in the tree by the stream, on the blue side of the sky."

While wearing the little gift she was given, a blue pinafore with pockets galore, Emma dashed down to the stream, trying to hold back tears, and find the tree her grandma had told her about. Many dark, heavily branched giants towered over the banks of the stream. From every angle she tried, there was just one, on the East side, that she could see the shimmering water running past through the branches, surrounding the tree with the palest of sky blues.

"This must be it" she whispered, "the blue side of the sky".

She wondered how she would get "in" the tree. As she walked over and inspected the tree's huge roots, bursting of history and growth, she noticed an opening, covered with ivy, begging to be entered. After shimmying in, she looked up to a stunning view of seemingly never ending spiral stairs, enrobed in sparkle and indescribable color hues. It was bright, airy and magical in every way, beckoning for a loss of reality and the explosive fantasies of an inventive child.

This tree could transport a willing spirit anywhere it would allow itself to be taken. There were many places in her mind, Emma had only vaguely dreamt of, and now, she would experience them in Technicolor. Smells, sounds and tastes, all swirling around, ready to be stolen for a memory.

Odd little friends were hidden around each turn, for once, her quirkiness would be celebrated. The images and life lessons from the tree, would become fairy tales and legend, for future little dreamers. Many would be passed on again, to a lucky few, to be experienced as their own childhood realities.

And there was more, the pockets of the blue pinafore carried yet another of her grandmothers secrets. Anything she could ever need, long for, or just dream up in her already fantastical world, could be found in the magical pouches of her frock. Just place your hand in and close your eyes to wish, seconds later the item would materialize as a brightly colored, perfectly developed gift for each task at hand or outlandish whim.

Emma looked up and noticed some bustling in the tree, amazingly there were quarters and residences on each level, but for what? For whom?

She decided to close her eyes and reach in a pocket to pull out a microphone. It came out pink and sparkly with a seemingly never ending jeweled cord, no need to wish for speakers apparently, because as she spoke into it, the tree shook a bit and the inhabitants all gasped.

“Uh, I’m kinda new here, and I don’t know any of you, I would like to meet you, if that’s OK".

"Grandma Rose sent me.”

The voices above rang out muddled and all strung together; she could only recognize a few sentences.

...Who is she?.. What is she?.. She’s ugly; I’ll say that, just hideously disfigured!!

Collective gasps grew from up above.

..."We don’t talk like that!" a strongly voiced reminder rang out.

... "Well, we should, I say!! Hmmpf!!..." griped the offending party.

Emma heard quick foot steps and a door slamming, the rest of the voices continued.

...We love Rose, what did you do with her?.. Did you step on her heart?.. We don’t like heart steppers here!!...

Whispers flew around in the air causing a slight breeze in the tree.

“She passed” Emma said solemnly.

...What is this "PASSING"??!!.. Was it a race?.. She was in a race and YOU won? You’re gangly you know, how ever did YOU win?.. Maybe she stepped on her heart FIRST!!.. Or her cape, are you a cape stepper? We don't like cape steppers here!!!...

“No, I mean she PASSED AWAY, listen, I can’t answer all of these questions at once, it’s too much, I’m gonna leave for now.”

Another voice rang down, a calmed one, Emma saw two purple striped legs dangling from one of the lofts and turned to listen.

"Rose is gone everyone. Humans fade after they share all of the brightest light in their hearts, that’s why some live longer than others, like our Rose.”

...Oh we loved Rose!.. We did.. We did.. She was special, reallllly special... And thicker than THIS one, I say,, just thicker...

The striped legs stuck straight out and darted off the edge, down to Emma, startling her.

The creature was all hair and wobble bits, but Emma recognized her somehow, she was from grandma’s childhood drawings, it was a beloved friend named Jazz.

“I know you!!! You’re Jazz aren’t you???” Emma queried hopefully.

“I AM, and YOU smell like cotton candy, pink cotton candy, have you been eating cotton candy?"

"Hmmmm, have you?? It smells piii-ink!!”

All the spectators rambled in once more.

...We LOVE cotton candy!!! Love, love, love cotton candy, it melts, right there in your head, it melts!!...

The lofted residents all now celebrated their sugary sweet memories.

“No, I haven’t” Emma giggled out loud at the thought, “But I CAN get us some!!”

"Emma has the Pinafore, Oh goody!! Emma has the Pinafore!!"

Jazz was busy dancing when she next proclaimed, "Cotton candy for EV-ER-Y-ONE!!!!!!"

Emma spotted many monstery things, waddling out to the edges, hundreds of unique faces, all shapes and sizes, every one now raining down millions of drops of drool on her head.

“Yes, we all look different here" Jazz mentioned catching on to Emma's puzzled demeanor.

"No two the same, ‘cept you, you look like Mute.. MUTE!!! COME OUT HERE!!” Jazz screamed.

Mute appeared from a shadow, looking NOTHING like Emma, except, he had one brown ponytail.

"HI!!!!! I’M MUTE!!!"

...Shhhhhhhhhhh...

The tree rattled with the strength of his voice and an agitated "shushing" from the others.

“I am vocally enhanced” Mute leaned in, trying to whisper daintily.

“Thank you MR. AMPLIFICATION!!” Jazz interrupted.

"See, he looks JUST like you Emma!!”

Emma gave a doubting expression, “Because of the pony tail??”

“Yep, dead look alike”

...Ooooh,, yes it is, yest it is,, she looks just like Mute, poor dear, thicker though, she's much, much thicker...

“Cotton candyyyy” Jazz reminded, tapping a tiny clear shoe.

...Yes, yes, cotton candy, we love cotton candy, it melts you know!! That it does, melts right there in your head!! I love cotton candy head melting!!...

"Pii-ink??!!" Jazz strongly suggested.

Emma pulled out cone after cone of yes, "pink" cotton candy, from her pockets and tossed them into the air to be greeted with unrestrained screams of laughter and clapping.

She grabbed a tiny heart button on her Pinafore placket and closed her eyes.

“Thank you, Grandma. I’m going to be just fine here.

The End
(for now)

Attention: GUEST WRITERS!!!!! And contest WINNERS please join me in the meeting hall,, yes there are donuts..geesh

SO I didn't get the overwhelming response that I wished I would because I really don't have a life and little things like writing contests and those cute little sample spoons at Ice Cream shops excite me. So, I took a shower and brushed my teeth so no one could say they did not want to play because I smelled funny ( I swear that was broccoli yesterday). And I would say:

I meant what I said,,
and I said what I meant,,
an elephant's faithful 100%!!
-Horton

But that implies that I am an elephant, and I don't know any Invisible Elephant Seductress',, soooooo..... Here is the storyline I promised yesterday. I did not ramble on like I normally do because I fear't people would be rocking back in forth in their computer chairs with drool hanging out of their mouths, an exploded gerbil stuck in their rusted brain wheel and the smoke alarm blaring. My post would still be up, so I would be taken to jail and would have to live without sex and mascara, no one wants that.. Hey.. WTF .. I'm living that way now!!! (Seductress starts rocking back in forth in her computer chair as the gerbil explodes. BUT,, the smoke alarm does not go off because it probably has no batteries and is like 3 miles in the sky and she hates the "big ladder"). Aren't ya glad I decided NOT to ramble in the story..

But I DID decide to sweeten the pot with this as a prize:

Same deal as yesterday, painted Seductress glass, with gems and sparkles... AKA Whimsical Dust Catcher Art,, only a bigger piece than the cat, so you get your choice, because I want ya'll to try and play with me!! (I said ya'll because it conveys a sweet southern nature that few can refuse).

SO FINISH THE STORY!!!!

You don't have to repost ALL of it because it's a little long, just write your fantastic part, I'll fix the rest...

This story line is open to ANYTHING you could possibly imagine!!!

The Secrets in a Pinafore
Written by: YOU!!
..and you.. and you...

She was a small framed, but feisty addition to a world that laughed at her imagination and called her weird, but sometimes quirky, she liked being called quirky.

Always finding ways to make her long brown hair fly in the wind, even when it stopped blowing one day, was certainly a wondrous task. No one believed she could see colors that never would exist in a crayon box or that she heard musical notes everyone else would refuse dancing along with, no one, but her grandma.

Her grandma showered her with compassion and allowed her imagination to bloom and flourish off each precious page of life, as hers had always done, weaving tale after tale into the memory of her greatest doe eyed fan.

When her hero had grown ill and was put in a nursing home, the little girl stopped skipping through each day. She visited often, sitting only a breath away, to hear every last drop of her grandma's tea party fantasies and the daring battle adventures that even stinky boys weren't strong or brave enough to take on.

On her last day on this earth, her grandma gave her a clumsily wrapped present and shared her best kept secret. In the sweet words of her final sentence, and the passing of her last labored breaths, a magical gift had been passed down to another generation.

"Life has pockets of reality that help you along the way, making dreams come true. But for the special ones like us, the secrets of fantasy can take on a life of their own. Some of these secrets are never shared, but you'll find all of mine, that I now pass to you, in the tree by the stream, on the blue side of the sky."

While wearing the little gift she was given, a blue pinafore with pockets galore, she dashed down to the stream, trying to hold back tears, and find the tree her grandma had told her about. Many dark, heavily branched giants towered over the banks of the stream. From every angle she tried, there was just one, on the East side, that she could see the shimmering water running past through the branches, surrounding the tree with the palest of sky blues.

"This must be it" she whispered, "the blue side of the sky".

She wondered how she would get "in" the tree. As she walked over and inspected the tree's huge roots, bursting of history and growth, she noticed an opening, covered with ivy, begging to be entered. After shimmying in, she looked up to a stunning view of seemingly never ending spiral stairs, enrobed in sparkle and indescribable color hues. It was bright, airy and magical in every way, beckoning for a loss of reality and the explosive fantasies of an inventive child.

This tree could transport a willing spirit anywhere it would allow itself to be taken. There were many places that her mind had only vaguely dreamt of and now, she would experience them in Technicolor. Smells, sounds and tastes, all swirling around, ready to be stolen for a memory.

Odd little friends were hidden around each turn, for once, her quirkiness would be celebrated. The images and life lessons from the tree, would become fairy tales and legend, for future little dreamers and passed on again, to a lucky few, to experience as their own childhood realities.

And there was more, the pockets of the blue pinafore carried yet another of her grandmothers secrets. Anything she could ever need, long for, or just dream up in her already fantastical world, could be found in the magical pouches of her frock. Just place your hand in and close your eyes to wish, seconds later the item would materialize as a brightly colored, perfectly developed gift for each task at hand or outlandish whim.

The very first place she would let her imagination take her was.....

OMG!!!! I CAN"T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING TO YOU!!!!!!!! (Guest Poster(s) needed)

Go tell ALL of your bloggy friends that you are going to be the guest poster on The Seductress' blog TOMORROW!!!! ----AND--- In a strange twist,,, they can be my guest poster too!!!!!

Yes, I know I did not give you very much time to put a slammin' post together, but that's because I know you will:

ROCK OUT WITH YOUR CHALK OUT !!!

(assuming you write your posts in sidewalk chalk on your driveway prior to posting them like I do)

- AND -

THERE'S MORE!!!

WTF!!!

THERE'S MORE???

OMG!! HOW COULD THERE BE MORE??!!

It's because this is my blog and I pretty much Y you all except for the kid that farts on my posts but leaves the blog before I can yell at him and all of my followers get caught sitting in his butt funk air (yes that's what THAT was,, sigh),, you know who you are,, I don't like you,, at least be PROUD of your Bassett Hound farts,,, geesh!!

Wait for it,,,, wait for it,,,, NOW:

It's a contest TOO!!!!!

I know what you are saying!!! This is already better then my first "soap opera" kiss with Chris Crumbly in a ditch in the 3rd grade!!!

But now,,, it's a contest too???!!!!!

OK,, so maybe that's what I'M saying and NOT you, but still, I KNOW you're as excited as a porcupine on a first date with a cactus....

....someone's getting poked!!

Maybe you'll say the following instead:

"Well, slap a Muppet and fix me a hot dog!!!!" (no really, I'm sorry, that was ME again, please fix me a hot dog though, I'm stahvin' here!!).

What's the prize you ask??

It's always about you isn't it??

What if someone else has a question??

Anybody else have a question?????

Anyone??

Anyone??

Bueller??

Bueller??

Bueller??

WHATEVER...

Here's a pic of the prize,, OH selfish one:

WOW,, THAT'S AMAZING!!!!!!

Well OF COURSE it IS!! I made it!!

What is it???
(You're pretty mean ya know)

It's a:
Framed
Double Paned
Painted Glass
3D-ish
Seductress Made
Art Extravaganza Piece
AKA: Cute cat dust catcher..

...and it could be YOURS!!!
...there are even some sparkles in there fer ya..

.... so you can...
get your "Seductress Sparkle" on!!!

(no stop it, sit down, no ovation needed, no really, just make me a hot dog!! How many times do I have to ask??)

How do I win????

Oh,,, I SEE,,, NOW you have a question.....
(loser)

Well, I'll tell you. I am going to make a Fantastical, Seductress Insanity Approved, Totally Out Of The Realm Of Rational Thought, Awesomely Twisted, post tomorrow.

Your job??

..Finish it..

At key points I will leave blanks that I need filled by your Wonderfully Wacky Unrestrained Humor and Nuttiness (almonds I hope or maybe filberts).

I'll write my ending too, but you cut and paste the story with YOUR genius additions on your blog site (just leave a link for me) to get more votes for your entry OR just post your story in my comment section, if you don't want it on your blog.

You could even email me with it to: jaley3@gmail.com and I will post it.

This is about fun, not blog blasting, I just wanted to do something fun with you all!!

I will post all of the fantabulously, slap ya momma revised stories and my followers and Lovers Of The Spectacular or "LOTS" as I call them,, will vote to select the winning post.

Let's say we end this in about two weeks, say August 7Th.

... Earlier if no one plays with me.. (insert sniffle here)

At that time, I will post your masterpiece again, send you that one of a kind cat picture and all of my love.

About a month later, I will show up for my hot dog and stay on your couch for a few weeks. (totally a lie, I will want steak and I will expect at least a futon)

YOU IN?????

Please say "YES" the last time something like this happened I was the only one dressed up as a hooker and things happened I wish not to talk about,, EVER.

Note: I won't really show up a your house, don't be scared..

......THIS JUST IN!!!!!!!

DO sweat the SMALL stuff!!!

WHAT?????!!!!!

WHAT THE HALIBUT ARE YOU SAYN' SEDUCTRESS??!!

All these years we have been told by mainstream doctrine and the mass majority of the "they saids" that we should NOT, I repeat NOT, sweat the small stuff and YOU think you can saunter on down the proverbial line with your great hair and change it NOW??

I gots one question Seductress:

"WHAT YOU TALKIN' 'BOUT WILLIS??"

Note: The last line was obviously little nod to Gary Coleman (RIP,, little troubled dude). I am sure he is somewhere hiking freely in the mystical "GUY" mountains. These mountains consist of perfectly tanned bikini clad boobies and rears along with cave like crevices complete with the latest gaming gear and software (you were totally going somewhere else with this I know, but no, sorry). He will climb each pinnacle and whilst at the top sing loudly: "The Hills are Alive With the Sound of Music", because he's cool like that. Sometimes, he opens his arms and screams "I am KING of the WORLD!!" and gets kicked by a Santa Hat wearing mountain goat named Moe, (they don't like narcissism) and bounces down into the "tummy" hot tub. Gary Coleman is finally happy now.

Sorry,

I could not find any pictures

of any bikini clad woman for you guys

WEIRD!!!

But

I know the gals are wondering, so I will share:

The mystical "GAL" mountains are little ridges of a perfectly toned "David Beckhamish" Ab Forest. It also has a black Speedo clad rear end "valley". There are beautiful man rear dimples there perfect for curling up in and fantasizing about Ice Cream. No mountain peeks are present as they would be virtually impossible to ascend. Convenient high end shopping at 99.9% off retail price and lively cafe' spots are located in the "Spooning" section of the mystical "GAL" mountains for your ultimate vacation experience.

Mmmm SHOPPING!!
What?? It's Beckham,, tons of pics!!

So now that *THAT* is out of the way, let's get back to business shall we? The tedious business of shattering the worlds view on which items to sweat.... small or big. I have declared that sweating the small stuff makes sense sometimes (at least it does in my situation at the present time).

You see, in most occasions the really "BIG" issues are overwhelming on their own and don't ACTUALLY need to be tended to further by releasing bodily fluids (or glistening in my case) and eliciting it EVEN MORE stress related attention.

Most of the time the BIG stuff is already heading into a particular direction, after all other options have been dealt with, and when you are left with a final conclusion or ending point, it would now be time for an air of acceptance and peace with the outcome at hand (also sweating the BIG stuff causes MORE sweat which is unattractive while wearing my favorite crisp white shirt or red swingy dress).

I am not saying the BIG stuff should be totally "back burnered" and not dealt with at all, I am just saying that if you don't want to end up in the psych ward, perhaps you should redirect your energy to sweating the small stuff, the stuff that is consequential and can be easily sorted out.

This will take your mind to a different place for a while.......

......a BIG stuff mini vacation of sorts.

Let us take a look at some of the "sweating the small stuff" mini vacation plans.

You could sweat such "small stuff" as, but not limited to:

aWhy you have tuna fish but NO Miracle Whip??

aWhy you forgot to put the trash out??

aHow your kid is surgically attached to your leg 24/7??

aWhy your DVD player will play music discs but NOT movie discs??

aWhy my daughter scribed the following phrase on her bed rail:











aWho is THE REAL,, PUDDING MASTER and when is the takeover??

aJersey Shores??

aJust how much WAS that doggy in the window AND where IS his bone anyway AND why WOULD anyone steal it from his home??

aWhy someone would think they could enter my home, see a very large piece of high end art:

... and say... "Oh, you're trying to sell a lot of things I see, how 'bout .50?" And expect me to accept graciously WITHOUT getting my paint ball gun?? .... whateva'..

aWhy foods that are good for you cost more than those that suck for you??

aWhat if I AM happy BUT I don't KNOW it at the time,, can I still play??

aWhen will I have sex with David Beckham??

aWhy exactly AM I in this HANDBAG and WHERE am I going??

aWhy I am ALWAYS out of Green Olives in my greatest hour of emotional need??

aWhy do I always get flocked with photo snapping paparazzi getting out of the PT when I am not wearing underwear??

aWhy ANY type of bug spray can't just kill ALL types of bugs, why do we have to be so specific??

aJust what DID make that little 'ole ant think he COULD move that rubber tree plant??

aWhen were they going to tell us that the the Hokey Pokey isn't REALLY what it's ALL about?? %%$#$%#@ liars!!

aThey say "love is a commodity", does that mean you are a hooker if you have sex for it??

Feel free to add your own.........