MALE INFERTILITY

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Have you read the latest report about how heated car seats may render males infertile? Heat has been shown to decrease sperm numbers and affect motility, but the Germans have spent research funds checking out whether the heated seats raise scrotum temps enough to wreck havoc on getting the little buggers up the road.

Who THINKS of this stuff?

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DEM'S GREEN

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Wanna follow the Dems lead in Denver? Look closely at the picture here and use it as a guide for what each meal you eat should include. Be sure you have a tri-color palette on your plate.

I'm all for saving the environment, but the current "green" convention going on now in Denver has me in hysterics. I have a feeling these folks have ALL come from San Francisco! The extent of the "green" guidelines is the typical over-reaching that has come to define the Democrat party. The fact that they actually issued "rules" for food vendors to have at least three colors of food on each plate and that at least one-half of the meal should be fruits and vegetables is a joke. It's scary in a way that has Big Brother rearing its ugly head.

We are in SUCH deep dog doo-doo in this country!

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NICKNAMES

Because of his inexperience, conservatives have been calling him

O B A M B I for obvious reasons.

So should we now call BidenThumper because of his loud mouth?

LIFE IN THE 'HOOD

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So I moved into this neat, new neighborhood a year ago to relieve myself in my later years of all the upkeep and expense associated with tending a house, pool and three acres of yard. At the time I didn't appreciate how much those three acres did to maintain my privacy. Now, however, living in a villa with a lot of neighbors VERY close by, I am frustrated that I can no longer retrieve the morning paper in my nightclothes; I hate to put my recycle bin with several empty wine bottles out on the street for perusal; I can't seem to get into my house at any given time without encountering several neighbors who want to C H - A - T; I feel under some pressure to maintain a watering schedule for the shrubs and yard so that MY yard won't interrupt the continuity of the greenery on the street; I am perturbed that parking on the street is so limited that other folks park in front of my place, making it difficult to circumvent my driveway. Nuisances, all.

But my graying hair and large print alphabet soup remind me that I made the right decision.

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HOW-TO (and other) BOOKS I WANNA WRITE

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How to Persuade a Grown Son or Daughter to Take Your Advice (Showcasing Your Old Home Movies)

Sylvia Plath's Humor: An Interpretive Guide

How to Find Mr. Right (The Promise of Psychic Readings)

Reducing the Number of Pink Ties in San Francisco (A Guide to Cross Dressing in the Castro)

The Nuances of Sexual Karioke

Spank Him Like He's Your Bitch (A Guide to Successful Cohabitation)

I think the last one is my best chance for a best seller.

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OLYMPIC OBSERVATIONS

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The obvious take from the Olympics in Beijing is the Michael Phelps story, which just goes on and on. What an amazing athlete he is. There have been millions of words written about him this week alone -- all complimentary and all justified. The interesting backstory to his ongoing accomplishments in Beijing is that Phelps' attempt to break Mark Spitz' 1972 Olympic record of seven medals in one sport has met with a pout from Mark Spitz himself. It seems Spitz has been snubbed by Olympic officials and was not invited to be on hand for Phelps' run at his record. It would seem to have been the thing to do -- have Spitz on hand to pass his legacy on to Phelps -- but obviously the Committee was not interested in the possibility of Spitz singing "I Did it My Way" and stepping on Phelps' moment of glory. It was probably the right decision. I've seen Spitz in many interviews over the years and he comes across as an arrogant, pompous ass. Michael Phelps deserves better.

Then there's Eric Shanteau, a U.S. breastroke competitor who was found to have testicular cancer a week before Olympic trials. Against medical advice, he delayed surgery and follow-up treatment until he competed in Beijing.

OK. Now WHY is water polo an Olympic sport? And dressage?????

Why has China bested us in men's and women's gymnastics and diving? Have you noticed how the U.S. women's gymnastics team comes across as sullen, pouty brats? With the exception of Shawn Johnson, those girls look like teenagers from hell. (Shiver.)

All in all, China has put its best face forward. The opening ceremonies were unbelievable, the venues are state-of-the-art. With the exception of the air quality in Beijing, it seems to have proven itself so far to have been a good choice for these Olympics. We just have to "forget" the politics for two weeks.

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WHAT I SPEND MONEY ON

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Once in a while I print out a report on Quicken of what I've tossed coins at, and it almost always disturbs me. See, even though I'm aware at the time of what I'm spending money on, somehow when I see that report in black and white, I wonder what silliness overcomes me from time to time.

There are two of us in this house and we spend enough money on groceries to feed a family of six. We end up throwing so much of it away. It's ridiculous.

Coffeehouses have their corporate hand in my purse. Coffee beans, coffee drinks, chai teas, coffee mugs, ad infinitum. It's ridiculous.

Huge quantities of paper products because I can't go into Costco or B.J.'s without coming out with $200 worth of paper towels, toilet paper, sandwich bags, paper napkins, kleenex in the regular and boutique sizes. Of course, I then get home with all this stuff and bitch 'cause I don't have any place to store it all. It's ridiculous.

Bottled water. The tree huggers would hate me if they knew how much of this stuff I buy since the plastic is littering the planet. It's ridiculous.
Books. I have at least a dozen books I've bought since Christmas that I REALLY wanna read that still rest on the bookshelf collecting dust. More on the book thing at the end of this post. It's ridiculous.

I don't know why the manicure people extract such a huge toll on my pocketbook, especially since I hate a fingernail longer than the end of my finger. Somehow, though, I feel more "together" when these blasted nails are in good shape. I know. It's ridiculous.

Art. I'm picky here but have things that I love. I surround myself with these pieces and they bring me pleasure. But I spend too much on this stuff, especially since my children most likely will not appreciate my things and they'll sell or give them away when I'm gone. It's ridiculous.

But the thing I spend the MOST on is cookbooks, especially regional cookbooks. I devour them, read every recipe, make notes in the margins, plan time to actually COOK some of the gems I find in those pages. They're worth every penny I pay for them, and this is NOT ridiculous!

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SOMEBODY HAS TO SAY IT

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Regarding the upcoming election, most people, when asked, say that race doesn't matter. Most are untruthful.

Hillary Clinton's worst enemy is her husband.

John McCain will challenge Ronald Reagan's nap and senior moment records.

Casey Anthony has done something terrible to her child.

For all his self righteousness, Bill O'Reilly secretly lusts after beautiful young women.

I give San Francisco five years. It'll be destroyed -- not by an earthquake but by its own stupidity.

Portland, Oregon, and the entire states of Vermont and Massachusetts will follow San Francisco.

We can probably count on one hand the number of members of Congress who put the country first.

Bin Laden will never be found.

Most of us secretly would rather have a Big Mac than a salad.

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THINGS I REALLY WANNA DO (BUT DON'T HAVE THE NERVE)

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Sometimes when I'm distraught beyond belief, I gather my inner rudder (LOLOLOLOLOLOL) and think about things I don't have the nerve to do but would love to anyway if I had the chance. Here're a few:

Tell George Clooney, Sean Penn, Michael Moore, Barbra Streisand, Susan Sarandan, Tim Robbins, Alec Baldwin, Chris Matthews, Nancy Pelosi, Madonna, CNN, et al, what I really think.

Start a write-in campaign to cancel "Mythbusters."

Arrange a hostage-taking for my grandson and have him spirted away to a tattoo removal joint.

Enroll my intelligent and beautiful (but domestically challenged) daughter in a Home Economics course.

Sit on a Caribbean beach and sip margaritas ALL DAY LONG!

Accost parents who can't control their children in public places!

Schedule an exorcism for a particular woman in South Carolina.

Do too many of these things appear to be over-the-top PROACTIVE ???

Yeah, well. At least I'm honest.

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INNER RUDDER

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What the devil is an "inner rudder"?

I heard someone use that term today and I had to scour the web for an answer. Evidently it's the ability to calm yourself, blah, blah, blah. (Another yuppie term for "chill out & blame someone else for your utterly worthless life.")

How is it possible to calm oneself these days? Don't they know about San Francisco, the Bean Boys in Borders, what happens to one's gumline while aging?

Jeez.

SISSY BRITCHES

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Don't you think we've become a bunch of whining sissies in this country? Nothing pleases us; we're over-the-top litigious; we fear terrorists, politicians, biking without a helmet, trans fats, getting cancer from cell phones, the national debt, that our kids won't get into an Ivy League school, that they WILL get into an Ivy League school, global warming, unwhitened teeth, erectile dysfunction, internet porn, yada, yada, yada.

Our stupidity and inattention to detail has contributed to the country's housing crisis -- we didn't know enough to read between the lines or ask the appropriate questions when signing the mortgage papers. We were SO ignorant that even if we didn't know what questions to ask, we didn't have common sense enough to hire an attorney to ask them FOR us.

We engage in groupthinks, rant and rave, protest and march to do something about global warming while all the while overlooking the fact that we should be expending our PERSONAL energies into rattling Congress' cage to get off its partison high horse and explore solutions for our very real NATIONAL energy problems.

We spend ourselves into oblivion and then whine that we have no money; we're afraid to die and afraid to live; we drink too much, smoke too much, take too many pharmaceuticals -- legal or otherwise; we're afraid to commit our time, money, emotions; we worry that social security is doomed, our 401Ks will be decimated by inflation, that another hurricane will bankrupt the insurance companies; we're afraid we'll be struck by lightning, that our silicone breast implants will leak, that gun control will pass; we're afraid Britney won't stay sober and that this will be "Monk's" last season.

We sit back and say nothing when left-wing liberals spit on and disrespect our military, which are putting their lives on the line every day so that those tree-hugging socialists can have the freedom to have a different opinion. We gripe about the Constitution, which is assaulted daily by LFTLW (Lawyers For The Left Wing); we hostilely confront teachers who dare to discipline our children.

We are just whining sissies.
If you're over 40, you most likely have parents who are appalled at the state of this union, just as you should be. We're in a downward spiral and I'm afraid we don't have what it takes any longer to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps.

Do I worry about this stuff?

Absofreakinglutely I do.

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MEN WILL BE BOYS

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I'm going to take some heat for this one, I know, from any guys who happen upon this post; but since this blog reflects my life experience and opinions, bolstered by factual history, so be it.

The story this week about former Presidential candidate John Edwards being "caught" at a Los Angeles hotel under questionable circumstances has saddened me. The story is that a married Edwards and a former campaign worker, Reille Hunter, are having a child. If this wouldn't be bad enough on its own, Edwards' wife, Elizabeth, is in the late stages of cancer. They have several small children of their own. The "love child" story is given legs by several things, one that Edwards appeared visibly shaken at being seen by reporters in the L.A. hotel and sequestered himself in the men's room until a security guard escorted him past the press. Additionally, the story has been rumored for several months prior to the recent incident.

Charles Kuralt, always considered a kind, family man, died suddenly in 1997 and left a ranch in Montana to his longtime mistress, Patricia Shannon. His wife and children must have been devastated to learn of all those years of deception. Frank Gifford, while espousing his love and devotion to Kathie Lee and their kids, was unzipping for flight attendant Suzen Johnson.

71-year-old Nelson Rockefeller died while in the midst of a sexual encounter with his mistress, 27-year-old, Megan Marshak. John Kennedy and Bill Clinton had notorious sexual escapades in the White House. Then there's Ellioitt Spitzer and his recent call-girl scandal. The list just goes on and on.

There are many reports of long-married men dying and afterwards their secret lives with other women are discovered by their wives. What an injustice that those wives can't even have a dialogue with those dead, cheating husbands. There is no fairness in this world.

I realize that females cheat as well, but the statistics show that men far outnumber women in their extracurricular marital activities. What never ceases to amaze me is that cheating men never seem to realize that the odds are they will eventually be found out, but they do it anyway. Yeah, yeah. I know all the "biological" arguments that attempt to excuse men's behavior, but I don't buy it. A couple of additional lame excuses are that 1) men feel increasingly powerless in a society that is giving women more rights in the domestic and business spheres; and 2) that schedules and routines destroy a man. What a buzzstomp all this is. Men cheat for SEX; men cheat because they CAN; men cheat because they WANT to.

Someone once said, "Women need a reason to cheat. Men just need a place."

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