A Little Post-Holiday Musing

This Thanksgiving, I experienced detox. No, not that kind. Heaven forbid. I missed my transitional talk. What is Obama doing? He's like Waldo or Matt Lauer. Where in the world is he now, what's up? Have they gotten the pup? What are those kids doing? Did they eat too much turkey? Is it official about Hillary yet?

I was pissed at the terrorists for many reasons: they are assholes, they are bores, they are all going to burn in hell if there is a hell and since there is probably not one, big HA on you boys because there won't be any 71 virgins when you die. Much has been said on terrorism since 2001, and even before that, but no one has said it quite this way: terrorism is very passe. You did that, now move on. Think of fresher ways to be insidious without killing people. Put them in therapy after a good-long berating, or become the head of a financial institution and lay off a bunch of people and destroy EVERYONE'S retirement. Oh, and side note to the terrorist ASS who told us all over the holiday to just resort to Islam and our financial woes will go away: BITE ME. I'd rather be poor than religious ANYDAY. I'm not above shopping at Target, you wing-nut freak.

Anyway, as I was saying the terrorists pissed me off for many reasons, but mainly, I want my president-elect news to return. What the hell was Obama thinking two seconds ago? I wanna know. Oh, another side note: Can you not wait for Hillary to take over as Secretary of State? Listen up, Terrorists, you think she is going to put up with your acts of terrorism? Listen, she's a woman who has been cheated on, i.e, she's pissed. She's eternally pissed. And she takes it out on people. She's got a chip on her should the size of Islam and she is going to KICK YOUR ASS.

So next time you Islamic freaks run around killing innocent people, think about this: people in LA are shallow. We are too busy trying to get a parking spot at Barny's to care about your Jihad. And when we are not shopping, we are watching CNN because we want to know what Obama is up to now. We are dying for him to take over, and I'm, in particular, about to pee my pants for Hillary to take over her new role, because she is going to open a large can of WHOOP ASS on your freaky little heads.

Five Unimportant Things, and One That's Important.

Design Nomad (see link to the side) asked me to write about six things that seemed unimportant, but make me happy. Here's what I wrote:

1) Prada. I just love Prada, whether it is going into the store and just browsing, or a rare purchase of a product.

2) A big fat moon in the sky. Especially if it is orange.

3) A really well-written sentence, particularly if I wrote it.

4) Great wine.

5) This actually may be important, but seeing Bruce Springsteen perform.

Last, but not least---and this one is an important thing (far from unimportant, in fact).

6) Knowing that Hillary Clinton may be Madame Secretary. Imagine: Hillary, Biden and Obama in the top three posts. We Democrats have died and gone to heaven.

Hell May Freeze Over, but I have a Prayer

Dear God, Obama, or Bruce Springsteen, Santa Clause or whomever is listening:

Please, please, please, please, please let Hillary Clinton be Secretary of State. I wanted her to be President, you denied me that. I wanted her to be VP, you denied me that. Is this one little thing asking too much? Imagine, Hillary, dining with foreign leaders, telling them, "Play ball or I will kick your ass!" And meaning it, and succeeding!

Please God, Obama, Bruce, SC or whomever, please. It's been a tough year for me. I moved into an overpriced LA apartment where sparks fly every time I plug in a lamp, and everyone in LA thinks I'm a horrible driver and honks at me. I'm another year older, another year without realizing my Big Dream(s) and for crying out loud, I'm so short. Give me this one thing. Just this one thing. I swear I'll stop cussing, I swear I'll give up French wine, I swear I will not put anything else on my charge card, I swear I'll be nicer to Republicans, I swear, I swear, I swear I will simply behave. Just let her be Secretary of State.

Oh, and if it is not too much trouble, can you perform a miracle on my closet? When I open the closet door, please let it be full of wonderful Prada that fits me. 

Thanks a ton, err, Amen.

Van Halen meets Van Palin

The media has done a sufficient job in recent weeks completing exposing and blasting Sarah Palin. Today, the LA Times wrote  a story that, in my opinion, is Pulitzer worthy. The story was about Fly-Over bands: bands big in those states that those of us in California could care less about, except when they do something insane like help elect George W. Bush. These bands mingle Hard Rock, Christian Rock (a scary combo) and Country Pop.

Translation: this is very awful music that should be ignored. Nonetheless, a tidbit was revealed that has, for once an for all, put Sarah Palin's brain into perspective. She is a huge Van Halen fan, so much so, that she gave her son Trig the middle name of Van. Yep. Van Palin. 

Trig, by the way, was named after Trigger, the horse. 

Okay, that's not true about the horse. At least I think it's false. With her, who knows?