On Why I Choose Celibacy, Reasons #37-43

Taken directly from current on-line dating ads, I now present you with reasons #37-43 for my choice to maintain a celibate lifestyle.
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REASON #37:---------SKREEEECCHH--------------Easy there tiger. Had to leave job 1996 complications with ms. I can inartfully walk around, there are other strategies, plain fact is I spend a good deal of my time in a power chair. It's like, "who we kidding". Having said that,anyone there? Oh…Huh? Here’s the real question, buddy: Is anyone there?


REASON #38: love to get dressed up (he cleans up well) and go out dancing. Not joking. Ah, my junk works nicely (God has a kind sense of humor sometimes.) and love live music, and theater (small houses)..Argue like an italian. H E Y ! W H E R E Y O U G O I N G !? Just goin’ for some vino, babe. Carry on, alone.

REASON #39: in no order, big on farmer's markets, cooking, conversation, laughter, mad men, family, NPR. My sense of humor has and complex levels of intelligence, your mileage may vary. You’re clearly a hybrid. Synched w/ lyrics of Steely Dan, the new york cynical sarcastic mood that feels like you're part of a noir film plot.A fellow could do a lot worse. Me likey the noir. Me no likey your noir.

REASON #40: Looking for a woman who gots my back I gots to guess you gots one of those hairy backs. I gots no interest.

REASON #41: Tired of humorless guy? look no further I am a laidback, non judgemental type with a smidge of intelligence. (ok maybe more than a smidge) You certainly do display a smidge of intelligence, and even less than a smidge of humor. Hint: "Smidge" is not an actual word.

REASON #42: Hello, Thank you for taking the time to read my profile. I don’t have that kind of time, buddy, and I’m not even working these days. After considerable thought on this subject I have decided to be very verbose and concise in describing myself and the woman I am searching for. (Please allow me to apologize for the contradiction in terms.) Oy, you are tedious. Let me chop this down significantly, so as not to lose any followers. Trying to describe ones self is a daunting task, as we tend to see ourselves in a different light than we actually are seen and precieved by others. Oh, but preceieption is just an illusion. None the less, I shall endevour to be as neutral and accurate as possible while maintaining a  " Positive Spin" in a P.T. Barnum kinda way. That sentence was extremely painful, in a freak show PT Barnum kind of way. ..Lived in a Norman Rockwell painting for several years with no parental supervision...I suppose if I lived in a painting, I’d make sure my parents weren’t watching me either. Please Someone...Invent a time machine....Attended school in a four room school house....Ran amok (Sorry for the walk down memory lane.)…Became very "hip". Played in many bands, traveled the globe, smoked pot A bit too much, my friend. A bit too much.,..Once again I shall try to be very descriptive and to the point. I am searching for the woman of my dreams. ( Note the use of the singular subject of the sentence.) This woman should be beautiful, smart, sexy, funny, fun, spontaneous, brave, tough, (Able to put up with me.) enlightened, spiritual, sober, psycologically sound, healthy, monogamous, really cool, (Able to put up with me.) very loving and supportive in actions and words. A team player. Most of all this woman and I have to "Click". There must be INTENSE passion, love, respect, and chemistry between us both physical and psycological. We must have a unity of vision for our life together. (Once again, please note the use of the singular noun.) Thanks for pointing that out again, dude. Please note your monotonous use of the term “singular.” Get used to it, buddy.

REASON #43: Need someone to fetch me beers! I have a suggestion, sweetie. It goes like this: Go to the nearest kennel, ask for an empty cage, and stay in it. Don’t come out. Ever.

TMI & Dr. Philistine's EXCLUSIVE HOLIDAY SHOCKER! Part I.

With his left arm draped over the makeshift cubicle wall, TMI host Nosey Patinsky takes a sip of his ultra super sized Slurpee, pauses to swallow, and announces the following: 

Moments ago, TMI obtained official notice that Mrs. Claus filed for divorce citing “Irreconcilable differences; the guy’s a lush.” Our very own Frosty Showman managed to track down Santa at the Betty Ford Airport in Margaritaville. Watch this!

Mr. Claus, Mr. Claus, is it true that your wife filed for divorce because of your drinking habits?
That b*bleep*ch did what? Hiccup. Hiccup. Wait until I get my hands on her. You wouldn't happen to have any cough syrup would you?

We hear she wants custody of the elves. What do you have to say about that?
She's having an affair with some of them, isn't she? That is sick!! I can fit one of those buggers into one of my pant legs. Believe me, I've tried.

Will you agree to a drug test? How about a paternity test?
Will you agree to a prostate exam? Do I have kids that I don't know about?

Meanwhile, TMI’s Vixen O’Hara cornered Mrs. Claus at Floozyville in Jersey Shore. You gotta see this, guys.

Mrs. Claus, Mrs. Claus, we just learned that you filed for divorce and are trying to get custody of the elves. Is this true? What happened? Was Santa unfaithful?

Mrs C is exiting a club wearing a bustier and ringing her own jingle belled nipples.

He treats the Elven boys like his own personal sex army! I would nurture them and help them to grow--well not physically---but mentally as REAL viable men! Ask Mr C. about Mrs Fields and HER COOKIES!! It's always about the newest and freshest cookies for that man-dontchya know!


Did you have a pre-nup?
Of course we have a pre-nup!! But he won't remember signing it as he was tainted with 80 proof devil water and some X! He loses both sleighs and full control over the wrapping department as well as branded merchandising!


Mrs. Claus flashes a peace sign then removes her fur-lined cape revealing her own unwrapped cookies while jumping in the waiting Jolly Trolly...

Stay tuned as Dr. Philistine gets down to the nitty gritty of this holiday shocker. Can Dr. Philistine save the Claus marriage, or will Christmas be forever changed?

~Insert Bing Crosby's Silent Night and cut to the credits.~


The part of Mrs. Claus is played by TheInvisibleSeductress.  
PowderedToastMan portrays Mr. Claus.
I play Nosey, Frosty, and Vixen. I take no responsibility for the graphic that I created.  

***

Family Togetherness

Mom had creative ways of conserving energy (her own).

She was smart. Bath time was fun.

Pictured above (left to right): Dawn, Robyn, Glenn-David, and Jonathan

September, 1971 

Thanksgiving Love (A Repost)

Introduction: The following excerpt was relayed by the fly on the wall. Note that this is the same courageous yet depleted fly that zips from wall to wall whenever he hears someone exclaim, “I’d like to be a fly on that wall.” According to the fly, this brief segment typifies Thanksgiving meal conversations overheard from wall to wall throughout the country.

Junior: Put some turkey on my plate, you bastard.


Stevie: Are you calling me a turkey?


Junior: No, I’m calling you a bastard.


Stevie: Okay. White or dark meat?


Mama Dolores: That’s enough boys. You’re grown men now. Quit the squabbling. Herb, stuff it! Stuff that turkey. It’s too dry, and you haven’t done a damn thing all day to help get dinner ready. Like father, like son. Junior, I remember when your cousin Mike made a pass at Auntie Mabel one fine Easter Sunday. You stood there and didn’t say anything to protect her.


Junior: Ma, I was only 6 years old, and that was 35 years ago. Would you let it go, already!


Mama Dolores: Yes, 6, and a well spoken child, slender and fit, I might add. You just stood there like a bump on a log. Where did I go wrong? It’s no wonder you can’t keep a good woman.


Papa Joe: Dolores, it would be nice if you took the cranberries out of the can and put them in a bowl for a change.


Mama Dolores: Excuse me?! You come strolling in here only 3 hours ago, turn on the boob tube, and tell me I need to do more work to appease your snooty patoody tastes. I’ll tell you where you can put the damn cranberries! Sally, when is that loser of a husband of yours going to get here?


Sally: Ma, he’s sitting right next to me.


Mama Dolores: Oh, well in that case, have him pass the rolls. Wake him up first, would ya, it’s rude to sleep at the table. Let us all now join in prayer. Thank you, Lord, for this blessed meal with our loved ones.

Now for some real love (a non-repost):
Truth is, of course, I am grateful for lots. I'm not talking about parking lots. They drive me nuts. I'm one of those bumbling, purse clutching  shoppers who can never find my car. But I digress. I am grateful for much, including YOU. I'm touched by the great friendships, support, guidance, and mentorship I've received from this wonderful world of Blog. Thank you.

I wish you all an untypically peaceful and loving holiday season! xo

Dear Holidays

Dear Holidays,


How’d you get here so fast? Let me help you < pause > slip out the back door. Oops, sorry. I forgot I was wearing stilettos. Well, while you’re down there, I’ve gotta say something. Who invited you anyway? What with all that tinsel and sparkle, you think you’re hot to trot. Sweetie, you’re wrong. You don’t bring on the cheer. You incite increased need for Prozac. You multiply family tensions one gazillionfold. All this forced focus on love and happiness just makes us think about our losses and what we don’t have. Face it. You’re a downer, darling.

Financial problems torment us already. There you go, sauntering in, all flirty and stuff. Next thing we know, we have to buy gifts for people we don’t even like. Plus, we have to see them, and eat with them, and even hug them.

On the other hand, ever been alone between Halloween and Valentine’s Day? I can’t even grab a bite to eat without incident. Apparently, it’s unacceptable to eat alone, especially during you. Waitstaff never get it. I always have to overemphasize the “one” factor.

“Yes, I want a table for one. Yes, that’s ‘one’ as in ‘one.’ Me. Yep. I’m alone again this holiday season. Just seat me in that decrepit booth in the corner. Toss me a box of tissue and a bottle of booze. Got any soda crackers? I’ll be just fine. All one of me.”

Oh, quit looking at me with sympathy. I could be on a date, but have you read my dating stories? Check out the archives...See, I don’t have it so bad now, huh?

Sure, I could be with family too, but I’d be instructed to thank Jesus. Now, that’s fine for Christians, but gratitude towards Jesus does nothing to further my dreidle game.

This brings me to potato pancakes. [We're ignoring my dreidle game, 'cuz I'm still perfecting it.] I do love latkes. Those are scrumptious, especially when drowned in the apple sauce-sour cream combination. But have you ever tried making a batch from scratch? It practically takes an act of God. I’m not quite that good.

What’s up with fruitcake, anyway? It’s got no business calling itself a cake. Cake is not ugly or yucky.

Alright, I’ve knocked you down long enough. Come on in, and leave the chocolate-peppermint fudge on the counter. You can come back next year, but only if you bring some more.

With love and sincerity,
Robyn

Turkey Talk, Saturday Centus

~Pretend Saturday Centus button is here, since it's non cooperative and on a timeout right now. Thanks.~

Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus challenge involves creating a piece within 100 words based on a prompt. This week's prompt is bolded below. Check out Ms. Matlock's site for lots of fun turkey posts and other great stuff. Happy pre-turkey time. xo

“Pardon me,” said Tom T. Urkee,
“What’s all this fuss about?
I’m not so brave. I did not shave.
Mere stuffing gives me clout.


I must be plump but not obese.
I don’t know how to please.


You’ll eat me moist but never dry.
My innards make you cry.


You bite my legs but not my gut,
My breasts, but not my butt.


Feast on my darks, if cooked just right.
Douse gravy on the light.


But deep fry me and all bets are off.
Pass me over. Would ya?”

On Why I Choose Celibacy, Reason #36, aka The Barker

He seemed like a normal guy at first. We got lost in typical courtship discourse: How’s it going? Wanna grab a pizza? Can you touch your elbow to your ear?


At some point, though, he began barking. By this, I mean, he barked. He was a barker. I’m not talking about being snippy or an outright jerk. He literally barked.

I called him up one day, and he answered the phone with an “Aarff!” Taken aback, I giggled. Note to self: Dumb move, Robyn. The beastly vocalizations picked up in pace and frequency to an: “Ar-Ruuff, Arr-Arr (snort) Ruff! Ruff!” once every few minutes. This began occurring at mealtimes, in crowded movie theatres, shopping malls, and sporadically during every interaction.

In retrospect, clearly, the guy’s got Tourette’s. At the time, though, I was dumbfounded. I could not believe I was dating a barker, and his name wasn’t Bob.

You’d think with such animalistic tendencies, we had chemistry – if you know what I mean. Nope. On a trip to Tahoe, in a hotel room with a Jacuzzi, with me lounging in said Jacuzzi, the barker chose to sprawl out on the bed to watch TV. I can’t remember which show won his attention, but I’m guessing it was Lassie Come Home.

Now, I don’t have a problem with dogs of the canine variety. However, I do take issue with dogs in human form. Call me picky if you will, but I couldn’t take it any longer. I finally snapped and unleashed the boy.

“Go fetch! No, it’s further. Much further! Good boy. Keep going! Faster, further, further, faster…”

Life's Lessons From My First Day of Kindergarten, Part II.

Continued from Part I:

All these years and accolades later, and I finally understand my first day’s trauma. They laughed because I was so tiny. I still am, though I’ve filled out in ways I’m not so thrilled about. Then, it was one of those: “Oh, she’s so adoringly cute and little” guffaws. I don’t tend to field those anymore. Now, it’s the: “You make me feel so tall” patronization. Mark my words, the next person to tell me this will not feel tall when I’m through with them.

As I was saying, they laughed about my height. I’m sure of it. I mean, it can’t be because I had a long piece of toilet paper trailing from the back of my panties, or booger snot runny down my face. Sure, my bangs were jagged, but the classroom lighting couldn’t have been that good –public school funding and all. No, it had to be my precious stature. Right? You agree, don’t you?


You’re sweet, but don’t worry about me. I’ve clearly rebounded. Thirty nine years later, and I don’t even need to write over 1000 words about the saga. Alright, let’s keep it real. I hated being laughed at then as much as I do now. When I strive for humor, of course, I want you rolling on the floor hysterically and wishing you were wearing Depends. When your laughter is unexpected, though, only one of us is humored. I’m not the one.


All in all, I suppose I retained some prolific lessons from my first day of kindergarten:


(1) Adoration might present as ridicule;
(2) Kids are more sensitive than adults; and
(3) When offered an apple, don’t bite. Go for something a lot more satisfying and less healthy.
And so began my life by chocolate.

Life's Lessons From My First Day of Kindergarten, Part I.

Note one: This is me. We can be certain of this because I wrote "Robyn," erased it, and covered it up with "ME" in all caps and blue ink. Note two: Mom did lots of things well. Cutting my bangs straight was not one of them.  

~Kindergarten Photo, Kentwood Elementary School, Los Angeles, CA 1971.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stood shyly next to mom in the huge room. Mrs. Henry was tall and sort of old looking, with a big dot on her left cheek. Mom called it a mole. She appeared nice enough, considering she would be my teacher for the whole year. I listened intently to her instructions.

It was my first day of kindergarten at Kentwood Elementary School, and I wanted to do everything right. I always did. I always do. The task involved walking to the front of the classroom. There, Mrs. Henry would fasten a pink apple shaped name tag to our clothes, just below the right shoulder. I needed to stand still while she did this. That’s all. Yet, I was scared. I knew I could do it, though. Mom was with me, and I was excited to be in school.


Robyn Engel. My name! My turn! I bounced proudly to retrieve my apple. I don’t remember the apple or the pinning, or if mom went up there with me. I remember only an outburst of laughter that slammed my gentle soul. I didn’t know why, but the parents were all laughing at me. Mommy didn’t explain, as I abruptly retreated to the back of the classroom behind her skirt.

Despite that jolting start, I proceeded to enjoy school over the coming days, years, and decades. I did exceptionally well from that day forward, through high school, college, and graduate school. I even aced my LCSW oral exams on the first round. I was so eloquently boring that they cut me off mid-sentence with an: “Okay, you’re done.”

“But, wait, I have yet to reference the San Francisco Consortium for Seniors Embracing Their Golden Years. And, and I was just about to inform you of the complicated dynamics inherent in a trans-racial, multi generational family system with a pregnant adolescent. She might be a cutter, you know. We’ve got to consider all risk factors.”

“You MAY be excused,” the examiner reiterated, with a glare of impatience that sent me speeding out the door. Jilted, I passed with flying colors.

...to be continued.

Special Announcement, The Pluto-Goofy Standoff

Dear Friends,

TheInvisibleSeductress managed to bring together Goofy and Pluto for a confrontation or communication or just something weird. Warning. You have been warned. I played Pluto, with my special friend and famed dog whisperer, Cesar Milan. PowderedToastMan is Goofy. Then again, you already know this. Warning: See above warning.

Nonsense, a Robynism

It makes no sense to make sense of the nonsensical.

On a related note, thanks for your patience...Blogger is not happy with me for shortening my URL. I merely deleted "sgoneblogwild," and it's goneblogwild. Here's hoping it will soon come back to its senses.

Have a sensible Monday! xo

Happily Ever After, an Alpha-Thursday Post

I didn't participate in this week's Saturday Centus. Sorry, Jenny. Uh, the dog ate my homework? It's shocking. I know. I don't even have a dog. To make it up to you, I've joined the Alpha-Thursday team. I don't think there are any rules (I just kind of snuck in. Shh! Wanna take cuts?), except to post based on the letter of the week. This week, we're onto H. Here's Hoping you like this.

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Happily Ever After

"As wonderful as things are at this moment," Rabbi Wyse promised, "it will get even better, better than you could ever imagine."

Touched by these words, I stood teary-eyed with my new husband, an expansive rainbow colored stained glass window accentuating our loving aura. It was indeed a magical day, and a delectable future beckoned entry.

The months and years to follow, though? Not so much. Okay, when does this happily ever after thing kick in? I wondered, as life plummeted into a miserable abyss. How could a man of the cloth be so off base?

More recently, however, I learned the wisdom behind those words. The Rabbi was right, after all. It would get even better than I ever dreamed it could be. I just didn't realize it would take so long after the marriage, and the divorce, to find my happily ever after.

THE END

Choco-Quiz Answers and Choco-Smarts Award!

Welcome back, boys and girls. Take your seats now. I'd like to thank the seven of you who took Monday's Choco-Quiz. The Super will be so happy, and I like to make him happy - if you know what I mean. (Wink, wink.) The rest of you, the ones who used your answer sheets for origami, we'll talk later. Will you teach me how to make a swan? For now, here are the correct answers (in bold below).
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1) Cocoa butter (fat) comprises what percentage of the cocoa bean?
A) 23% B) 33% C) 43% D) 53% Yep. That cocoa bean is pretty fatty. Sorry.

2) Milk chocolate that is properly stored does not typically last longer than
A) 7 months B) 9 months C) 11months D) 13 years Note: I neither confirm nor deny the accuracy of this statement.

3) True or False: Valentine's Day is celebrated widely in Saudi Arabia.
The Saudi monarchy considers Valentine's merchandise contraband. For a moment, I thought I'd move to Saudi Arabia. Then, I remembered that I don't agree with any of their other policies.

4) United States standards require that milk chocolate contains a minimum of what percentage of cocoa solids?
A) 10% B) 15% C) 30% D) 45% Rather wimpy. Wouldn't you say?

5) Chocolate that "seizes" does what? A) cools to room temperature B) heats to a boil
C) clumps and hardens D) requires immediate mouth-to-mouth resuscitation

6) The machine that evenly coats candies with smooth creamy melted chocolate is called what? A) Entuber B) Ensheller C) Enrober D) Enabler

7) The gray-brown dust that can appear on chocolate is called what?
A) Bloom B) Couverture C) Matte D) Mold

8) Which company marketed the Reggie! bar?
A) Mars B) Nestle C) Hershey's D) Standard Brands I thought this was a paint store, but I guess not.

9) True or False: It is not advisable to drink milk with dark chocolate, because dairy products can inhibit the body's ability to absorb antioxidants.

10) The most evil chocolate company in the world, and one which has a known history of exploiting child labor, is:
A) Hershey's B) Her Cheese C) I Am The Cheese D) His Crackers
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As far as grades, I was generous with the curve. It was a tough test, and most of you didn't even bother.

The following students get B's: Anthony, Copyboy/Jesse, and TS Hendrik. Congratulations, boys!

A's go to Michael, Marlene (Sorry Marlene. I know you studied for an F), and Rachel. [Rachel is my gifted home-schooled student.] Great work!

Our star pupil, with an A+ for 8 out of 10, is Baygirl32! Congratulations, Baygirl!
Please accept this Choco-Smarts Award for your collection! You're truly deserving.

Class is dismissed. Run along, now, and don't forget your show-and-tell item tomorrow. Remember, it can't be alive or toxic. xo

CHOCO-QUIZ TIME!

Quiet down, boys and girls. I just received this letter from the School Bored:

Dear Mrs. Life by Chocolate,

We noticed that your students' standardized test scores could not be found. We searched well below the mean, median, and mode. Look lady, it does not suffice to send us their cute profile pictures and tell us how smart they are for following your silly blog. No, no. You must administer the following quiz pronto. Otherwise, we'll cut you off of that nasty chocolate pudding served in the school cafeteria. We know you like that stuff.

Sincerely,
Superintendent Dwayne Schneider

Well, I always thought Dwayne was a sexy superintendent, so I'm going to hit you up with this quiz. Sharpen those #2 pencils, or take your typewriters out. There will be no cheating. You can send your answers to my email or drop them off in the comments section. Good luck.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1) Cocoa butter (fat) comprises what percentage of the cocoa bean?
A) 23%
B) 33%
C) 43%
D) 53%

2) Milk chocolate that is properly stored does not typically last longer than
A) 7 months
B) 9 months
C) 11months
D) 13 years

3) True or False: Valentine's Day is celebrated widely in Saudi Arabia.

4) United States standards require that milk chocolate contains a minimum of what percentage of cocoa solids?
A) 10%
B) 15%
C) 30%
D) 45%

5) Chocolate that "seizes" does what?
A) cools to room temperature
B) heats to a boil
C) clumps and hardens
D) requires immediate mouth-to-mouth resuscitation

6) The machine that evenly coats candies with smooth creamy melted chocolate is called what?
A) Entuber
B) Ensheller
C) Enrober
D) Enabler

7) The gray-brown dust that can appear on chocolate is called what?
A) Bloom
B) Couverture
C) Matte
D) Mold

8) Which company marketed the Reggie! bar?
A) Mars
B) Nestle
C) Hershey's
D) Standard Brands

9) True or False: It is not advisable to drink milk with dark chocolate, because dairy products can inhibit the body's ability to absorb antioxidants.

10) The most evil chocolate company in the world, and one which has a known history of exploiting child labor, is:
A) Hershey's
B) Her Cheese
C) I Am The Cheese
D) His Crackers

Thank you for taking this quiz, and have a fun recess. Be careful by the handball courts; the ground is wet from last night's rain. I guess I'll have to talk to the super about that. xo

Special Report, The Rabbit Interview

This just in: Following an extensive, rough hiatus, Roger and Jessica Rabbit reclaimed the spotlight today, swayed by none other than Powdered Toast Man. Hop on over. I played the role of Jessica, and my s-s-special friend, Seductress, was Roger. Hope you like it, sugar.

On Why I Choose Celibacy, #30-35, aka MEET THE FODDERS!

Dear friends, you know that I do this internet dating thing strictly for your enjoyment. Right? Let’s face it, it really is all about the fodder. I strive to give good fodder, time and again, and I sincerely hope this fodder is good for you. That said, it's time to meet some more of the fodders:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
REASON #30: I like the women with big brains I'm not hideous, malformed or unpleasant.
No? How about peculiar, bizarre, and freakin' weird?

REASON #31: Ex-Neanderthal iso Neanderthalless Woman Just wondering... are you healthy, physically fit..person of integrity and limited hypocrisy, mostly politically conscience, socially aware and culturally curious? Grown enough to distinguish between male behavior and that of a MAN? Say what? Was that written via Neanderthal behavior or that of a NEANDERTHAL? Mature enough to understand the importance of self love? Do you dance as if no one's looking? Live in a box? Huh? This is what you’re looking for? As a man of conscious, confidence and competence, I love, respect and cherish a strong, mature, intelligent, independent and SECURE (self loving) woman..I appreciate her, therefore she need not worry about the toilet seat being in the up position at the wrong time (of course my appreciation means much more than that). So, do you or do you not leave the toilet seat up? Also, I am man enough to understand that sex does not equal love. Not if you leave the toilet seat up like a neanderthal.

REASON #32: Looking for down to earth girl next door Dude, did you think to knock? If that doesn’t work, try the doorbell.

REASON #33: Goals dont have any Somehow, I’m not motivated to pursue you.

REASON #34: What to say? I do dishes, Landry Please don’t be talking about our Sarah. She’s way too nice and intelligent for you, and not bad on the barbecue, I came out to help my sister movie into her new home was offered a job and stayed, SO here to give California a try I was told it was allot warmer here? ..thought Id stay one or tow years pay off my home then decide sell and movie here or movie back home, (still in the air) Well, Californians are big on movies, but we don’t tend to watch them in the air – except on a plane. In this case, it costs extra, not shore We’re big on the shore too, being on the West Coast and all. how it will sound but it will depend in part if I meet some one out here! just got back into working out need to drop about 20lb Don't drop it on your foot. That could hurt. like to meet some one to see the sights with have a good dinner with, to go any further than that it all depends on the cemeteries we have, Really? ‘Cuz mutual cemeteries can kill a relationship. I think if the cemeteries is good the rest can fail. I suppose that's true on Halloween, but now you have to wait another year. Sorry, so close.

REASON #35: Let's get retarted I think you’re there, babe. I suggest you stay there. Alone.
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Whew! That was painful. I'm afraid I can't even field questions anymore, not even if the cemeteries good. You know? xo

Confessions of a Chocoholic Fanilow

Part 2 of The Lying Game

Dear Friends,

With great apprehension and shame, I heretofore make the following confessions:

1) The Jack Black scenario is true! He was a sweet, quirky, little Jewish kid. We grew up in the same small, middle class district of Los Angeles called Westchester. If you've been to the LA Airport, you've been there. I'm ashamed that I made fun of him behind his back. Sorry again, Jack. If it helps any, my nephew loves you on the Wubbzy show.

2) The date stories are true. He picked up salsa from the table with his fingers and ate it. He ran for a cab in Harvard Square, where there were only 128 to choose from. He was kinda cute, though, so I was a bit disappointed in his etiquette (lack thereof) and priorities (lack thereof).

3) The shame. The shame. Can we just move on? Yeah, go about your business. Visit other blogs. This post is way too long, anyway..Hey, you're still here. Insert deep, heavy sigh. Okay, okay: I.threw.out.chocolate. Please don't dessert (pun intended) me. Actually, I wouldn't blame you if you did. (Sorry, Kal and Marlene, and the universe. I know. I know. The shame is without end. I tell you.)

4) Yes, I dressed like a hippie/pothead for a Halloween work party. Can you believe nobody accepted a brownie from me? As Alex pointed out, a gay man in a dress is not necessarily out-of-character. That's why I'm still embittered that I lost the title. Truth is, I have not ever smoked anything. I did get close to a marijuana plant, as Copyboy pointed out, only for the sake of a good Jamaican photo opportunity.

5) ***TS and Kelley***YOU ARE THE WINNERS! YOU BOTH GUESSED THAT THIS ONE IS NOT TRUE. I did NOT pose as Justin Bieber for Halloween. Phew! Um, well, I did revert to my 'ole Thomas the Train costume! It's true, Kelley. It's a large kids' costume that I've worn proudly these past two Halloweens. Hey, I get good chocolate in that thing. Plus, I like non-sinister kiddie stuff. Please forgive me. Please?

6) And now, join me in a rousing round of Barry Manilow's Copacabana, my favorite karaoke tune. I did warn you that my singing sucks, so just sing louder than me. We'll all be fine. YouTube - Copacabana Sing-Along

Finally, I'm passing this game over to our very own Baygirl, TS (Sorry to seemingly punish a winner, TS. You're just so darn creative), and proud Fanilow, MidWesternMamaHolly. Have fun with it, should you accept the challenge.

I'll just sit and stare at the screen now, anxiously awaiting your exclamations of shock and horror. Otherwise, just go about your business. Play it cool, and act like you don't know me. xo

The Lying Game

Kelley picked me to carry forward the game: “Five Big, Fat Lies and One Truth.” If you don’t already follow Kelley’s break room, by the way, you are missing out on lots of good, clean fun. She's a sweet lady, too.

Excuse me for this, Kelley, but I took the liberty of some rule tweaking. See, I’m a lousy liar. That’s the truth. Thus, I hereby present you all with five big, fat truths and..one little tiny, harmless lie. Guess which one of these six little snippets is false. That is, five are true in their entirety. One's a major lie. Which might that be? Insert sinister post-Halloween laughter here.

#1: My brother, Jonathan, was in Jack Black’s Temple preschool class. That’s Jack's birth name, not a stage name. He was a strange, sweet kid. Jack hid pieces of candy on the playground for other children to find. One day, his mom hadn’t picked him up, so my mom gave Jack a ride home in our station wagon. He was quiet. I remember him quietly thanking my mother when we got to his home. (Drats. Why’d we let him out?) I made fun of him behind his back, though, telling my brothers, “Jack Black can eat no fat.” (Not too creative on my part, but he was a skinny kid, so it was likely relevant at the time. Sorry, Jack. Clearly, I was just jealous of your impending fame.)

#2: Many years ago, I had two dates with the son of a well known theorist in the social sciences. We sat at a Mexican restaurant, munching chips and salsa, awaiting the meal. While talking, he knocked salsa onto the table, picked it up with his fingers, put it into his mouth, and kept on blathering. The second date was at a pizza parlor in Harvard Square. We shared pizza, and he abruptly said he had to run to catch a cab. Note that there is never a shortage of cabs in Harvard Square. Never heard from him again. It’s probably best, as those family reunions would have provided a frightening amount of fodder. My diagnosis of the guy: Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Impulsive Type.

#3: I host an annual Choco-fest. This involves a choc-quiz, taste tests, and chocolate of all sorts until one has nearly achieved choco-coma status. After this year’s festivities, I broke the law (my law) and threw out chocolate. I know. I know. Don’t look at me that way. But I’d already unloaded on the neighbors and the homeless at People’s Park in Berkeley. Still, I had too much left over. You really should’ve dropped by.

#4: One year, I dressed as a hippie/pothead for our agency’s Halloween party. I walked around offering brownies, with a big (fake) marijuana leaf necklace draped over my tie dyed shirt. I wrapped a bandanna around my forehead, painted a big green leaf on my face, et cetera. I’m still embittered that I lost the title of “most out-of-character.” My gay friend Mark, who wore a dress, won. It’s wrong, but I was in a peace loving state and didn't protest (loudly).

#5: For this year's Halloween festivities, I was going to dress as Thomas the Train, since I still have the costume from last year. For some strange reason, though, I changed my mind at the last minute and decided to dress as Justin Bieber. I figured, I already have the hair and was having a good hair day; I just took it up an inch or so and pinned it with Bobbie pins. I wore tight pink jeans, a t-shirt displaying “#1,” and big sunglasses decorated with “Gaga.” (He’s got glasses like that.). I put on lots of bright pink lip gloss and was good to go. When I had an arm free, I held my index and middle fingers up in a sideways V. Still, people were confused. I had to start singing, and that’s when they figured me out. {My singing sucks.}

#6: I am not nearly as cool as Kelley, who knows the hippest of music. I’m embarrassed to admit this one. But my life is an open blog, so here goes: I know almost every word to every Barry Manilow song ever written. (There don’t seem to be too many, and he hasn’t changed it up in decades.) My favorite karaoke piece is Copacabana. I’ve belted this one out at parties and on a cruise ship. I cleared the room every time. I think I was the only one applauding for me. See #5. {My singing sucks.}

I know these are all believable, but one is a lie. I swear, though not usually. Name the lie. ~Insert Sesame Street's song, One of These Things Is Not Like The Others, here ~ Thanks for playing.