Without question...

New York New York .. Here I come.

Apparently, the wildly Hot Mr Fiennes is appearing in a Broadway SHOOOOOW. (Faith Healer) I want to go.. I need to be in the front row, opening night..

Bravo.. Bravo.. Mr Fiennes .. Bravo.. Who me? Of course I will join you for a drink at the Rainbow Room.. Oh.. Mr Fiennes, we just met.. I cant run away with you.. HMPH..

ANYWAYS, Mr Fiennes recently broke up with his, in my opinion, OLD girlfriend.. He needs some young blood.. Maybe he can show me a trick or two to impress Vic. I just saw him in Shindler's LIst.. I know, I know.. it took me long enough.. But I did see it.. and he was wildy insane. I was gripped by his performance. GRIPPED. But I must say, with no disrespect to my many Jewish readers.. (Shalom)

He looks WAY HOT in A Nazi uniform..

LONG LIVE K-FED! and TOMCAT!

I am getting the hang of this whole baby sitting thing

Yesterday, I headed up to the city to watch silly billy Jilly.. It was franklin's birthday.. and my sissy wanted to take him out on the town..
I headed up there about 2p.. My sissy had to hit the market before their big date.. primarily to get me some grub.. That is how she "pays" me for the sitting.. Feeds me a good dinner.. ANYWAYS. San Fran has some weird stores.. The one Safeway is kinda sorta by Pac Bell/SBC/AT&T Park.. and its this weird building attached to a prking garage.. So, we head into the garage and find a spot in this dank corner.. As I head to the door, my sister (wilth Jilly strapped to her belly) goes on a mission to find a cart. If I knew it would be a mission, I woulda done it for her.. but she is one determined little chick-ey. Anyway, as I am standing at the door, this fellow asks me for some spare change.. I make the cutomary.. OH SORRY face.. and pat my pockets.. I respectfully acknowledge his existence.. and say no.. and scan the perimeter for my sister.. He quips in.. "come on.. I am so hungry.." AGH! what am I suppose to do.. I know I have a wad of cash in my purse.. My $150 purse.. two thoughts come to mind..
1> How can I be such a tight wad and not give this dude a dolla..
2> if he sees my purse and my wad this mo fo is going to steal my purse..

I look at him and say HOLD ON.. I take 3 or 4 or 10 steps away from him and pull a dollar out of my purse.. I ask him if a dollar would work.. ( I Mean he was asking for spare CHANGE) .. He says..OH YEAH.. I hand him the dollar.. and then quickly stammer away... He tells me that if ever I need him to come find him and he will do anything for me.. (Where is my sister?!?!?!) and then he looks both ways and says.. Hey, I also got some GONJA.. want some? HUH? (what the mo fo is GONJA?) I finally figured out .. Yes, he IS hungry but it is in fact the munchies.. He is a DRUG DEALER! Holy Shit.. I sweetly decline .. BUT THANKS! and decided to quickly GET my sister.. as I walk toward the ramp to the parking garage.. there she is with a trusty cart .. I grab her and quickly shuffle her past my new friend... agh agh agh..
So, we shop.. and it seems really odd that there are like a MILLION young kids in this safeway.. like in PACKS. We kinda decided there was something going on at Pac Bell/SBC/AT&T Park.. Maybe a green day show.. or maybe a beastie boy festival.. We thought it kind of strange that many of them had on these orange BATTLECRY sweatshirts.. we decided that they must be cheerleaders .. and they were having some sort of competition. To be honest the little mo fo's were just loitering in the aisles and I was LOUDLY telling them to get the "F" out of the way.. !!! ARGH... We ran into a million more of these gangs of kids in the parking garage.. and along the street.. What was going on???When we finally got back to my sisters PAD.. we looked up on the internet .. and found out this weird freaky pep rally was being held at Pac Bell/SBC/AT&T Park .. it was for the youth of america to FIGHT against popular culture?!?!?! huh? What the F?? Are people just going insane or something? Then I thought.. wouldn't it be the coolest ever if my new gonja selling friend got a few of these kids to partake in his contribution to popular culture.. ???

At Rex Kwan Do, we use the buddy system. No more flying solo. You need somebody watching your back at all times.

Did you know that I am Irish?
I have been to Ireland and kissed the Blarney stone. If you are unfamiliar, It is a slab of rock located on the top of a castle.. the story is, if you lean backwards.. and plant a smooch on it, you will be 'blessed' with the gift of gab.. It will be no surprise to you, I am sure, that I must have smooched the damn rock a little too long.. because my "gift" has gone HOG WILD. I talk and talk and talk.. (no way! way!) Sometimes it is kewl.. you can have an awesome time with people if you are open.. however, sometimes, I can say something stupid and hurt someone's feelings. Today that happened. The problem is that I am not sure which one of my lame comments did the damage.
My latest victim was James.. (Isn't she cute?) I wanted to take this opportunity to say I am sorry James. I think you are a kewl beyotch.. and I never intended to hurt your feelings. Much love, sistah girl. Peace Out!

Cowgirl Chic!

OK.. Can you believe it? My bro in law went to Texas.. and brought this lil bitty cowgirl hat back for Jill...and the little monkey can even make this fricken hat cute.. Gosh I LOVE her!!! Oh, by the way.. Babysitting part deux starts filming on Saturday!! Stay tuned!

Erin Go Bragh!

March 17th is not only important because of the great St Patrick.. It is also the day my sweet nephew, Brendan, was born. Even though at 12 the little turd is taller than me.. He is the light of my life.. If I am never blessed with children of my own..Little Brendan will always have a special place in my heart. (I think it might be best if I don't breed with Victor.. but we will talk about that another day)
This past St Patricks, I took the day off work and headed to his school with my ma to pick him up. You know, spend a little quality time with the lad...
As I waited in the car for the bell to ring, I happen to be listening to the glorious rantings of a Mr Bubba the Love Sponge. He is a funny fellow who has a show after Howard Stern...
My nephew finally showed up.. and we began our journey home. Bubba was chatting to another fellow about carpets and drapes. Now just so you aren't led astray.. he was not talking about decorating, but the eloquent way to ask a fair maiden if the color of the hair on her head .. matches her kooch hair. Now, being a woman of the world.. I grasped the jist of the conversation and B-U-S-T-E-D a gut.. literally. Tears were welling up and I thought, momentarily, that I should pull over to regain my composure. My mother, in the rear of the vehicle.. also fell into a fit of laughter.. We both realized simultaneously that my nephew was also laughing.. and loudly saying.. carpet matches the drapes.... carpet matches the drapes.. Har Har..

Hmm..

In my messed up mind, I thought.. of course we need to explain this to him.. We cant have him saying this phrase to someone who might not know of his innocence..
I gently reviewed the facts.. Some woman, whether it be natural or through the help of the lovely Miss Clairol, change the color of the hair on their heads.. and the phrase merely inquired if that hair color matched a ladies cooter fuzz. My nephews eyes lit up.. and he began to laugh like I have never heard him laugh before... He wanted to call my sister and pose the question to her.. My mother thought poorly of the idea.. but I said, What the F**K! As the phone rang, he was formulating his devilish question.. I could see his little eyes dance in delight ... She finally answered.. and he let out a giggle before he could even say hello.. Finally, he blurted out.. Do your carpets match your drapes?? without missing a beat, my sister said.. I HAVE HARDWOOD FLOORS.. Little Brendan was dumbfounded.. Why hadn't it worked??
As he hung up with my sister, I reached my ma's place and they both hopped out. We waved goodbye and I figured the fun was over ...he would soon forget about "decorating with MEG".. Thank goodness, I thought.

About 5 minutes later, my phone rang... I answered to my nephew's booming voice .. "how is your cooter flambey?" ugh..........
I CREATED A MONSTER!

Mama Alves and her time in the pokie

Victor shared a little tid bit of Maria(My MIL) history that seemed to make the picture a little clearer.

Grab some popcorn, boys and girls, it is time for a story...

When Victor's Pa and Ma immigrated from Portugal in the 1960's they made their final destination San Jose, California. At that time, the practice of the city was to have new arrivals go to the police department and be fingerprinted so they could be given identification cards.
The couple proudly went at their designated time and proceeded to be interviewed for their ID cards. Maria was taken into a room alone for her interview and was asked a myriad of questions. She seemed to do well, until the Cop asked her if she had ever been in jail. She wasn't familiar with the word jail.. as her english was very limited. He threw out a bunch of words related to jail, in hopes he would be able to get across the question to her.. "Jail.. police.. crime..arrested?? " When she heard police, she happily piped up yes.. yes.. police.. jail. She was saying that yes she had in fact been to the local police station in Portugal before.. and not that she had been arrested.. but the cop happily checked the box yes indicating that she had in fact committed a crime. This is how the most delightful, Ms Alves.. Maria.. my MIL.. has a police record!!!!
Now if it was me, I would straighten the whole situation out.. but no, my MIL believes they will put a tracking device on her and search her cob-webby crevices for drugs..
Personally, if I knew that my inability to speak English had caused such a horrible misunderstanding (that has not been cleared up to this day) to take place.. I would take the time to learn the language...
Mental note: Take advantage of her inability to speak English ... Make annoymous tip to crime hotline about possible drug ring led by Mama Alves.


disclaimer: photo is NOT the real Ms Alves but an actor playing the part of fugitive Alves.

smelling like roses is a slight fabrication..

For some reason, the old system has been acting whacky. Maybe its the stress over granny or perhaps ..perhaps it was the "Krab" salad that I devoured at the fresh choice up in SF??? ..AGH!!! Who would have thought that you can't trust "Krab" .. what is this world coming too??!?!?!?

Whatever the reason, my most recent visits to the crapper have become quite eventful..

Just today, when I got home from work , I made a mad dash for the lavatory.. because... well, as Flavor Flav says, I had to drop the kids off at the pool...

(heavy sigh)


As I was doing my business, I could hear the MIL and the SIL talking.. When did the SIL show up?? (sister in law) I began to wonder.. if voices could be heard through the wall we shared, maybe my funkiness could somehow waft over into my MILs house..OH NO.. !!! I freaked out .. What am I going to do.. the picture I painted of what a delicate flower I am took so long to paint .. these freaks are going to think I am just like them!!!! I started to hyperventilate .. gasp.. gasp.. Just as I was about to pass out .. I realized that I had a book of Matches.. shew!!!
I lit the match ..let it burn a little .. let the sulpher eat the stink ... Then I had a bright idea ..I could safely drop the match between my legs into what I assumed would be a bowl of water.. I watched in horror as the match fell into a pile of toilet paper.. I was mortified as the paper quickly "whoooshed" into a flame ball.. It came creeping up to my cooter.. I lept up in a state of panic!!! Needless to say, my cooter is fine.. I just singed my cooter fuzz... and I can't for the life of me get the smell of burnt cooter out of the house.. Does anyone have any suggestions???.. hmm.

History and the thing about repeating it...

It really hasn't been that long.. Since I have spoken to you, dear reader, about the piece of ass actor, Mr Ralph Fiennes. But I can't help it!! I have been unfairly influenced. I am only SO strong, dear reader.. I happened upon my copy of the English Patient, and HAD to watch it.... I was trying desperately to catch my breath when he was in the desert.. and the sun lit up his awesome bod.. It pained me that a man could be so damn hot.. PAINED ME. I mean he promised that he would return for her and he did.. He came back for her..

Mental note: renew tanning salon subscription. Ralph might be more hot for me if I didn't have the whole albino skin thing going.

Back to the weekend... (la fin de semaine de merde)

Gran and Shan shopping for baby stuff before Jill was born

So, I ended up taking the entire week off work.. With granny in the hospital, I could not handle being at work.. Many of my "peers" seem to find stupid things important.. and it is difficult being in the room where yet another mindless discussion about American Idol is taking place..
The night granny got out of surgery, she was REALLY out of it.. I honestly believe she was mildly possessed by her nemesis "evil granny" (similar to evil baby when Shannon went out.. and I was alone with Jill.. But that is for another day..) She was in such pain.. she couldn't see anything BUT the pain.. I was glad to see she came through.. but seeing her like this was hard.. The next couple of days, she was in ICU.. and she continued to be in pain.... They had her in a morphine comma.. and she was barely awake.. Today, I finally saw Granny.. I mean, I have been there every day.. but she wasn't.. It is really scary to be without her.. and I do not look forward AT all to that day.. But, she is back.. She is terribly depressed because she has been in the hospital for a very long time.. But she was happy to see the Oscar's tonight.. Simple thing .. Made her happy. Keep praying.

merde!

pardonner mon français

Call me Paris. Ms Frenchie if your NASTY!

Why are all curse words considered French? Are the French just naturally bad? I ask this, because I wanted to start this post off with.. Pardon my French, but this weekend was shitty... and then I got to thinking, as I often do, about the whole idea about pardoning my French.. I only know 2 or 3 words.. (and 1 hot phrase ...vous le vous couche avec mois sei soi) and one of them isn't shit.. so, rather then expound on my shitty weekend, I went on a search and a journey..to increase my French vocabulary.. I want to know how to say shit in French, so when I say it.. I can honestly ask you to pardon my French.. How chic of me! hmm.. I will be back shortly with my findings...

In case there was any question...

Here, dear reader.. This fine Sunday, I popped my head out the back door to find this...


My MIL dancing with my pooch..

Yes, that is a Home Depot bag on her head..

How can I possibly compete with such womanlyness? I mean I don't even own a moo-moo...

Coming in at a strong 7..

When it comes to appreciating the beauty of the opposite sex, I tend to go overboard. I must admit, though... that my taste is ever expanding .. I blame my lady hormones that are coursing through my body.. I mean didn't someone say that chicks peak at like 35?? I am almost their baby!!!!
Anyways, for our new readers, let me briefly say .. I have a list of fellas that if given the opportunity, Vic has to look the other way.. The most recent addition to my list, Mr Tucker Carlson! He has this news show on MSNBC.. The Situation.. I like it.. I like his two cents.. I like his bow tie.. I like his devilish grin...I like the fact that he wears penny loafers and no socks ...and his pants creep up his leg like a flood might be just over the horizon... (sigh)

I also like this chick he has on from Air America.. She is a HOT lesbian.. and if I was so inclined, I would do her.. (heavy sigh).. I wonder if chicks count toward the list, or are they freebies??

Mental note: ask Vic.

Bon Jour-no Dear Reader

Dr Candy Pants

This week has been a tough week!!!
Granny went into the doctor to check on a pesky, lingering leg pain.. which turned out to be THROMBOSIS.. it sounds like an instrument in the highschool band, but apparently, it is a blood clot that formed in her leg .. In my grannies case it was very dangerous (heart condition and all).. They admitted her to try and get rid of the clots and figure out what was going on.. Thankfully, the super FINE cardiologist, Dr Candy Pants, was on the job and he started running a bunch of tests to figure out what was going on.. (he is real sweet and swarthy.. I think he might be Persian.. I wonder if I tell him my heart is aching.. he might tend to me??)
They found out that she had a major infection in her stomach that was eating away at her colon.. All day Tuesday they had to fatten up her blood so she could stand MAJOR surgery.. She had surgery late Tuesday night.. The surgeon was way cool and Mom and I were real confident granny was in good hands... she has been in ICU ever since.... her spirits are high and your prayers are appreciated..