It's Dr. Lori

I awoke this morning with an email from the website, Masters in Counseling. It seems as though Loripalooza has been included in their "50 Best Blogs for Marriage Advice," where we are listed at number four. Holy self-improvement, Batman! Loripalooza has never looked so legitimate. I feel inspired to do something worthwhile today. I probably wont, but still, I'm inspired.

And, yet there's the cynic in me that smells the irony in all of this. Is it possible to be entertaining AND therapeutic? And why does irony smell so much like a dirty diaper? Oh wait, that's something else. I must be going. A mother's work is never done.

Many thanks to Masters in Counseling. Click HERE to check out the other forty nine winners and get your marriage back on track after burning last night's dinner. You know who you are.

I'm Not Saying Who I'm Voting for but....

Are you tired of the mud slinging TV commercials where candidates focus on the shortcomings of their opponents, rather than the real issues at hand? Well, allow me to introduce Mr. Basil Marceaux. He's a (less than) average Joe who is running for governor of Tennessee and he has real issues. I mean real issues.

Mr. Marceaux's platform consists of passing legislation to "See why dental is not in most plans a tooth aches hurt more than a back aches and no teeths depresses people." Candidate Marceaux also expresses a passion for changing the state flag and abolishing traffic stops. In addition to legislation, Mr. Marceaux would also like to pass the eighth grade.

Like any political candidate, Basil Marceaux is not without critics. However, I'm sure he would like to remind everyone that he was found not guilty (by reason of insanity) on several of his past charges.

After watching the clip I'm not sure what is sadder, Mr. Marceaux's credentials, or the fact that part of his platform speech was over my head.

I will close with a quote from gubernatorial candidate, Mr. Basil Marceaux. God help us.

"I want you all to say the Pledge of Allegiance to the republicdom in the morning when you come out and we all pray to God and say, Amen. And everyone have a nice day. And I'll see you at the polls. Thank you. Have a nice day."

Bringing the Heat

An intense heat wave has hit the southeast and outside my middle Tennessee home it was 103 degrees today. That was the actual temperature, not the heat index. I managed to stay outside this morning long enough to water my flowers, but that was all I could manage. The tomatoes would have to wait until tomorrow. It was hot, too hot to breathe, and too hot to have on underwear.

I began running down my list of chores for the day and struggled to think of some way to entertain the boy without melting him. That’s when it occurred to me that it was too hot to do anything, really. Going swimming was out. The water would feel like a warm bathtub, at best. Going to the park was out. It was too hot to go to the zoo, or for a walk. So, we settled for watching cartoons and playing with his trains indoors. It made for a day filled with less action than usual, but we made it.

In my heat exhausting boredom I came up with a list of things that it is too hot to do. In addition to the above, it is also too hot to

· Skinny dip
· Cook
· Turn on the dryer
· Have sex (Now I’m just taking advantage of the heat, but he’ll never know)
· Come up with a decent blog entry

Forgive me, but I don’t function well in extreme hot or cold temperatures. My body is having a difficult time maintaining homeostasis and there is a river running through my cleavage. We’ll talk in a few days when things are better. I better be going. My lawn is beginning to smolder.

Brantley-isms (cuz it's been a while)

We went for our daily family walk this morning. As it turns out, seven AM is too early for mascara so I improvised in order to become suitable for the public eye.
Giant aviator sunglasses that make me look like a mosquito? Check. Ball cap? Check. Mismatched shorts and shirt (didn't really help the look, but) check and check.
As we approached the top of a hill, one of our three town police men (That's right, I said three. Please don't rob me.) slowly drove past us. Brantley gave me a heads up. "Look out. It's the po-po." He whisper shouted.
"Thanks, babe. Are we doing anything wrong?" I asked.
"Well I'm not, but you're dressed like you're casing the neighborhood."
"Thanks. Anything else?"
"You run kinda gay."
"Awesome."

A Moment in Palooza Pop Culture

Dear news media outlets, the status of Lindsey Lohan’s freedom is NOT news. I do not care how long she is serving, what the view from her window looks like, or whether her cavities were searched upon entering jail. But since you brought it up, what did that search turn up? If they didn’t find an eight ball, then they weren’t looking hard enough.

Everyone is gaga over Lady Gaga, and I too have to hand it to her. As strange as she is with elaborate costumes and controversial lyrics, I’m more than a little envious of her amazingly fit physique. I’m guessing she does Pilates though, because it can’t be easy to do crunches with your penis tucked between your legs.

Lastly, this photo of Jersey Shore's, "Snooki", and her father almost speaks for itself. I’m sure we all have a picture taken with our dads in front of a malt liquor display. Totally not judging about his hand placement, either.

Ode to Sunny A. Fish

Seems like yesterday we brought you home.
No longer a bowl would you roam.
But you had to be sheisty, and not one bit feisty
When you came down with a deadly syndrome.

Godspeed, Sunny. You were a great fish, for almost three solid days. We will never forget you, until we return to the pet store tomorrow.

Ms. Communication

When Brantley left for work today, his car wouldn't start. I have no idea what the deal is there, but he asked me to call the insurance company and arrange to have it towed to a mechanic. As I was on the phone with a lady at Geico, she began asking me a series of questions. Our conversation went as follows,

Nice Geico lady: "What is the urine color?"
Me: "Ummm, yellow."
(Her line of questioning did strike me as a little detailed, especially for a car insurance company, but I'll talk about urine with just about anybody.)
Nice Geico lady: "That's interesting. I've never seen a yellow one before."
Me: "I don't think I understand the question."
Nice Geico lady: "What is the YEAR AND COLOR...of the Saab?''
Me: "Ohhh, gotcha. It's a 2005 and it's gray, unlike my urine."

I had a good laugh, especially when she told me in a sassy voice, "Honey, the only fluids I deal with is oil and gas!"

Deep Thoughts

The Barefoot Bandit could've hidden out in the deep south and remained virtually unscathed for the remainder of his days (while sporting a cheesy mustache, NASCAR t-shirt, and carrying his barefoot baby). Instead, he chose to hide out in the Bahamas where people wear shoes. Live and learn, my friend.

the Mask

I was on my way to a writer's meeting yesterday evening when I passed someone on the interstate who was driving and applying makeup at the same time. I could make a "farding" joke here, but I won't because I'm classy. This brings me to my question, how on earth can you do these two things at the same time? I have enough going on in the car with all of my drinking and texting, but applying makeup? That's too much. If I even attempted applying makeup while in the passenger seat, I would arrive at my destination looking like a whorish clown, at best. I think I will continue to play it safe for me and everyone else between here and the liquor store, by applying my mask prior to leaving the house. My only alternative is to risk being seen in public with a naked face and possibly being mistaken for Rocky Dennis.