Much Like "Lost"

this raises more questions for me than answers:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Pirg_zmE5c

&

For b-lo
and any other birthday celebraters.

If you are bored, check out this
bloke's recommends.

The Mirage

Bright Light City

gonna set my soul on fire.

I flew to Las Vegas on Saturday morning ready to celebrate my birthday and armed with a new digital camera.

The weather in LV was much better than in SLC. Here is a view of Las Vegas Blvd. from the airport.



At the airport, I bought a fountain soda. The fountain was self-serve. On the fountain a sign was posted: "Refills .79". Let it be known that if you pay $3 for a self-serve soda at the airport - and actually pay the .79 (plus tax) to refill it, you aren't honest, you are an idiot. No offense.

My first hotel was not glamourous, but it did have a nice view of the strip and excellent shuttle service to the Bellagio. A view from my hotel (again the weather was much better than in SLC):



I spent quite a bit of time at the Bellagio pools. Very nice.



Later that night, in search of a mobile phone charger. I saw Nicky Hilton at the Venetian. She was with her beau Kevin Connolly. I went up to her and said, "Hi Nicky, can I get a picture of you and Kevin? I promise it won't end up in US." Surpringly, they obliged:

Las Vegas friends.

(On my flight home I read US and learned that just the week before Elliot Yamin was "scolded" at the Beverly Hills Hotel by security when he tried to snap a picture of Nicky and Brandon Davis.)

I didn't once go to O'Sheas, but I did go to Wynn - and I highly recommend a visit to the property.





On Sunday, I moved into the Bellagio. The room was very nice, but the view left a little to be desired.



My birthday cake was a "Zombie." It was actually a drink. When I ordered it, the waitress looked at me like I'd made a mistake. She said, "Is big drink." I said, "Is big birthday." I didn't realize until the drink was delivered that her idea of big drink was much bigger than my idea of big drink. She brought me a trough. In the center was a floater of Bacardi 151 - lit. The other diners gasped. Including a stranger at the table next to me who actually said, "Holy Shit!" I wasn't dissuaded.



The next day, my dad checked into a penthouse suite at the Mirage. Top floor of the hotel with views of the entire strip. I wanted to move in permanently, and it took every ounce of self discipline I possess to leave and catch my flight last night. Here is a look at the awesome chamber. (Actually, blogger is tempermental - I will put those photos in a separate post.

Yesterday, I bought this swim costume. In case you were curious.

Happy Birthday to b-lo. Her birthday is today.

Shut up, shut up.

I know. I'm disappointed just like you. This is harder than I thought. Mainly because my coworkers don't trust me.

UPDATE NO. 2!

Back from hair. It's up-do with tiara in place. I am working on a picture. Failed attempts so far: 3. This is hard. I will come through for you. Wish me luck.

UPDATE!

Bridals are TODAY!! That's why the veil is here. (It was shipped to her by her sister as "something borrowed" and she needs to get it steamed ASAP for the shots.) Damn, I need to get my camera ready.

__________________________________________

OT (off topic): You. Must. See. This. I am so glad I have "Funkytown" on my iPod.

I Don't Want to Get "Dooced"

but I have to share this work-related story.

The paralegal whose cubicle is right outside my office is getting married in July. And the wedding planning is in full effect. Photographer, videographer, dress, rings, invitations - the whole lot, are being arranged all day everyday. Today, I got to see the veil. Apparently, she brought it to work to discuss with other paralegals how she should wear her hair with it. And this part I don't understand: she was saying that she can't wear the veil to work, but might wear the tiara. ("Huh?" you are wondering - well, me too.) I guess she is having her hair done and having a tiara and veil put in for her "bridals." (I think that means pre-wedding bridal pictures.) And they are going to be done on a workday. So, the paralegals are encouraging her to come to work with wedding hair and accoutrements. (I'll be here on time that day.) But she's wary of wearing the veil to work. No problem with the tiara. (This is her third marriage by the way.)

So the point of the story: I can't imagine how poor Jim must have felt on the Office with his Pam planning her wedding (to Roy) at work in front of him. I'd have turned in a complaint on her too.

I make this promise: if the wedding hair, tiara, and veil comes to work, I will sneaky squirrel a picture of that and put it on the world wide web.

Five Things

I love about SLC - in no particular order:

1. The valley view afforded by an early evening run down (and up) Chandler Drive.

2. The drinking fountain by Shriner's Hospital.

3. The Little America Hotel.

4. Rio Grande Cafe.

5. The drive from my flat to the airport - it's nearly a straight line along North Temple. (I do, however, loathe the drive back - particularly late at night or early in the morning.)

We're Closing Early Today.

For service, please head directly to www.sarazarr.com because her post today is excellent. A great Q & A about a book that I can't wait to not only buy but actually READ.

P.S. I actually text messaged a vote to American Idol last night. Having never voted on AI before, I was hesitant about doing it. Is it worth the time and hassle? Does my one vote really matter? Will my voice really be heard? Isn't the election already decided? But I realized, that if I didn't vote, I would forfeit my right to complain about the winner. In the end, I am glad I fulfilled my civic/pop-cultural duty. I hope you did too. I am really, really pulling for Jasmine Trias. I love those flowers she wears in her hair.

JCB Song

I love the Now That's What I Call Music series. But not the U.S. version. I like the British version. You get a double cd, plus alot of artists and songs that don't get any airplay in the U.S. I just ordered and received Now 63. It has a sweet song on it called JCB Song by Nizlopi.

You can listen to the song AND watch the amazing video here. You might need to read the lyrics first to fully understand it. (A JCB is a British tractor.) And if you like the song and video, be sure to check out the main site and click the lower right corner of the notebook.

Nizlopi - JCB Song

Well, I'm rumblin' in this JCB.
I'm 5 years old and my dad's giant sitting beside me.
And the engine rattles my bum like berserk
While we're singin, "Don't forget your shovel if you want to go to work!"

My dad's totally had a bloody hard day
But he's been good fun and bubblin and jokin' away
And the procession of cars stuck behind
are gettin all impatient and angry, but we dont mind.

An' we're holdin up the bypass
oh
Me and my dad havin a top laugh
oh woah

Sittin on the toolbox
oh
And I'm so glad I'm not in school, boss
So glad I'm not in school

Oh no...

And we pull over to let the cars pass
And pull off again, speedin by the summer green grass
And we're like giants up here in our big yellow digger
Like zoids, or transformers, or maybe even bigger

And I wanna transform into a Tyrannosaurus Rex!
And eat up all the bullies and the teachers and their pets
And I'll tell all my mates my dad's B.A. Baracas
Only with a JCB and Bruce Lee's nunchuckas

And We're holdin up the bypass
oh
Me and my dad havin a top laugh
oh woah

Sittin on the toolbox
oh
And I'm so glad I'm not in school, boss
So glad I'm not in school

And we're holdin up the bypass
oh oh

Me and my dad havin a top laugh
oh woah

I'm sittin on the toolbox
oh oh

And I'm so glad I'm not in school boss
So glad I'm not in school

-

Said I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.
I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.
I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.
I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.

And we're holdin' up the bypass
woah

Me and my dad havin a top laugh
oh woah

And I'm sittin on the toolbox
oh

And I'm so glad I'm not in schoolbox
So glad I'm not in school

Aw, said

I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.
I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.

Aw, I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.
I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.

Jewish Penicillin

I tried out a new Italian restaurant last night: Ghidottis. b-lo accompanied me. We had an excellent server and he really pushed the chicken noodle soup. Not generally one to fall for "suggestive selling," on this occasion I gave in. And he was right: the soup was excellent. When waiter came to our table to inquire as to whether we were enjoying the soup, "I said, 'It's excellent! My compliments to the Jews in the kitchen.'" He laughed knowingly, however b-lo was mortified. Although Food Network is her preferred television channel, she wasn't aware of the fact that Jewish people are noted for chicken noodle soup. How did I know? Maybe I learned it from Jackie Mason. Anyway, here is proof that I wasn't out of line with my commment:

From Wikipedia:

"The soup is often associated with European Jewish cuisine, in which chicken soup is the basis for several traditional holiday courses, such as chicken soup with matzah balls for Passover. Although poverty was rampant in the shtetl, chicken-raising required little land or financial investment[1]. Every Jewish family would try to acquire at least one chicken in honor of the Shabbat meals, and would try to stretch it as far as it would go. Thus, every part of the chicken was used, leading to the creation of such dishes as p'tcha (chicken feet), pupiks (roasted gizzards), chopped liver (chicken liver), stuffed hezel (chicken neck), and schmaltz and greben (chicken fat and cracklings made from the fat and the skins). Chicken soup also proved to be a "recyclable" dish. Parts of the chicken—especially the breasts, which produce a more delicate flavor during the boiling process—were boiled as chicken soup and then reused afterwards in such dishes as kreplach, knishes, and blintzes. Tortelloni-like Kreplach are traditionally added to the soup on the eve of Yom Kippur. Lokshen (flat egg noodles) are also a favorite Jewish addition to chicken soup. A lesser known garnish is unlaid chicken eggs, removed from the ovaries of a laying chicken. Herbs traditionally served with Jewish chicken soup are parsley and dill.

Chicken soup is sometimes referred to as 'Jewish penicillin'."

I don't do yardwork.

Well, I haven't done yardwork for many, many years. My friends and family love it, however. (Particularly my uncle Jim.)

A couple years ago Ali gave me a planter box that she'd loaded with flowers and plants. It was a great gift that I enjoyed all summer long. It was almost like a garden. Then, last year, she offered to replant it, but Mrs. Roper planted it instead. A very nice gesture, but I would have preferred Ali's design instead.

This summer I took matters into my own hand. I broke major rule #32, I believe, because I went to Home Depot to buy the flowers. Then I had to go to Smith's and buy dirt. While at Smith's, my sister and brother-in-law were also shopping there. BIL said to sister, "that looks like your brother in the You-Scan checkout." My sister said, "Well, that guy might look like my brother, but it isn't him. That guy is buying dirt." Well it was me, and another rule broken.

Anyway, all my hard work paid off when Ali stopped by to inspect my work and fertilize my floral fauna. She said I did a good job. I thought so too.

Now I just need to buy mini-flamingo, deer and gnome lawn ornaments to complete the arrangement. And I'm tempted to get this too. And since I'm such a gardner - one of these.

And isn't this awesome?

Fwd:

Sleep Sweet Sweet Nightingale. (For Stella.)

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I dont get this. Native Americans get casinos and tobacco?

What About Prom, Blaine?! What About Prom!

Classic Pretty in Pink line.

Last Friday, I read in the newspaper that the Mynt Lounge was hosting an 80's Prom Night on Saturday, May 13. Tickets were $40 per couple, with the proceeds going to charity, and could be purchased at such high-roader establishments as Lunatic Fringe and Bastille. I had to go. The problem was that I had other plans for the weekend. Saturday I spent the day at the Grand America swimming and sunning at the Grand America with family and friends. We later had dinner at the Little America coffee shop. It was a great day. But I still wanted to go to prom. For those that haven't been to the Mynt Lounge there is a description of it here in this City Weekly article.

I had grand visions of Utah's hip club kids turning out in droves for the event. I imagined everyone had been out shopping all day getting the perfect dress together or the awesome suit with skinny tie - trying to find a pair of cat-eye Vuarnet sunglasses to look ultra-cool - and deciding whether it would be worth paying $45 for a pair of checkerboard Vans that are readily available now, but still reek of 80's chic. And the music. I wanted to hear all the great 80's prom songs like If You Leave, If You Were Here, Forever Young, and even Take My Breath Away. I was so bloody optimistic about how awesome that prom was going to be, I couldn't get it out of my mind.

So I begged and pleaded with b-lo to drive me by - just so I could see the magic. I wasn't properly dressed for the event and wasn't sure tickets were still available, so I just wanted to get a glimpse of it. Mainly, I wanted to know that events like this really do happen in SLC and when they do - they go off BIG. Well, b-lo wasn't interested in prom. So I threw a fit. I manipulated. I blackmailed. I extorted. I maimed. Until finally, she caved and agreed to drive me by.

When we got to Mynt, it didn't look good. There was available street parking right in front of the doors. There was no line. There was one lonely, bored door man leaning on his podium. Luckily, b-lo had to wee so I talked her into using the toilet at Mynt. We walked up to the doorman and he said, "Five dollars each." With those three words, I knew that prom was a bust. I told him I didn't have any cash but would add the cover to my drink order inside. He said that was fine. Another bad sign. We went in and my gushing optism was finally crushed by harsh reality. The lounge was dead. I saw only one girl in what could maybe be considered 80's prom wear. Everyone else was in jeans and tees. b-lo hit the toilet and then we quickly left. I could not have been more disappointed. I left thinking, "could've been so beautiful, could've been so right, I'll never hold what could've been on a cold and lonely night."

Where the hell was everyone? If I could get my arse to the prom, why didn't everyone else?!

Anyway, what is everyone's favourite prom song from the 80's? I want to hear from everyone on this. Post up.

Reader Request:

One of my loyal readers, albeit heretofore a lurker, requested that I post the following Carolyn Hax article (taken from the Salt Lake Tribune), and solicit thoughts on the question and answer.

Dear Carolyn: Would you mind outlining why being ''friends with benefits'' is a bad idea? (I get the impression that's the case.) I'm in a friendship that could turn into that, and I seem to be missing why it could be a bad thing. - Pittsburgh

Dear Pittsburgh: I don't like the ''bad'' or ''good'' labels here. What I come across most is that FWB arrangements usually involve people who say they can't see why there'd be a problem with it - when the opportunities for exploitation and denial (of unrequited love) are staring them right in the face. As long as people are honest with themselves that they're attempting to reduce a potent emotional situation to almost a business arrangement, and that the arrangement is highly unlikely to stay within whatever neat boundaries they try to draw for it, and that people are likely to get hurt when it doesn't, then it becomes a matter for adults to decide for themselves.

Another question is for one in a "Friends with Benefits Relationship" how long can one stay in the relationship without fear of cutting themselves off from other more rewarding, fulfilling relationships?

I don't even know if I have a singleton reader demographic to prompt much response on this, but well, the lines are open . . .

Actually, I Hadn't Heard

I received the following e-mail today.

"Dear H. J.:

By now you may have heard the news that CARGO magazine is ceasing publication with the May 2006 issue. If you were a subscriber to CARGO, you will be receiving GQ magazine for the remainder of your subscription."

Had you heard? Likely you hadn't and also likely you don't care.

I could have told you this mens' "Lucky" was going to fold. Last year, well, Spring 2005, they informed readers that 5 pocket denim shorts were coming back in style and encouraged us to buy them. There was also a "scoop neck t-shirt" recommendation in a later issue. But the wine recommendations were generally good as were the tech reviews and other product reviews. Okay, boring post. Sorry.

Need Your Thoughts

on this website:

www.badmormonreceptions.com

Anyone have photographs they can e-mail in to help build the photo gallery? I think I am going to have to attend alot of receptions this summer that I would ordinarily avoid.

Nearly Half a Dozen?!

According to this news article, "nearly half a dozen" people have objected to the name of a restaurant soon to open in Scottsdale, Arizona. The restaurant is the "Pink Taco". And if you've been to the restaurant in the Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas, you know the people of Scottsdale are lucky to have such a fine establishment opening in their town. It's dee-lish-us! So really, there isn't any need for a negative fuss.

I love, however, that nearly half a dozen people - so that's at least three, but not quite six people, just four or five - were able to generate a national news headline over the name of a restaurant! I can't help but wonder: is it the power of the people or the power of the pink taco at play?

The Cheatin' Hearts

I'm sure there are many well researched sociological, psychological, anthropological, etc. articles in high brow journals that have dissected this subject ad nauseum, but I don't read those. I read more mainstream fare. And I don't even read that very often. But I do watch a few television shows pretty regularly. Shows like Greys Anatomy, The Office, The Sopranos, Six Feet Under, Lost, Desperate Housewives, Arrested Development, and BBC America.

So my question is: why is "cheating" a recurring motif in those shows? Well, mainly The Office and GA right now. And why are millions and millions of viewers rooting for cheaters? Why are the shows writers so obsessed with cheating?

My understanding is that American society values the institution of marriage. Indeed, the institution is valued so highly that it must be protected at all costs from any encroachments on its sacredness. Well, I'm not all that interested in marriage.

I'm more interested in why cheating is so glamourized on television - prime time television's comedies and dramas (it's not just for daytime dramas anymore). Why are George W.'s supporters lapping it up and rooting for cheating characters? Do married people want to cheat? Do they fantasize about it and get to live their fantasies out via these characters? Help me understand. I'm not judging: I'm really, really curious.

Why are plotlines with cheaters so successful?

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Waiting for summer to begin.

Regrets,

I've had a few. In keeping with my "office" theme, I'll share one my life's regrets. Trivial though it may be, here it is:

While attending University, I had a couple part-time jobs my first year. I worked at the Salt Lake Acting Company for a few weeks, then I worked at Arttix for a few months, and then I got a job as a runner for a title company. I followed that up with a job assisting commerical real estate agents. I had the latter job for my last two and half years of university. I worked 1pm to 5pm Monday through Friday. I tailored my class schedule around that job. It was a typical office job. I enjoyed it, it paid really well, and I got alot of great experience - including a real estate agent's license. Now, however, in hindsight, I really regret not working in retail. At Nordstrom or Banana Republic or similar. I can't figure out why I was so bloody obsessed with having a "professional" type office job. Surely I'd have had more fun working with kids my own age -- getting discounts on clothing or the like -- and having "shift work." Years later, I spend all my days in an office and envy the kids working at J.Crew. Lame, I know. But there it is, one of my life's regrets.

Or working as a lifeguard. I should have worked as a lifeguard in the summers.

Anyone else care to share job regrets?

p.s. I've another one: I regret that I have taken to referring to myself as Bubba (albeit only in my thoughts). For example, I just had an internal conversation with myself that went something like this: "Does Bubba need a little more lunch, or is he full?" "He's full." I hope that I stop mentally calling myself "Bubba" soon.

And I regret sharing the Bubba bit with you.

Only You . . .

So surely you saw The Office season finale last night: "Casino Night." In case you wanted my thoughts, here they are:

I loved it when Pam winked at Jim when he mentally moved the coatrack. (I watched that scene twice.)

I think that Jan is crazy. Nuts. An overnight bag? To stay at Michael's? I knew her in college, I think, and she was psycho then even.

Jim's tear. That Mr. Krasinski is a really, really good actor. (Did you know that he went to high school with BJ Novak, aka "Ryan the temp"?) I want to try that. Am tempted to go tell a woman in my office that I am in love with her and try to get a tear like Jim. (However, all the ladies are married, so maybe that isn't such a great idea.)

And the "speech scene" and the "kiss scene"? Both were heightened by the lack of music. (Although I think in the British version the "Only You" playing in the background for Tim and Dawn was quite nice.)

Apparently Steve Carrell wrote the episode. Well, well done you 40 year old virgin. Thanks for giving us so much in the episode. I thought the speech was all we would get.

Is it weird that Pam called her mom? Shouldn't she have called a friend? I suppose her calling her mom was more significant. More telling of her feelings.

I apologize for not giving this show a fair shot when it first started. I heart it.

And special thank you to b-lo who gifted the episode to me via iTunes.

Some Shakins:

I knew it! I feel validated.

Does anyone else still use the "can you pinch an inch" guide to fitness and weight loss? Was it a Special K campaign from the 80's? Marketing genius.

What's the word that describes the situation where the brand name of a product becomes the common name of the product, i.e. tissue/Kleenex, jeans/Levis?

Nornna strikes back. And she explains that she is not cross-eyed, but rather has a "lazy eye."

I'm still thinking about the "you don't get to call me a whore" scene from Greys Anatomy.

When I go to the gym, I can pay 75 cents to park at a meter right outside the gym or park for free in a nearby parking garage. In my head, 75 cents is one spin on a 3 quarter slot machine, a Big Gulp, a pack of ShockTarts (with some change), or a package of Zingers from a vending machine. So when I parking my car, I have to decide if the convenience of parking on the street is worth a slot spin, Big Gulp, ShockTarts, or Twinkie. Last night, I realized that 75 cents will still only get you that slot machine spin. The others are all nearly a dollar now. Shame.

Imagine living your life having never said the words, "shaken not stirred."

I Miss Assemblies.

Elementary, Junior High, and even High School assemblies were awesome. The best, of course, were the elementary assemblies because you had to take your own chair to the auditorium. (As an aside, one elementary assembly involved a group of cloggers. Collectively - the kindergartners through 6th levels - were not impressed. We all booed the cloggers and we later had an entire assembly on manners.) Anyway, this clip reminded me of an assembly. It's a six-minute video (stick with it - the last minute is the best) of the Evolution of Dance. From Chubby to Eminem and Village People to N*Sync. (This lively character did, however, omit the line dance to Ready for the World's "Oh Sheila" - and that is a crime.)

How can I trade meetings, seminars, and webinars for a good old assemby? Hell, I'd settle for a filmstrip this afternoon.

Two Cute and a WTF!

Sorry I made you look at those nasty feet. I received actual hate mail for it. To remedy, here is a "cute picture" [courtesy of Cute Overload - aka a "Stella Site"]:

Also, if you haven't already heard it, visit iTunes to preview and download Dolly Parton's cover of "Stairway to Heaven." She's certainly cute.

And not one, not two, but maybe 10 people I work with believe that the "Blood Initiation Rite" of prospective gang members driving without headlights and then murdering individuals that flash their headlights at them - is actually fact, not urban legend. Admittedly, I believed it when I heard it in 1993 - and why wouldn't I? British Knights sneakers could get you killed then for being a blood killer - but whatever. The truth lies here. But that $250 Neiman Marcus cookie recipe is totally true. And the business card chain mail. Don't ignore those!

Special Guest Star

Today's blog entry brought to you courtesy of Susie (aka Aunt S).

SUMMER PLEDGE:

The Open Toed Shoe Pledge

As a member of the Cute Girl Sisterhood, I pledge to follow the Rules

when wearing sandals and other open-toe shoes:

I promise to always wear sandals that fit.

My toes will not hang overand touch the ground, nor will my heels spill over the backs.

And the sidesa nd tops of my feet will not pudge out between the straps.

I will go polish-free or vow to keep the polish fresh, intact and chip-free.

I will not cheat and just touch up my big toe.

I will sand down any mounds of skin before they turn hard and yellow.

I will shave the hairs off my big toe.

I won't wear pantyhose even if my misinformed girlfriend, coworker,mother or sister tells me the toe seam really will stay under my toes if I tuck it there.

If a strap breaks, I won't duct-tape, pin, glue or tuck it back intoplace hoping it will stay put.

I will get my shoe fixed or toss it.

I will not live in corn denial; rather I will lean on my good friend Dr. Scholl's if my feet need him.

I will resist the urge to buy jelly shoes at Payless for the low, low price of $4.99 even if my feet are small enough to fit into the kids' sizes. This is out of concern for my safety, and the safety of others. No one can walk properly when standing in a pool of sweat and I would hate to take someone downwith me as I fall and break my ankle.

I will take my toe ring off toward the end of the day if my toes swelland begin to look like Vienna sausages.

I will be brutally honest with my girlfriend/sister/coworker when she asks me if her feet are too ugly to wear sandals. Someone has to tell her that her toes are as long as my fingers and no sandal makes creepy feet look good.

I will promise if I wear flip flops that I will ensure that they actually flip and flop, making the correct noise while walking and I will swear NOT to slide or drag my feet while wearing them.

I will promise to go my local nail salon at least once per season and have a real pedicure (they are about $20 and worth EVERY penny).

I will promise to throw away any white/off-white sandals that show signs of wear... nothing is tackier than dirty white sandals.

Don't keep this to yourself - pass it on to other sisters.

It's Bloody Brilliant!

The beer belly. My question is, can you use this if you already have a "beer belly?" I suspect this is what Kate Holmes was packing around for the last few months of her "pregnancy." No wonder everyone thought she looked stoned. She was just drunk.

Thanks b-lo.

The Rest of the Story:

Well, after grandpa took off for Mardi Gras, grandma headed down to Florida to dance with a 25 year old pervert and delighted a crowd of Lifetime Channel viewers. Coldplay provided the music.

"I Shall Wear Purple."

You know that poem by Jenny Joseph, I Shall Wear Purple?

If not, here it is:

When I am an old woman
I shall wear purple,
With a red hat which doesn't go and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and
summer gloves. And satin sandals, and say we've
no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement
when I'm tired. And gobble up samples in shops and
press alarm bells. And run my stick along public
railings. And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain. And pick
flowers in other people's gardens. And learn to
spit...
But, maybe I ought to practice a little now? So
people who know me are not too shocked or surprised
when suddenly I am old and start to wear
purple.

Well, when I am an old man, I shall wear an enormous prosthetic penis under a trench coat and head to Mardi Gras and scare the shit out of the old ladies in purple clothes and red hats. This man is my hero:



He deserves way more beads than he is sporting. Maybe this photo was taken first thing in the morning and he was just getting started. I hope people threw jewels at him.

Because Tattoos Are Just Too Mainstream?

Is that why there is a market for this?

These pictures actually hurt me. I feel pain.

Rest in Peace

The "faux hawk" hairstyle is officially dead. I realized that last night when I attended a Salt Lake Bees game. I saw a boy rocking the faux hawk. He rocked it hard. Meaning he had so much Dippity Do in his hair that it was actually hard. I suspect he was from Magna or maybe Grantsville. He was innocent enough. However, in my opinion, when a once cutting edge style reaches the population of Magna, it's over. The style had a good, what, six year run? Time for something new. Maybe the mullet will now be de rigeur. Or the ducktail/rattail. Exciting.

I tried to sneaky squirrel picture of the kid - in order to capture his hawk - however, it didn't turn out very well.