Archive for June, 2010

Campfire Tales

June 30, 2010

I just came in from doing a little weeding in the stone patio in lieu of doing a regular workout downstairs, even though we remembered to fold up the tent’s rainfly this morning to open up my gym. It was a little later than I like to get started down there (I’m so regimented) and maybe it’s the mountain air but since we got back from camping, I’ve been kind of dragged out. Well, working in the fresh cool air did me some good this morning, I’ll tell you that and I feel like I can take on the world. Or at least this little helping of beef stroganoff leftovers from dinner last night I heated up for breakfast. So, either I’ll go move some stone this afternoon or go down to the dungeon and throw some weighs around.

I went to see my doctor yesterday for a follow-up from when I saw him a few weeks ago, the time when my cholesterol numbers and such all came in kind of high from the blood work and I have until November to get them down to where he wants them, through diet and lifestyle change, which I did once and I can do again. It’s just so hard now that the summer is here, the temptation for all sorts of no-no foods is so much greater; hamburgers and hot dogs, ice cream, deep fried oreos. Hmm, hold on, I’ll be right back. I just don’t want to go on any more daily medications that I have to. The blood pressure pill I take is quite sufficient.

 While the rainfly is down, I took this picture of my tent, which, as of this writing, is still parked in the garage and dry. I just though you might like to get a perspective of how big the new condo is. It reminded me of a few other things I never got to tell you yesterday about our weekend. You already know about the rain. It looks like the Rain Man of the Midwest didn’t get to his incantation or maybe his frequency got jammed. Either way, I’ll have to have a talk with him and see what’s up with that.

Rain aside, all wasn’t so rosy there at camp. There was a moment when it looked like the powers that be went overboard this time with upholding certain camp rules, one of which is ‘no unnecessary driving’. If you’re going to leave camp, say to go into town or any reason or to go down by the office to buy some firewood, that’s one thing, but they really frown upon simply driving around camp. After a camp party earlier Saturday afternoon, we ran into a guy we know who was obviously upset about something. ‘Dave, what’s the deal?’ we asked. We know a lot of Dave’s, it seems. One of them is turning 50 in October and we ran into another one in New Hope a few weekends ago, and one tells us how we’ll be missed in Provincetown this year, but I’m getting off the track. Oh, and the voice on the GPS on the cell phone is named David.

‘They got me,” camper Dave said, “the booted my car. You know how they don’t want you driving around. Well, sometimes I do it just to piss them off and when I got back from that party before, they put a boot on my car!” We prefer to not get caught up in camp politics, to not make waves, to just go, have a good time and come back home again, but this news really caught us to the quick. It was just so extreme a reaction from the management. We stood there talking for a while, listening to his story, thinking to ourselves that if this is the way things are going, well, we didn’t know what. When it seemed like we had him calmed down, we said our ‘see ya’s’ and continued on to our own site for some food.

Oh, we had a good laugh, that’s for sure. But we weren’t laughing as hard as when another friend, from Canada, this one oddly not named Dave, told us of the devastation another friend of his, also from Canada, endured from that recent earthquake there. Though Tim didn’t feel it himself, which was curious, because there were places in North Jersey that did; an office building was evacuated from it. This is the picture of the friend’s backyard. I’m making it small so it doesn’t hit you all at once, but if you click on it, it will open to full size.

Okay, one last picture for today. Can you tell who belongs to this iconic swimsuit from 1965? Answer tomorrow!

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What Am I Doing Awake?

June 29, 2010

Back today. I’m feeling beat up today. I feel all twisted like a very sore and arthritic pretzel (lightly salted) and my upper lip feels swollen like someone punched me in the face. As long as my teeth are still intact, I can deal with the swollen lip. Oh, man, I’m so sleepy!

Yesterday was a somewhat unexpected yet enjoyable partial day off from work; a sort of preview to my non-Provincetown vacation coming up beginning on Friday. It was a whirlwind weekend capped off with a visit from a long-time friend from visiting from California who was in the area and stopped by for an overnight visit Sunday night before he set off back for home yesterday afternoon.

It was our second camping weekend and we had invited another friend of ours to join us and shortly after we set up the site and were just having lunch he arrived, so we heated up another can of SpaghettiO’s (I know… but it’s tradition) and cracked open another beer after he got his tent set up. Then it was time for some R&R and let the cares of the past week, including that morning which got started late (and then we somehow missed our exit) just fade into oblivion by the pool. I say by the pool but I mean huddled in the smallest spot of shade we could find. I really need some color. I’m whiter  than a fish’s belly.

We needed to be back in New Jersey for a 12 o’clock noon lunch for Ariel’s nephew’s birthday so we hemmed and hawed about what time Sunday morning we should leave Pennsylvania to allow us ample time to unpack the truck, get cleaned up and get to lunch. We agreed, grimacing all the way about it, on 8 AM and to hasten our getaway we figured it would be a good idea to pack up most of our gear, which after supper would be rendered unessential and we’d pack up the tent and scoot and get started on our 2 ½ hour drive back. No sooner had the last of the kitchen gear get packed away when it started to rain. Heavily. So the three of us huddled into the “patio” side of our tent for a spirted few hands of Rummy until it was time for the bonfire to start. Of course the rain had ceased by then, but the damage was done. Our behemoth was soaked and I could swear I was getting dripped on.

The bonfire went on and it usually does, beers were downed, some Jell-o shots were ingested and someone was passing around brownies and just like that it was 2am and time for night night. I set the alarm on my phone for 7:15. At 6 I woke up, panicked the alarm hadn’t gone off and remained awake until it did and yet, somehow, we didn’t make it out of there until nearly 9:30–an hour and a half later than we planned.

Got home, threw all the camping junk into the garage, showered, dressed and headed to the lunch and arrived twenty minutes late. Not bad, really. Enjoyed the food, enjoyed the company and went back to the house for cake until it was time to get back home and open up the wet tent and tarps and wait for Dave.

It was a leisurely evening that lasted into the wee hours and when my iPod refused to turn on so I could play a particular song I’d been talking up all evening, we decided it was a sign that it was time to retire. Ariel took a few hours in the morning to spend a little more time with our company before he went into work and my day began after Dave left, around 3:30 in the afternoon and didn’t end until 10:30 last night, with a break just long enough to have dinner. It’s the end of the month and I’ve got quite a bit to accomplish before end of Thursday before my vacation kicks in.

It’s Been A Year Already

June 25, 2010

You know what I learned yesterday afternoon? That installing a new gutter down spout by one’s self is rather taxing but not altogether impossible. I got the old worn out one taken down and set aside in no time flat while the sky wavered between sun and threats of rain. It probably wasn’t the best decision to work on that project with such looming meteorological instability, but it only hastened my work. And by the time I was finished the sun was back out in all its glory. Every step I tried to complete I realized I needed yet another tool or part and was back and forth to my toolbox at least a dozen times. I actually considered bringing the entire toolbox with me from the basement, but that would have been too easy. But, somehow, I had the pieces wedged tight enough that they weren’t moving in spite of the fact that the top strap was rather loose since it was formed to the original and the second I went to attach the bottom strap, the down spout came loose from the coupling above and fell to the ground. Three times. Finally I got out my trusty electric drill so I could make a hole to screw the pieces together, but alas, I drilled through the wrong spot. Fall number four. Another drill hole and another screw and that baby wasn’t going anywhere this time. Strap fastened, down spout secure, run off attached. Gads, no wonder those gutter repair people get paid so much.

 

All this after first learning that moving that pea gravel patio is going to be a long long process. I set a timer on my phone for an hour and decided at that point, I’d see where I was and whether I’d continue or quit and get working on the gutters. The “man of the ants” wasn’t due until about 4 o’clock and that gave me a window of two hours. But gray clouds were approaching and the wind picked up but on I shoveled through a threatening drizzle until it seemed as though the sky would open up at any minute. Coincidentally, it was 5 minutes shy of my initial hour so I gathered my stuff and made my way back up to the house. And the sun came back out and that’s when I decided there was no time like the present to get to work on the gutters.

I did some calculating. The patio in question is approximately 576 square feet at a depth of about 2 inches. Roughly speaking, since 1 ton of stone will cover 100 square feet at 2 inches deep, we have approximately 6 tons of stone back there which calculates to nearly 4.5 cubic yards. It’s hard to fathom there is that much stone back there, and what I moved yesterday hardly made a dent in it, but I’m not out to set a world record. It will probably take me all summer and that’s fine. It’ll give us adequate time to think of what we want to do with that space.

It may not seem like a lot, but I lost count at 7 loads and this is either 10 or 11.

Not doing anything today because, even as you read this, I’m off on my camping trip. Hopefully the Rain Man of the Midwest will come through and annihilate that pesky thunderstorm icon from this forecast.

And by the way, in the midst of all the media hoopla, today marks a year that Farrah Fawcett also died.

Coffee And Oil And Winky, Oh My

June 24, 2010

A recent comment to an earlier blog prompted me to use it for today’s. My sister reminded me about the time I was almost an “artist”. I hope I have my facts straight. If not, I’m sure I will be corrected. Quite a few years ago on a Saturday (I’m assuming) with some people visiting, a knock came to the door. There, framed in the screen of the front storm door, stood a man in an overcoat and a fedora and a badly scarred Karl Malden-like nose and he asked for me by name. He came in and made himself at home at the kitchen table and opened his brief case and began extolling the fabulous freeing life of being an artist. On and on he went until I just couldn’t take his sandpaper voice any longer and made it quite known I was not interested in what he was selling. He read me the riot act before he acquitted himself from my house for wasting his time. Apparently, my sister had drawn “Winky” from the back of a matchbook or the back of TV guide (when TV guide was still in its iconic format) and submitted it under my name since I was of submission age. By the way, did you hear, American Idol is lowering it’s minimum age to 15? I’m sure the popularity of Justin Bieber is the reason, though I don’t get the appeal, but then I’m not a prepubescent little girl.

The one thing the “Winky” incident reminds me of, is the time I garnered my sister an unintentional “F” on a paper she did for school. Though I’m not quite sure of is how the two incidents fell chronologically, I’m certain one had no bearing on the other, but it’s great story, now that a sufficient number of years have passed.

I’m saving that story for next time because I have a story about coffee. Researchers have found that drinking 4 or more cups of coffee have a lower risk of head and neck cancer. They don’t know why but they have concluded that coffee may contain anti-cancer ingredients. Wouldn’t it have been a little more effective if after all this studying they could say something conclusively?  

From the ‘you make the call on whether this is in bad taste or not’ files, have you heard about Spirit Airlines new marketing campaign “Check Out The Oil On Our Beaches” featuring suntan oil-slicked bikini-clad models on beaches in places where Spirit obviously flies and the oil they’re using is Best Protection? Some are crying out over the ill-timed insensitivity of it all, considering the magnitude of the catastrophic situation in the Gulf. I find it cleverly amusing in light of the situation. It’s probably the flaunty artwork that’s got everyone up in arms.

   

Maybe it’s because I’m becoming more and more cynical in my old age, but I don’t  think it’s anymore insensitive than a campaign aimed at tourism in Tuscumbia, Alabama, from a couple of years ago that used this as it’s slogan: (which I thought was rather tasteless)

And like Lincoln once said, you can’t please all of the people all of the time. Actually it was “fool”  but I think he should have said “please”. It would have made better point in this case.  Think of it this way: you find a joke about a colostomy bag funny until it hits home and then it’s totally tasteless.

You can fool all of the people some of the time, and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.~ Abraham Lincoln

Didn’t get much done in the yard yesterday, but today I’m outfitted with a brand new wheelbarrow and just in time, too, so I can start moving the stones out of the patio today. So looking forward to that this afternoon.

Operation: Take Back The Patio–Day 1

June 23, 2010

My first day out on my hortulan* mission yesterday was rather successful and it was probably the least exhaustive leg of the entire project; cutting down and yanking out the overgrowth. What a variety of every conceivable greenery from tall woody things with tiny little orange flowers to things with thorns an inch long and believe it or not, a grape vine and everything imaginable in between. And let’s not even get into the spider population. Good grief, daddy long legs with bodies the size and color of…if I said pennies you’d think I was exaggerating, but not by much. While I worked, I tried to think back to what in my life might have triggered my halting fear of spiders but my desire to get the job done overtook my attention. I have an idea of what it might have been though but I’m not 100% certain.

 Years ago, in my old neighborhood when we were all kids together, one of my friends had a pool in his yard. Not a very big pool, one of those 2 foot pools and everyone was in it. Everyone but me, that is. They weren’t letting me in. See? Even then I needed Rent-A-Friend. So, while I was standing outside the pool, I remember suddenly looking down and seeing a HUGE daddy long leg crawling up my leg.   It had to have a leg span of 4 inches and it seemed like it covered my entire thigh. But at an age in the single digits, 4 inches probably did cover my entire thigh. I remember my reaction was pretty much as it remains today, a not quite blood curdling scream. My then best friend tried splashing water on it and blowing it but on it climbed. I don’t remember much after that but I’m also certain I never made it into the pool.

So, here is a shot of what got accomplished on day 1.

 

Hold onto your hats, folks, I have a newsflash for you.  A new study suggests that  chasing Ninjas and shooting aliens for extended periods of time (sometimes up to 10 hours a day)  is NOT very good excercise. Oh sure, they’re all good for eye/hand coordination but in the long run, scientists have found these cyber warriors to have the lung function and aerobic capacity of a 60 year old chain smoker. They warn that if gamers don’t start getting out to play real games, they’ll face a whole host of problems in the future.

On to brighter topics. Yesterday afternoon while I was watching the archived Radio Chick show on Shovio from Monday, The Chick announced a streaming app available for a variety of smart phones and mine was included. I found the app and now, I can listen, not watch, (which is a-okay in a pinch) the shows from each preceding day. There was also supposed to be a way to watch the show live, but for the Droid it’s on version 2.2 and naturally I’m one point shy. But maybe they’ll work on that. So that new app made me fall in love with my Droid all over again.

And speaking of The Chick, I got this following video from her. I can’t imagine what the woman in the video was thinking or if she even was and I can only imagine what will ever become of the kids later in life. I also have to wonder who was shooting this video…Daddy? It’s so disturbing that it’s actually pathetically funny. Mother of the year!

 

*Hortulan: of or pertaining to gardening.

Ad Nauseum

June 22, 2010

I’m preparing yet another updated version of my agent query letter to send out. I found an agent who represents the type of book I wrote and she will be begin accepting submissions again on a certain date a few weeks from now. I read a few sample queries on her blog that she really likes to receive so I have to tailor mine to fit that model. As usual, you’ll be updated.

My trip to the dentist yesterday was a success although I was mistaken with the procedure he was going to do. What he did was replace some old silver fillings that were starting to fall apart. He did mention bonding on the back teeth the last time I was there for my cleaning two weeks ago, but maybe he meant that for another point in time.

I have a new project I’m beginning, hopefully later this afternoon. I see it’s supposed to storm later in the day than I plan on being outside so with any luck that will hold and my first day of my new pet project won’t be a wash out, literally. A few years ago we installed a fenced in stone patio down at the end of our property by the canal and we used it when we could. It was quite a trek down there when we’d ever have a party outside and even more so at the end of said party when we’d all be half in the bag and having to lug all the stuff up the hill back to the house. Last summer, Nature began to reclaim her space with a vengeance shooting weeds the size of small trees up through the stones and also the ground cover under stone and I kept up with is as best I could. Well, the battle has been lost and now it looks like an episode of The History Channel’s “Life After People”. After I saw what had become of my once pristine hideaway, I felt like that Indian in the TV commercial. I’ll take an hour or so each day to work on it during my lunch break and maybe turn it back into the patio it once was, or maybe that could be my garden area I’ve always wanted or perhaps I’ll just surrender it back to Mother.

I should have someone work with me. I could rent a friend on Rent A Friend.com execpt apparently no one in my area wants to be friends with anyone. I did a quick sample search with my zip code, which is how you get started, and there are people all over the state of New Jersey and even Staten Island.  Ah yes, RentAFriend, where the cost starts at $10/hour (or negotiate for a fair fee when applicable) for someone to accompany you in a strange city, or someone to go to the movies with or go out to eat or for whatever other platonic activity you have in common but I don’t see any options for menial labor. At any price. Well, there was one “friend” in my area, but he was geared more for party planning and this work ain’t gonna be no party.  Maybe I should try Rent A Handyman. Actually, believe it or not there is a service called Rent A Husband. That’s the one for around the house stuff. But I’m going to go with Rent A Brian and save myself the money and have that sense of satisfaction and the sore back to complain about at the end of it.

I almost forgot for the second day in a row. Our weigh ins this past weekend remained the same as last week.  I guess that’s better than it being more, right?

It’s Hot In Here

June 21, 2010

Summer officially began at 7:28 this morning. For the last few weeks, while the weather has been getting warmer, I’ve been perplexed why it’s been so, almost unbearably warm here in my office. True, the thermostat for the central air has been set at the same on/off times since I used to work out of the house in my stained glass shop in Newark and would go off soon after I would have left the house (around 6 or 6:30, depending on my mood) and come back on in a timely fashion so it would be comfy in here when I returned, but it’s just been ultra warm. Well it finally dawned on me that since we reconfigured the office, my back is to the east window (sounds fancy, doesn’t it?) and like you probably know by now it sometimes takes a while for things to sink in–the summer sun is pouring in through that window. How do you spell duh? B-r-i-a-n. As far as that thermostat thing, maybe it’s time I rethink how the on/off is set since it’s been about 5 years since we closed that stained glass business. B-r-i-a-n.

By the time any of you are reading this, I’m either on my way to or already sitting in the dentist chair getting my two back teeth bonded. Ho hum. I have one lone tooth that for years has been collapsing into the space between it and the rest of my teeth–it’s actually laying nearly horizontally–and it’s getting too close for comfort for my dentist and he wants to take care of it before it gets any worse. And then next week I have a follow up with my regular doctor to talk over my high cholesterol numbers and the week after that I have a new dermatologist in NY I’m going to see. What did you do over your summer vacation?

We celebrated Ariel and our friend Sue’s birthdays this past tessarian* weekend at The Sands in Pennsylvania and on a 40 cent bet on a penny machine, Ariel won $348. Of course it was after he’d gone through a couple of C-notes but the point is… And with my big windfall of $20, we actually walked away with ten dollars more than we started out with.

While we’re still waiting for the permits to come through for the work on the house to begin, I heard this morning on the news that if by July 1 the state budget has not been approved, the state government will shut down. I just wonder how that trickles down to effect us and our house project. My contractor was here last week talking about working on repairing the front stoop, since it’s part of the project anyway, just so he can add to his list of minor jobs he’s taking while he waits and he’s refusing any other larger jobs. But good news, he believes the enclosure will be available in two weeks and he will get that installed for us. That means I have two weeks more to try to locate a picture of the original bathroom. Or else I’ll have to put drawing skills to work. How does one draw a stick figure bathroom?

Tessarian: of or pertaining to dice or gambling.

Traditionally Speaking

June 17, 2010

The Vuvuzela is up against it and if fans and World Cup game officials can get FIFA on their side, the loud swarm of bees sounding plastic horns will be banned from being played. Playing the Vuvuzela is an African tradition and coincidentally, Africa is the host of the games. So, essentially her guests are telling her what to do. That sort of sounds familiar, but I won’t go into how I am often derided about my hosting capabilities.

The Vuvuzela, when blown, holds a decibel level of 127, louder than referee’s whistle (when it’s not blown, it’s much, much quieter…) and has been drowning out fans, commentators, national anthems, players on the field trying to communicate with each other and generally ruining the games for everybody. I can imagine. I’ve encountered similar horns in Philadelphia during the Mummer’s Parade on New Year’s Day. Just one going off in the general vicinity is rather alarming and almost deafening so a stadium full of them must create a delirious incessant drone. So, with the use of earplugs, plus the Vuvuzela’s manufacturers are planning on quieter versions. And of course there are all sorts of suggestions about how to quell the sound from televisions across the globe; lower the left and right speakers while raising the center one; playing with your equalizer…things of that nature. I say just turn the sound off, turn on the closed captioning and listen to dust blow across your floor. Still and all, while I’m sure the sound is incredibly annoying, I think it’s horribly rude to demand the host country’s tradition be banned. How would any of the other countries playing feel if one of their traditions were under such scrutiny? Except for here, we’d let anybody else make up the rules and that would be that (ex. Holiday party as opposed to Christmas party…or for really hardcore bleeding hearts, it’s a Winter party). And by the way, World Cup officials have realized that Africa is about music and that is what the Vuvuzela is all about and they have no intention of banning it.

On Tuesday, a new crew of mail jumpers got back to work delivering mail in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, the oldest continuous mail boat service in the United States. In the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, residents would boat into town to pick up their mail. But in 1916, mail began to be delivered by boat to the 65 homes on the lake. The boat never stops while the jumper hops off onto the pier, with all kinds of obstacles such as wet surfaces, freshly painted surfaces and patio furniture (and sometimes an unexpected swim), places the mail in the respective box and leaps back onto the boat. On Sundays big bulky newspapers are delivered. Imagine someone complaining about this tradition?

Then there’s case of ‘I told you to keep your paws off my hat without asking.”

Kitty Dearest starring Joan Clawford.

A “Moo”ving Story

June 16, 2010

“She called my name and seduced me, so I had to have sex with her,” was the defense given by Busti Ngurah Alit from Indonesia after a neighbor caught him in the rice paddy fields. 18 year old Alit was standing naked while holding onto not the back of a beautiful woman, but the cow who was so entrancing to him. To cleanse his unholy act, the young man, at the hand of the village chief, Embang Ida Bagus Legawa was forced to marry the cow. He fainted during the ceremony that also required his clothing be thrown into the sea. Then, to rid the village of bad luck, Chief Embang gave the owner of the seductress cow the equivalent of $562 before drowning the beast at sea. They should have at least burned it at the “steak”.

Just thought you’d like to know that.

A new study shows that every hour spent watching television increases the risk of dying from heart disease by almost 1/5. Other maladies that could be increased include cancer and strokes. Nothing, however, was said of utter boredom. Did you see the final season of LOST? The Australian researchers monitored 8,800 adults for six years and in the follow up there were 284 deaths; 87 from cardiovascular related problems and 125 from cancer. The other 72 MUST have been from boredom.

The study also states that watching more than 4 hours a day increases the likelihood of death by any number of reasons by 80 per cent. And if you add in the possibility that any short people in the findings from a Finnish study that revealed that people under 5 feet tall (because their arteries are thin) have a 50% chance of pre-mature death from heart disease were included in the Australian TV study, then those findings are rather skewed.

Of course watching television isn’t the only sedentary activity that can increase one’s likelihood of an early demise, it’s also sitting in front of a computer for work. Hmm, well, I work in front of computer, with the TV going pretty much all day and then I sit at night in front of the boob tube. So making any adjustments for my time with the weights and my aerobic exercise and maybe count in my trip back and forth to the mailbox each day, which sometimes can be twice if I’m sending anything out, added to the fact that I have watched hours of television almost daily for most of my nearly 50 years, and figuring that 1/5 daily risk, I’m sure I

Sore Feet, Still No Book Deal!

June 15, 2010

I scanned through an article the other day, after seeing an item on the news about how flip-flop wearing can lead to leg problems. Well, don’t you know, ever since I read that article, I’ve had an almost unbearable pain in my legs and feet. It might have been a residual effect from those “costume” shoes I wore a few weeks ago that had my feet all scrunched up and rendered me unable to stand in a natural upright position, but, no, that’s not the case at all. After all, I don’t wear them to fetch my mail, (what a traffic stopper that would be, huh?). I wear my flip flops, the ones with part of the sole that pulled away and sometimes “flops” under and gets caught on the carpet and boy, by the time I get back to the house, I’m ready to put my feet up and sip on a daiquiri. No, I’m kidding. I don’t like daiquiris. But the pain is getting better. I bought a new pair of flip flops this past weekend.

It’s really mind over matter, like my eye doctor saying, ‘you’re getting tired of wearing contact lenses, aren’t you?” and then I find myself in my glasses more often since I was there a few weeks ago.

And what’s with this woman, Donna Simpson, who is striving to weigh a thousand pounds? Currently, the 42 year old mother of 2 clocks in at 600. Calling herself a member of the “fat acceptance community” she is hoping to give plus-size women more confidence. OH! And she’s received a book offer! (DAMN IT!…or rather, WHAT THE F*%K?) and is hoping for a reality TV show. He fiancé, and father to her youngest child is one of her biggest supporters. She spends up to $750 a week in groceries, suffers from Type 2 diabetes and has problems with the smallest of tasks such as cooking (the grocery bill should be an incentive) and taking a shower. Good Lord, I huff and puff tying my shoes with my measly extra weight, by comparison, I guess I don’t have it so bad.

At least she has a goal. And a website where fans pay to watch her move about and watch her fat “jiggle” because they adore it and they’ve even taken to sending her food and gift cards to fast food restaurants to help her achieve her goal, though she claims she eats healthy…just a lot. She just doesn’t know if her idea weight can be met what with chasing after a three year old. Her critics warn that her increasing weight can lead to heart problems and worsen her diabetes but she dismisses them with her claim that she is very healthy and that she goes to the doctor every three months. I don’t know, but if I were a patient of that doctor, I might strive for having his medical license taken away.

I was gonna write more, but I think I need to jog around the block and try to sweat off an ounce or two of the unfortunate four pounds I put back on.