Dumpster Diving

Emily:  "Grandpa, why don't you go to the gym like other grandpas do?"

Grandpa Thor:  "Because nothing speeds up my metabolism like deep inhale of dumpster vapors before breakfast."


photos found here

Gazing At Elizabeth's Navel

Miss Elizabeth Gilbert has changed a lot of lives and made a lot of women hungry for Italian food with her introspective book "Eat, Pray Love"*.  This book is so introspective that after reading it you have automatically qualified for a Doctorate in Elizabethan Gilbertology** at the University of Phoenix.

**Available for $99.99 in three easy installments, suitable for framing

Since you can't afford to take a year off, I would like to offer you, my dear readers, an abbreviated version of the Elizabethan journey.  In fact, it only takes a day and you don't need a passport and the psychic damage connected with obtaining a passport photo that doesn't look like you at all but like a distant relative with a haunting past and a bad haircut.  Plus, it will cost you less than a ticket to a boring movie.  (See above*)


First...                   

 EAT

Start out with a nice stack of blueberry pancakes and butter syrup, two slices of bacon and a tall beverage of your choice.  Then go back to your unmade bed and sleep for a while because whoa boy, pancakes sure can make you sleepy.  When you are suitably refreshed, you are ready for the next step

                              
 

PRAY

Sit on the floor in the kindergarten position; the one where you twist your legs into a pretzel shape because your teacher won't let you go to the bathroom until recess.  Now sit up straight, now relax, no, I said sit up straight, now relax, oh forget it just close your eyes and empty out your mind.  Imagine a tiny dustbuster sucking around inside your cranium, vacuuming out the earwax, memories of that time you threw up on Patty Sims in the grade school cafeteria, guilt about that...shhhluuuuup all those dusty thoughts are getting sucked into the miniature ...  Okay, so this is not going to work.  Get in your car and drive to the dollar store where you can buy 6 sticks of incense for $1.  Drive home, light one up, wave it around with your eyes closed until you can't stand it anymore, douse it in the sink and go take another nap.

                                   

LOVE 

Go call your mother and tell her you love her for teaching you to pull up your big girl panties and quit worrying about yourself.  Then go take another nap.
  

The Fine Art of Gift Giving

My dear readers,

It has come to my attention that most of you are extremely cheap frugal, which is oh so stylish this year.  When it comes to gift giving you like to avoid driving to the store and wandering around aimlessly while you could be watching your treasured tivoed episodes of So You Think You Can Dance and eating chocolate moose track ice cream straight out of the carton protect the world's resources.

As usual, I can offer you the miserly ideal solution because I, like you am trying to carve enough out of the grocery budget to sneak in a pedicure live more "simply".


When a gift giving occasion arises, why not scrounge around your house and yard utilize your current inventory.  Ordinary objects, if  accompanied with a notecard full of crap imbued with enough mystique will be sure to please the most  critical and whiny discerning giftee.

Because you are as steadfast as this

beautiful polished stone, please accept

it as a token of my respect 

 

This lovely leaf drifted

through the air

and reminded me

of the way your mind works 

You are still

beautiful

even though your

skin is getting 

a 

little crunchy

(For a potential love interest)

You

are soft,

you smell good

and  baby,

you are 

highly flammable

I 

am so empty

when you're

not around.

un angelito en la mano

 There was as very small part of Eduardo that believed in peace, 

but the biggest part of him 

usually ended up beating the snot out of people.

Eduardo found here

Barbie Barbarity

WARNING!!!

Images that follow are extremely graphic

Cover your children's eyes if they have never
been exposed to Sponge Bob Square Pants

Detective Ken shook his head as he watched his new rookie losing his cookies in the bushes in front of the neatly groomed front yard.  Not that he didn't feel a bit queasy himself, Krispy Kreme chunks rolling around on an uneasy sea of iced latte in his stomach.  Yeah, it was a mess in there alright.

The call had come at 9:27 p.m., a frantic 911 from a pink Barbie phone, but by the time they got there it was too late.  This little lady was never going to make it to the Miss America pageant, never going to be an astronaut or bull fighter.  Her chance to wear that sweet white coat with the stethoscope draped around her elegant long neck or that gold prima donna ballerina outfit with the spangles... that was gone baby gone.

What had she done to provoke these two monsters?  Was it her flowing blonde mane that waved at them like a red flag?  Was it a sideways glance from those mesmerizing eyes, a flash of too much skin?  What?

Detective Ken barked at the rookie "Go get a statement and this time, make 'em talk.  Tell them we need more than whimpers."  The rookie wiped a trembling hand down his face and went up the steps.  Detective Ken took out the photos from the surveillance camera and took a deep breath.

 

It was going to be a long night.

Dressing for Failure

After my shower I carefully blow dried my hair into shiny curves.  I take time with my makeup, smoothing on concealer to cover the bluish shadows under each eye, patting on foundation with gentle fingers, brushing soft mineral powder.  Mouth open, I swoop on mascara, brushing out the clumps, right eye staring back at me

It has been a year since I've seen her and I am going to be ready this time.  Last August I had been caught unaware, unprepared for the inscrutable gaze, the cool appraising glance.


I dress thoughtfully, pulling on a slimming pair of long shorts and a blue shirt that fits perfectly.  I buckle on sandals with heels, leaving my usual comfortable flats on the closet floor.  Earrings, a simple necklace and I am ready. 


An hour later I hand the armful of clothes to the dressing room attendant in Nordstrom's Rack.  She is a study in black; black hair, eyeliner, leggings, mini, cardigan and boots.  In a mood to match her outfit she counts and roughly thrusts my stack back at me.  "Bring them back on hangers and don't forget your number".


I close the dressing room door and carefully hang each piece on a silver hook.  I put down my purse and cross both arms to pull my blue shirt over my head, turning toward the mirror.  The shirt rakes through my carefully casual hair.  My upper arms tremble in the breeeze of the air conditioner as I meet her harsh gaze.  

So, we meet again, my cool sphinx, my nemesis.

My beautiful blue shirt looks garish and cheap.  My long slimming shorts seem to have inflated like a pool toy, wider than they are long.  My carefully applied mascara has traveled south,  racoonish circles smudged around bloodshot eyes. I smile weakly, shyly, trying to coax a little warmth from the silver surface. Her cold reflection only catalogues my failings, snaky blue veins crawling around my legs, pouchy, slouchy patches, wrinkles and shadows and dents and...

"Knock it off you freak!"   I pull back on my pathetic outfit, grab my purse and fumble with the latch.  As I rush past the black guard with earring in her nose she steps back without protest.  Ha!  I didn't even give her back her number.  Take that bride of dracula!


Later, as I drown my sorrows in Jamba Juice I vow that it is really over this time.  I am through with dressing room mirrors and leftover klieg lights from WWII interrogation rooms.  I will no longer be pilloried on Nordstrom's rack.

From now on I'm shopping online.

Vintage Vittles

I'm far too lazy to redecorate my kitchen

  

But

Joey certainly looked 

better

after

I gave him and his lunch a nice fresh coat of white paint.

Lactation Education

In an interview with Harper’s Bazaar UK — which hits newsstands today — Gisele Bundchen gushes about her superior parenting skills since giving birth to son Benjamin, now 7 months old. The 30-year-old Gisele preaches: “Some people here think they don’t have to breastfeed, and I think, ‘Are you going to give chemical food to your child, when they are so little?’ There should be a worldwide law, in my opinion, that mothers should breastfeed their babies for six months.”

In a related development

ASPEN, Colo. — Charlie Sheen pleaded guilty Monday to assault in a Christmas Day argument with his wife in exchange for the withdrawal of more serious charges.

Sheen, star of "Two and a Half Men" on CBS, was sentenced to 30 days in a rehabilitation center, 30 days of probation and 36 hours of anger management. He has 30 days to report to the Promises Treatment Center in California.


Sheen exited the Pitkin County Courthouse waving and blowing kisses to the crowd outside and flashing a peace sign.  In solidarity with Gisele Bundchen, he promised "... Even though the judge did not assign community service as part of my sentence, I pledge to do it anyway as I support Gisele Bundchen's worthy breastfeeding campaign.  I  will not rest until I educate every American women about breast feeding; whether they are lactating or not.  I also pledge to enforce natural milk consumption on every American infant.  It is the least I can do to pay my debt to society."

Ask Dr. Bogus

Ask Dr. Bogus: A Hypochondriac's Guide to Wellness: Part Two

 For our second segment, we turn to Dr. Bogus' helpful assistant, Veldon Krump.


Me:  Veldon, what makes you qualified to speak on behalf of Dr. Bogus?  Are you a highly trained Naturohomeohypopathic like he is?


Veldon:  Actually no, at this point in my internship I have only reached the "Naturohomeo" stage.  After an additional week of music therapy on anemic gerbils, I will qualify under the hypopathic section...if I pass the true or false quiz.


Me:  Impressive.  So Dr.-in-training-Krump, shall we get started with reader questions?


Veldon:  Just a moment while I take this call from my mother.


(One hour and three emotional outbursts later)

Veldon:  Where were we?  (blowing nose)

Me:  Let's start with a reader inquiry about hair loss.  What can be done to prevent it, or restore lost hair?


Veldon:  Uh, I would say...maybe you could.  (Scratching scalp through afro with a razor sharp fingernail).  Uh, I'll have to get back to you on that one.  Can't say that it's ever been a problem for me and Dr. Bogus.


Me:  Next question, and it is multisymptomatic.  What is the cure for general lethargy, inertia and skin tags?


Veldon:  Oh golly, now that is a fat softball pitch if I ever saw one.  The cure to all three conditions is diet coke.  Injesting 44 ozs. of the aforementioned liquid will cure the lethargy and inertia and soaking the skin tag area in the aforementioned liquid will dissolve a problem skin tag after only three half hour treatments.


Me:  Any tips about general dental health?


Veldon:  Don't lose your baby teeth.  You'll never be that cute again.


Me:  And finally, is there any cure for bad dreams that will also promote weight loss?


Veldon:  I find that going to the bathroom generally solves both problems.  Now if you'll excuse me,  Mother needs her feet rubbed.

Veldon and his Mother can also be found here

The Naturohomeohypopathic Guide to Wellness

I know that you, my dear readers have been feeling a little left out because of the dearth of medical information on Larainy Days.  Well, that is about to change as I introduce a new feature called

Ask Dr. Bogus*: A Hypochondriac's Guide to Wellness

Rupert, a nail technician from Las Vegas asks:

Rupert:  Is there a natural depilatory for underarm hair?  I relish my natural hirsuteness, but could do without the tangle in my pits.

Dr. Bogus:  First of all Rupert, I applaud your desire to seek a natural solution to your deforestation dilemma.  You obviously have a big job ahead!  I recommend the following protocol:

• Using that marvelous hiking stick, climb to a high mountain meadow 
• Take off that darling tie dyed piece of artistic brilliance you call a t-shirt
• Swab each underarm with a thick layer of organic honey
• Lie back, spread out your arms and let those busy little ants do their work

Rupert, if you're ticklish you may need to use all your powers of concentration to take you to a happy place while those busy ants are nibbling away at your problem area with their razor sharp mandibles, but when your underarms are hair and honey free you will feel like a new man.

Do you have a question for Dr. Bogus?



*Dr. Bogus is not licensed to practice anywhere but that doesn't stop him from solving problems

Rupert can be found  here