What the??

Ok. It's been a year since I've written a new post. It's not that my life hasn't had intriguing moments in the past year (it has!), it's just that I haven't had the time or seriously, the inclination to do so. I really need to get back to the business of the old blog. So, this weekend I will try to squeeze in the time for a post or two. Promise. Cross my heart. Well...we'll see. :o)

Vanishing act

This is a clip from Hee Haw, a foggy, cobweb filled memory from my childhood. I really don't remember watching that much Hee Haw - but this song sticks in my head like crazy glue.

The best part is the "phht you was gone".

Twitter'd out

Social media is making me feel rather antisocial at the moment.

I got up this morning and logged on to Face Book. Then I checked out what was going on in the Twitterverse. When I got to work, I fired up Outlook and then signed on to AIM. It’s not that I have a problem with all the different ways that we have to communicate with each other – I like them all just fine. I like Face Book for reconnecting with old friends, AIM is an awesome way to communicate at work in a jiffy, email is a necessary evil, and Twitter is, well – Twitter. Most of the tweets I see are random thoughts – blips on the radar that are fleeting at best. It’s a fun way to link to other media that you think your followers would like, but then again, so is Face Book for that matter. But for some reason, on Twitter people tend to tweet the same (mostly snarky) minutia over and over and over again. I am so sick of seeing tweets about:

1. Your workout / exercise routine. Yes, you’re active and fit. We get it. Only you and your trainer are impressed. And that's because you pay him/her.

2. What you are currently listening to. Did you hear something new? Great! Please share. Something inspiring or beautiful? Share that, too. But posting tweet after tweet after tweet that read “I’m listening to Snoop Dogg’s Gin and Juice” “I’m listening to Otis Redding’s Try A Little Tenderness” is just repetitive and boring. And honestly, nobody cares.

3. Same goes for television shows. What’s with the tweets that are just your personal television viewing chronology? “BSmith just watched Mad Men”? (Or whatever other “in” thing you’re watching because you think it makes you look cool). Guess what? It doesn’t and you’re still a douche nozzle.

4. What you’re eating. No one cares. And I don’t want to see a picture of it, either. If I want to know what your lunch was, I will ask.

5. Tweeting that you are eating fattening foods while watching The Biggest Loser. Yeah, this was funny the first 100 times I read it. Considering that 66% of Americans regularly watch television while eating dinner (thank you, A.C. Nielsen) I think the chances are high that they aren’t all eating carrot sticks and cottage cheese - yet you’re obviously thrilled with your amazing, ironic wit. I drink beer while I watch Intervention. It doesn’t make me Jerry Seinfeld.

6. Something your dog did. Unless he taught himself to drive, got a job at NASA and landed a lunar probe – yawn.

7. Same goes for your cat. (Numbers 6 and 7 do not include the adoption of, or the passing of a pet. Those are different and are definitely tweetable.)

8. I hate to say it, same goes for your kid. Yes, you love him. Your family loves him. Everyone else in the world, not so much.

9. “I have the best boyfriend / girlfriend / stalker in the whole wide world!” Gag. ‘Nuff said.

10. “Is”. As in “BSmith is”. Do you think you're being all existential and hip? You’re not. You’re just being a dipshit.

Yeah, that’s pretty much the list for now. I know there will be more to come. Too bad I can’t tweet this entire post (way more than 140 characters), because it certainly is snarky enough to live out there amongst all the other snarky tweets. I’m going to blame today's outlook on a lack of sunlight. Maybe I need to eat some pistachio nuts, drink a diet Pepsi, listen to Jim Croce's Bad Bad Leroy Brown and watch my cats wrestle. Yeah, that should work.

Happy tweeting! :o)

Luck be a lady?

I was sitting in traffic this afternoon on my way home from work - it was at a stand still heading west (the direction I was going) while the eastbound lane was free and clear. As I sat there waiting to move, I was watching two squirrels on the side of the road. They were running and each one had something acorn-like in their mouths, and then suddenly the bigger of the two squirrels decided that he was going to make a break for it and run to the other side of the road. He ran right in front of my car, and as he did a car came speeding down the eastbound lane and I was sure the little guy was toast. In fact, as I saw him leap up the curb, I couldn't believe he made it. I thought “what a lucky frickin squirrel, he should have bought the farm”. Then I began thinking about the concept of luck, and how it pertains to everyone (even crazed squirrels). I mean, some people (like me) believe that luck is a random thing - like a wild bolt of lightning that you can’t predict. Other people believe that you make your own luck; that your outlook and personal choices reflect what gets presented to you. Actually, upon further pondering, I believe it’s probably a combination of the two. Which brought me to another thought. In 2005, my husband Charlie and I went on a trip to Las Vegas - luck capital of the world - and had an interesting run in with luck.

We were going to be in Las Vegas for five days. We already had two under our belts, and as per usual, Charlie had mad luck for those two days. He was up at least a grand. Me - not so much. So we decided to put the bets on hold for a night. It was a Saturday and we decided to go to the Ellis Island for a little cold beer and karaoke. If you haven’t heard of the Ellis Island, don’t worry. It’s a locals haunt and it’s a tiny hole in the wall attached to a Super 8 Motel off the strip on Koval Lane. It’s wonderfully dark and oh so old Vegas, but they have a phenomenal karaoke show and the people who sing karaoke in Las Vegas are some of the most talented singers I have ever heard, bar none.

Anyhoo, we were filling out our request slips and Charlie kept looking at this very tall, distinguished looking man in one of the booths. He kept saying that he looked familiar. The dude didn’t look familiar to me at all. So after about ten minutes, Charlie tells me that the guy looks like Granville Waiters. Now, I knew who Granville Waiters was because he played for the Chicago Bulls when I was in high school. I couldn't have picked him out of a lineup, but I remembered his name because my dad had taken me to a couple of Bulls games when I was in high school. The Bulls really stunk back then (pre Michael Jordan) but they were winning the game Dad and I went to. And back then, Waiters basically sat on the bench each and every game. But when the Bulls would actually pull ahead by a significant amount, the crowd would start to chant “Graaaaaaaaaanville, Graaaaaaaanville….” and eventually they would put him in the game.

So the DJ at Ellis Island decided to do what he called “Kamikaze Karaoke”, where he would call up five or so singers, pick a song of his choosing and make them all sing together. Charlie got called up on stage, and so did Shorty (the Granville look-alike). Everyone was laughing and commenting on their bad rendition of We are Family and I leaned over to Shorty’s friends and told them that my husband thought he looked like Granville Waiters. With the widest eyes I have ever seen, they told me that, yes, that’s Granny (as they called him). His friends seemed taken aback that anyone would even recognize him. However they were very sweet when they asked if Charlie would like an autograph (to which I replied “ARE YOU KIDDING? OF COURSE!) After the guys were done singing, Charlie got his autograph and had a really nice conversation with Granville. (Who couldn't have been more gracious, by the way). Later in the evening after we were all sung out, we said goodnight to Granville Waiters and his friends and went back to our hotel.

The next day we laughed about our night and thought it was one of the oddest Las Vegas moments we had experienced (except for the night Charlie got propositioned by a hooker at the Hard Rock). But we soon discovered that another thing had happened that night. Charlie’s luck ran out. From that moment on, he couldn't catch a cold let alone a break. As his winnings dwindled for the remaining days, he came to the only conclusion there was. Granville Waiters stole his luck.

My luck remained the same - in the crapper - for the entire trip until the last night. Every trip to Las Vegas we ever had ended the same way with our famous “last night luck”. Together, we hit a $1.00 Wheel of Fortune machine for $1,000.00. A nice little amount to go home with.

So do I believe that luck is as random as lightning or do we make our own luck? I’m still not sure about that one. But I am sure that if you have some luck, stay away from Granville Waiters. He’ll steal it.

So goes life, so goes the truck

I saw this on The People of Wal-Mart. Classic.

I Guess Mommy Got The Truck

Punk'd

I think everyone has been to a wedding where as the best man gives his toast to the newly married couple, hijinks ensue. When my friend Val got married in the 1980's, the best man punked the groom by telling a story about how the groom had borrowed the best man's keys to his apartment and wanted them back. As the story unraveled, supposedly the groom had copied the keys and given them to a young lady. With that, 30 or so women all got up to "return" the copied key. The last lady had to be at least 80 years old.

Now, it's much easier to punk the groom, especially if you have mad Photoshop skills. Check out the video below. It's the video montage that played at a couple's wedding, created by one of the groomsmen at the request of the groom. The only instruction given to the groomsman was to make the video "different" - the groom said he didn't even want to review it first.

So this is what Ben and Joanna got from their friend, Adam. I take it Joanna has a good sense of humor. If this happened on Bridezillas, there would have been blood.

Best Wedding Slideshow Ever from Olde English Comedy on Vimeo.

Oh look, a giant loser

I don't know how I missed this one, but this selfish douche cheated on his wife and this is what she made him do to repent. I have a feeling it won't be the last uncomfortable humiliation he will experience at her hand. You can see the article here. Personally, I hope his privates wither up and fall off, yet he walks around for the rest of his life with a phantom boner that he can never, ever satisfy.

A case of anal warts would be good, too.

The candy man cometh

If you are in the area of Michigan Avenue between Illinois and Wacker Drive tomorrow, stop by Pioneer Plaza (in front of 401 Michigan Avenue). Mars Snackfood, the makers of M & M's, Snickers, Milky Way, Twix, Dove and 3 Musketeers will be giving away free samples of its candies. Why, you ask? It seems that Mars did a survey to find out which American city is in need of a little chocolate joy, and Chicago won.

And if you like NASCAR, get your sugar fix and racing fix at the same time because Kyle Bush will be handing out the sweet samples.

Yummy!

UPDATE: The bags of candy that my coworkers got yesterday from the Mars giveaway were obscene! I assumed that they would be handing out mini candy bars and just a few to each person. So wrong! They were passing out full size candy bars, and the folks passing it out were just loading up people's bags. Seriously, some people were walking away with two big plastic bags full of candy. I guess they're set for Halloween.

Unfortunately, I did not get over there to witness it. Being glucosely challenged (yes, I do realize that glucosely isn't really a word), I figured I'd stay here and work as opposed to a trip to Northwestern in a sugar coma.

Word of the day! vol. 2

Calumnious - ca·lum·ni·ous adj.

Containing or implying calumny; slanderous or defamatory. Used of statements harmful and often untrue; tending to discredit or malign.


Use it in a sentence, today!

Stuck in 1985

I have had a song stuck in my head since yesterday. It got there while I was walking through Walgreens and heard it on the piped in music. First of all, how sad is it when songs of your youth wind up as Walgreens white noise? Or you stumble across one on the oldies channel? It's that slap in the face that says "Hey dummy! Yes...you ARE middle aged". I'm not bothered by the fact that I'm 42, because I don't feel like it. But then I watched the video below (for the aforementioned stuck song)and just thought....HOLY CRAP. People used to look like this a long, long time ago. 24 years ago to be exact. Geritol, anyone?

So enjoy the trip down memory lane. If the song gets stuck in your head too, don't blame me. Its 1980's hooky goodness is to blame.

(Love the side ponytail, by the way.)

Bad day

This guy is having a really bad day.

New links! New links!

While hopping around the Internet recently, I came across this delicious site, Passive Aggressive Notes.com. I bet there's a member of my immediate family who could fill that site with enough submissions for a month.

Passive Aggressive Notes looks like it could be as addictive as my most recent find, The Summer of Benny. (Who I would love to meet, btw). Any blog that has the expression "mushroom stamp" in it is alright in my book.

Check 'em both out. Don't say I didn't warn you.

It's a wonder that anyone got laid in the 80's

Make sure you check out the guy wearing the pelt and Viking hat. Rrrrrow!


Dating Montage
Uploaded by smithy00101. - Independent web videos.

Meanest. Song. Ever.

Word of the day!

I thought it would be fun if every so often I post a word of the day. I love finding new words, or words that I don't use that often and trying to work them into daily conversation. So, my first WOTD entry is:

Malignity - 1) quality of being disposed to evil; intense ill will, and 2) wishing evil to others

There's today's word - use it in a sentence today!

It's Not My Birthday

Yesterday we celebrated my sister's 36th birthday. Of course we had her favorite birthday dinner, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans. Mom cooked the whole thing and it was delish.

So I took a few pictures of our day and of the kids, too. My nephew Niall must have been playing with his ball of fungus, because I don't have any of him. (Yes, he really has a ball of fungus - basically a large puffy mushroom thing he got from his other grandma's back yard - it's about the size of a volleyball).

My sister's birthday always marks the end of summer for me. As I was driving home from her house last night I couldn't believe that it was dark by 7:00 pm. Fall is almost here and then it will be winter. My birthday is in the winter. In fact, I can't even imagine having a birthday that didn't contain a Christmas tree, cold weather, sweaters and Christmas carols. Most years, my family was putting up the Christmas tree on my birthday weekend - so birthdays with outdoor picnics, water slides and bugs really seem out of place to me.

Even my parents birthdays are cold weather birthdays. My father's birthday is in November and my mother's is in March. For the longest time only my sister had a warm weather birthday. Then she started making people of her own, and had my nephew in July. (Her other two are February and March - keeping with tradition!)

Anywho, here's a few of the pictures (click to enlarge) from her day. Happy birthday, Eisenhower!

Mom, Dad and Britt - Mom and Dad have a funny look on their faces because just as I snapped this picture, a glass behind them tumbled off the counter and smashed to the ground.

This is the fabulous Stella getting ready to be fabulously cranky

And here is Stella again wearing home grown tomato seeds on her face.

And I can't forget the Divine Miss Em.

The Oprahcalypse

Here are some pictures I took throughout Oprah Day in the loop. Note the Port-A-Potties in the middle of Michigan Avenue. That's class, Mayor Daley, pure class. Click on each image to enlarge.

Oh no Ms. O

Tomorrow is gonna stink on ice.

The abominable Oprah Winfrey is taking over Michigan Avenue. The very avenue that I work on. She's filming her season opener in the heart of the city tomorrow and is shutting down roughly three blocks of the Mag Mile because, well....she can. She's Oprah.

They blocked off Michigan between Ohio and Wacker Drive today, and it will remain like that through Wednesday AM. If you're not from Chicago, you have no idea how enormous that is. You can check out the map, here. The street in front of my building will be completely blocked off to traffic, to allow for all the Iowans and housewives who will fill the street all a twitter. And the city says they are going to keep people off the sidewalks, unless of course, there are so many people that the street can't handle it. I have also heard that those of us coming and going on Boul Mich will be subject to security checks. SECURITY CHECKS. While I go get my lunch from Subway I will be subject to search? Nice. All for Ms. O.

Mike Royko couldn't have pulled this off. Hell, Phil Donohue couldn't have pulled this off. For that matter, there's no way in hell Daley would have allowed this for Dan Akroyd, John Belushi, any of the Cusacks and Kanye West combined.

But Oprah, Ms. Winfrey, please feel free to fuck up the city at your will.

I will post pictures of the debacle tomorrow. I'm sure there's going to be plenty of plaid shorts, gaping mouths and fanny packs.

To be continued....

Overheard on the train today

She: I need money.

He: Yeah?

She: I don't have any money. I just realized I
have none.

He: You should never walk around with less
that fifteen-hundred

.
I gotta get some new friends.

Love Rollercoaster

Today is our annual company picnic at Six Flags Great America. It's an event that people at work really look forward to; and a fun family day altogether.

However, it's going to be 90 degrees out today, and sunny. I know, I know - there's a lot of you out there that wait for and love summer scorchers. I just can't get behind that.

First, I'm white - and I just don't mean that I'm not black or Asian or Hispanic - I mean I'm so white that I'm practically see-through. I have inherited my father's blindingly white Irish skin, which burns to a crisp at the mere thought of going into the sun for a day. The best I can hope for is freckles. My father has so many freckles that they have all blended together and he actually looks tan.

Secondly, I hate to be sweaty. 90 degrees and humid guarantees sweat. And I'm going to be in large crowds all day and they'll be sweating. I guarantee I will be thrust into a melange of body odors that will make my eyes water. Good times.

Third, they don't sell beer at the park. 'Nuff said.

Last, I'm afraid of roller coasters. This wasn't always the case. I LOVED them as a kid. Even into my early 20's. I don't know what happened between 21 and 38, but I became terrified of coasters. The last time I went to Great America, I couldn't wait to get on The Eagle. We waiting in line for about 40 minutes and then got on. The coaster started up the first (and biggest) incline and immediately I knew this was a huge mistake. But there was nothing I could do. Up, up, up we went - as my stomach climbed higher and higher into my throat. Then we reached the top, where the coaster stalls for just a second so you can get a really good look at how high you are........and then plummets. I seriously thought I was going to go into cardiac arrest. I buried my face into my husband's shoulder and waited to die. Really.

So, I'm off to the amusement park today. I don't think I'm going to be very amused. I feel sorry for my mom and my sister. When I'm hot and sweaty, I can be a royal bitch. I know, it's hard to imagine, isn't it?

Wish me luck.