Kate Plus 8
This morning, me, my coffee and my breakfast were doing our morning wake-up routine. Email, CNN, little Tweeting and obviously creeping on the Facebook to get the day rolling. I found an article that I’ve been waiting to see for months. Thank Heavens! That scumbag Jon Gosselin is FINALLY leaving Jon and Kate plus 8.
I love this show. I’ve been a fan of it from the beginning and the recent muckraking, whilst heartbreaking when I consider the precious little tots, has engaged my appetite for trashy gossip more than most stories (Competes only with the off-camera goings on of the Gossip Girl and Twilight starlets…swoon). It’s been hard for me not to bring my frequent editorial comments on this story to the blogosphere. But this I can’t ignore.
Why in the world did it take TLC this freaking long to remove him from their network? I was on Team Jon at first, as I believe Kate has a slew of personality flaws herself, but he has done everything possible to disappoint me…and America (boom, Roasted). The womanizing, the ear piercing, the extravagant partying, the global vacations…TRYING TO GIVE AWAY THE DOGS. I hate him. As a rule of thumb, I never trust anyone wearing anything Ed Hardy. I want to boycott him from my consciousness (I wish I had that the power to boycott various things from my consciousness: Miley Cyrus, mayonnaise, various indiscretions, etc.), but sadly I lack that magic. I want the Duggars to host a moral intervention with him. Thats good television.
The funniest part of it all is that now they’ll be calling the show just “Kate plus 8”. This brings me immeasurable giggles.. That woman is dying for a re-branding. Name of the show, hairstyle, snippity personality, come on lady change with the times.
That’s all. Just wanted to weigh in on a nonsense cultural item. If only you all knew how many more I have a brewin’.
Home Sweet Cubicle
I love having the pics of my friends and family. I get to remember how lucky I am to have such class-act homies and all the hallway passersby get to see how fabulous, not to mention good looking, all my loved ones are. Sometimes it makes me miss the prince while I’m at work though. Boo.
For those of you further away from me in the world, here’s a bit about my job. My company, is a communications consulting firm. We produce various materials (brochures, magazines, pamphlets, Web sites, videos, etc.) for other companies. The majority of our work deals with internal HR-related topics. The content can get a little mundane, but the work is good for me. There’s writing, editing and designing to be done – right down my little alley. Only at a communications company would the cubicles be decorated so fervently and the whole office be painted in multi-colors (highly remniscent of a Mexican restaurant). This suits me well.
The people are fabulous too. There is witty banter galore and lots of other Twi-hards for me to discuss the myriad of happenings in Forks with. I’m thrilled to have made a couple friends here. On a similar note, two of my work pals have just gotten puppies of their own: Bailey (at left) and Libby (at right). Libby goes to day care with the prince and they are becoming an item. The new pups give us infinite fodder for conversation. It’s weird to be the expert on something. I kind of like it, even if it’s just puppy raising.
I heart Al Green.
Recently (and I apologize for the Poodleism neglect, I’m a working gal now), I had one of the oddest cultural experiences of my life. Me and manfriend went to an Al Green concert at the Winstar casino. I was scolded for trying to take pictures in the casino, so this was the only snapshot that survived our sojourn. It’s a shame. I’ll try to re-create the ridiculousness in prose.
For those of you who may not be familiar with either:
Al Green is a 70’s-era soul/funk singer. He’s definitely a brother, straight soul and straight sexy. I love his music and I love him. He’s one of my favorites, throwback or present-day. Here’s a pic of him from back in the day:
The Winstar is an Indian casino in Oklahoma. It’s just over the Texas-Oklahoma border, but its far enough over to get a good slice of the culture in Oklahoma. Allowing Indians to run a casino for white-trash people as a concession is an odd idea to me (on another note, I discussed the raw deal we gave the Indians with some of my colleagues the other day. Boo white men and their fire water). The crowd at the Winstar was a real downer. I was comparing it to Vegas, that was a mistake. These people are in costume but aren’t unlike the Winstar patrons. You had a lot of obesity, a lot of smokers, literally-and I counted- 5 men wearing overalls, and a lot of big hair:
The weird part of it all was the Al Green fans in the Indian casino. In the ballroom where the concert was held me and manfriend were 2 of 8 white people in the whole venue. It was awesome. The other patrons were yelling and shakin’ it like only black people really can. I mean that as nothing but the upmost compliment. As soon as the show was over, the whole concert poured back into the heavenly Americana that is an Oklahoman casino just outside the doors. I was poised/excited to see an altercation. No suck luck on the racial scuffle, but there was definitely a strange quiet vibe in the room. It felt like a social experiment. It could’ve been for all I know.
Nonetheless, the concert was amazing, the casino was great people-watching. I don’t know if I’ll be back to the Winstar, or Oklahoma for that matter, but it was something that sent my little observing mind into a whirlwind. I love a good cultural experience. I’m going to call it my educational endeavor for the month.
I think my next such educational endeavor will be a cultural look at the German tradition of Oktoberfest. That will most definitely be in the name of education. .
Learning to speak nerd.
Now that I’m all tech-saavy…I derive immeasurable strife about of having Microsoft Office 2003 on my computer. I can’t do things I need to and it pisses me off bigtime. My friends refer to this antique version as “Ye Olde Office”. Funny joke, but I get re-flustered over this old P.O.S. a few times an hour. Another reminder why I’m a Mac user in my personal time.
This problem exists because my bosses won’t pay to upgrade the whole office and won’t choose who deserves it more than others. This irritates me to no end. A marathon of explitives is exploding in my mind.
That whole rant was to preface a funny clip I want to share (distracted, anyone?) I’m reminded of a hilarious little item from my go-to cultural tidbit source (thanks Stosch for all the fabulousness). I should just stand back and be proud of what we’ve accomplished in the computer world, not curse the day Bill Gates was born and contribute to my own visible signs of aging by letting it affect me so much. Too bad I’m not that big of a person. Enjoy one of my favorite items below:
Kinky? More like AWESOME.
Despite my love for all the debauchery involved, it is rare that I find myself in a true nightclub. I love the music, the dancing, the inability to have a conversation, the men in their queer-ish ‘clubbin’ clothes – all of it. The sucky part is that I could throw on my ‘clubbin’ clothes (requisite short dress and on-the-verge-of-prostitue high heels) and go every weekend, but the company I keep…manfriend…isn’t into it. Sigh.
Lucky for me, one of my all-time BFFs made her way to the metroplex to visit me and the prince. She’s one of my favorite partners for debaucherizing and the opportunity arose to go to a fine establishment here in Dallas called Kinky’s. I think it’s named that because it’s intended to be sexual fetish themed. Kind of awkward, but it’s also just the kind of shamelessly trashy thing that amounts to loads of fun for me. I’d been once before and couldn’t wait to go back (I still can’t wait to go yet again). We strapped on the whore shoes and headed to Kinky’s. We saw this:
It is a grown, full-size man crawling on the ground, wearing a saddle with a skanky cocktail waitress riding him like it’s her job. Wait, it is her job. Weird. This pic doesn't do the poor man justice. There are lots of strange things to be said about this, but the strangest part of all was that they were just meandering the crowd like they owned the place. For all I know, the did own the place. She didn’t speak to people, or acknowledge the sideways glances, she just continued riding around doing sexual things with her face. It was very dark, loud, and crowded. Whatever they’re paying this man, it’s not enough. Gotta find another nightclub, but can't imagine it will be better.
This was another miscellaneous item that was just too strange not to share (sidenote: I have a feeling that oddities of all sorts will find their way to Poodleism as I’m still experimenting with my “blogger voice”). All things considered, I had a super fun night/weekend and was so glad my pal came to visit me in my new Dallas home. To any of the rest of you out there: (Sarah, Andrea, Jenny, Robin, Booger…I’m talking to you.) come on down. I can’t promise a freakish encounter such as this, but dammit I’ll try. Here’s some snapshots of us enjoying the kinkiness:
Note: Smiley picture is posed. The clear amazement on Lori's face in the second one more truly reflects our expressions during our time at Kinky's
More: Manfriend is really grossed out. Get enough cocktails in him and Kinky's will happen. The man dancing in the other picture was in our entourage. Gotta give him some props, the kid can break-it down...but Lori might not be having it. Also very indicative of how the whole night went. Hehehhehe. I heart Kinky's.
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