Snakes Alive!

YIKES. Snakes Alive!
Run for the hills. Or the Door.

An Egyptian cobra was discovered missing from the World of Reptiles Exhibit at the Bronx Zoo last Friday. The building will remain closed until the snake can be found. Good Plan, Captain Obvious.

When the snake feels hungry and secure enough to look for food, it will move around. So the Zooey-ologists are trying to entice it with a vermin's favorite food. A Double Cheeseburger with Bacon? No, Silly...a MOUSE. Snakes are smarter than that. They know a mouse contains fewer calories and fat.

Finding the 20 inch snake will not been easy. It's not easy to catch a snake in a building...let alone a snake in the grass. It stays low and slithers around on its underbelly...but every now and then, it rears its head...and BAM...it gets hit with a golf club. Ala the Tiger Woods snake in the grass. Hey, there is more than one way to catch a snake.

Anywhoooooooo.................

There was another snake in the news a couple of weeks ago. During a photo shoot in the UK, an Israeli model was bit in her breast. Luckily a man was brave enough to pull the snake off her. The model was okay...but the snake died...of silicone poisoning from her enhanced breasts. Yowser. What a way to go.

I saw a picture of the model...and I just know...the Tiger Woods snake in the grass probably would have grabbed onto that very same spot. And you can be sure, he wouldn't have let go...until Elin pulled him off. All snakes are alike.

Most people are deathly afraid of snakes...which is a real phobia called Ophidiophobia. They get anxiety from even a picture of a snake...let alone draping one on your body and canoodling with it. WTH?

Should you have Ophidiophobia...I propose 3 great ways to protect yourself from snakes.

1. Stay away from the Bronx Zoo.
2. Don't date Tiger Woods.
3. Get LARGE silicone implants.

Orchard of Questions...Why?

Whhhy?
Why do I like to blog?
Whyyyyy, Why Me?

Could my blogging tendency mean that I'm...?
Possessed? Repressed? Obsessed?

When the blogging urge hits...I sit down at the computer, type like a wild katwoman, and then fix the typos. Otherwise it would look like: Fro soem reson I lik to bolg. You might be able to read pig latin, but why should you? You deserve better than that. ixnay upidstay.

I can't help myself with this blogging addiction. I haven't found a way to break the cycle. It really is just as much of an addiction as some people have with...alchohol, drugs, food, and shoes. Just add it to the list. Sex addicts got nothing on me.

Maybe there is a distinct reason as to why I like to blog. Maybe looking at my roots would help to show why I roll the way I do. But usually looking at my roots helps to show my age, requiring a mandatory trip to the hairdresser.

Biologically, I've passed this blogging tendency on to my children. I'm not a geneticist, but I believe the blogging gene isn't carried on the Y chromosome. Colinboy has not been pulled into the blogging abyss. He would rather jam than blog.

They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. My girls, Apple 1 and Apple 2, have been bitten by the blogging worm and are only a few seed spits from a full out addiction...especially Apple 1 (Big C). (Stay with me here...I will give you give extra credit later.) It's just Colinboy who has had the strength to resist temptation and disrupt the blogging cart.

Chelsea's blog is flourishing at: Chelseacoleen.blogspot.com
Brianna's blog is thriving at s0undtrack0fmylife.blogspot.com

Anywhoooooooooo...........

I usually have my head in blogworld. If I'm not writing a blog, I'm thinking about writing one. PaulA tells me that I would have NO trouble "doing time"...just as long as I had my computer with me. Now there's a thought.

PaulA might be onto something (on something?) Hmmm...What can I do to get myself into a cozy 8 x 8 cell for a few months...but, nothing too wicked so they throw away the key.

I wouldn't want to be locked up forever, just enough time to get the juices flowing. Think of the material I would get from a little slammer time.

DWD...Driving While Distracted

We've all driven behind someone who is driving erratically...someone who is weaving in and out of lanes or making wide turns. (Maybe that's YOU, I'm behind.) You can bet that person is distracted by something.

Some states ticket you for cell phone use while driving...but there are far more distractions that are less obvious: a ham sandwich, can of Red Bull, cigarettes, an iPod, the mirror. These are the times when we are fidgeting, tinkering, eating, and primping.

The police could be kept quite busy giving out tickets to drivers for DWD...Driving While Distracted. But not all distractions are easy to identify. My most frequent distraction has more to do with my mental state. (Careful now.) I can be simply...lost in thought. That's when I depend on my autopilot to take the wheel.

I can be driving down the road to do an errand...but thinking of something else (probably my next blog) and my autopilot suddenly takes over. Someday you will have to meet Jen, my automatic pilot.

Anywhooooooooooooooo................

We've all driven on autopilot...when after you've driven for a period of time, you arrive at your destination and you have no earthly idea how you got there. It's like you've had temporary amnesia...with no memory of the trip.

But for some reason, whenever I experience temporary amnesia...I find myself at the Post Office. I often frequent the Post Office...so maybe that's why Jen takes me there. She's an excellent driver, but not always the best with direction. I need to set up a meeting with Jen and address this situation, before I go postal on her.

Hey, seeing I'm at the Post Office...I might as well mail-in this lame blog.

Lady Luck

Las Vegas has not been kind to me. Actually it’s the casino that’s been killing me. But that would never stop this Kat. I have 9 lives.

The roulette table was my first nemesis. Roulette means “little wheel” in French, and coincidently I was speaking a little French when my g** d** numbers didn’t show up on that *!* little wheel.

Although the French make a nice plate of crap...like I said, crepe...their wheel didn’t make nice with me. With every spin…Vanna took away my chips, until I was left chip-less. Sometimes it’s best to know when to walk away …know when to run.

8 lives to go.

Anywhooooooooooooo………………………

I decided to try my luck with the one-armed Bandito. The Mexican Slot. It was 10 AM and as luck would have it…PaulA was off at a meeting. PaulA wouldn't have to know about my dealings with the Bandito.

It was interesting to see what folks have their asses planted on a casino seat at 10 AM. Makes you wonder if they were leftovers from the night before. Maybe someone should be in-charge of throwing out the leftovers, like removing spoiled sausage from the frig. Gamblers can be quite rank at that hour…after a night of booze, smoke, and tears.

So what was I doing in the casino at 10 am? Well…Momma needs a new pair of Jimmy Choo's. Why not try my hand at Lady Luck? Just as long as the Lady doesn't bite me in the hand. Question to self: Why do they call Luck a Lady, anyway?

Let me just say…slot machines are as cranky as the rest of us in the morning. Probably hung over from the night before when their parts were worked over. I couldn’t get much going…so I resorted to Musical Slot Machine Chairs.

One slot machine I sat at never made a sound. It was quiet as a church mouse. If I closed my eyes I could have been seated in a St. Ann's pew…but the leftovers next to me reminded me I was seated in Sin City. I wasn’t long in that seat. If I’m going to keep losing, at least give me some freaking bells and whistles.

When you “cash out” …the slots make clamourous sounds of money emptying out into a coin tray…like you just hit the JACKPOT. When I “cashed out” …the lights flashed, bells dinged, sirens whirrled…and printed out my ticket…..$2.50.
No Big Kitty coming to Kat.

7 lives to go.

It’s 10 AM. PaulA, do you know where your wife is?

In It...to Win It

Do you play computer games against people you don’t know? I normally don’t engage in games with people I’ve never met. One exception: I play against strangers...in a game of “I’ll Beat Your Ass” for a seat on Southwest Airlines.

If you don’t care where your ass ends up... you probably don’t play the game. But if you do care...like this Kat...you are right there battling it out in cyberspace with strangers...fighting tooth and nail...to pull a low boarding pass number.

You are in it...to win it.

If you are a playa...you know how the Southwest game is played. Exactly 24 hours before your scheduled flight...you log on to Southwest.com and print your boarding pass...which also gives you your group (A,B,C) and number to board the plane.

The A group (The Achiever Group) is for winners. (duh) The B group (The Blah Group) is loserVille. The C group (The Crappy Group) ...need I say more?

Anywhooooooooooooooo..................................

This is how my last game on Southwest.com was played......

T Minus 30 minutes... I feel the pressure mounting so I shake out my jitters with a few jumping jacks. I check my clicker to make sure it’s working.

T Minus 15 minutes...I pull up the Southwest check-in screen and enter my name and confirmation number. I feel my heart speeding up and adrenalin kicking in.

T Minus 10 minutes...I look to make sure I’ve spelled my name right. I’m not entirely sure if the last character of my confirmation number is the number ‘8’ or letter ‘B’. WTH? This adds a degree of difficulty to the game.

T Minus 5 minutes....I decide to go with ‘B’.
T Minus 4 minutes...I stare at the clock on the screen and practice not blinking.
T Minus 3 minutes....The pressure is building. I sweat on the screen. Ode to Kat.
T Minus 2 minutes...I scream at the screen. BRING IT ON, SUCKA.
T Minus 1 minute...I am pumped. I have my right forefinger lightly placed on the clicker....careful not to set off a premature click.
T Minus 30 seconds...I stare wide-eyed at the clock during the final countdown 5, 4, 3, 2, 1....ZERO

I hit “submit” and hold my breath.......

BINGO ....A48.
WE HAVE A WINNER IN DA HOUSE.

My ass will be seated in The Achiever Group.

I feel a sense of accomplishment. Some people run marathons (AWESOME job, Frankie) and some win at the game of “I’ll Beat Your Ass.” Frankie and Kat....bi-winners. Woo hoo.

BTW...PaulA hasn’t played the game yet. Looks like The Crappy Group for PaulA.. ..back that ass up.

But should PaulA be EXTRA nice to me over the next 24 hours...I might consider saving him a seat with us winners.

The Office Pool

This is March Madness and nothing says "jump in and join the fun" like an office pool. With every day that passes into March, temperatures are heating up.

The pool opens with plenty of room, but gets pretty murky...pretty fast...with so many people diving in. But over the next couple of weeks, pool filtering takes care of this problem.

With the office pool, "Diving in IS ALLOWED"...however, "yellow water is NOT acceptable." Hey, every pool has its rules and they are always posted. Yellow water would be considered dirty pool.

At this time during March Madness, many may have pool picks that are still above water, but with losses like Pittsburgh, Louisville, and Notre Dame, many folks have picks that are under. The pool always looks inviting when it first opens...with the hopes and dream of a perfect pool season...before teams start losing.

Many are desperately hoping to stay afloat with their picks. They try treading water to stay on top, but it is inevitable that over the next couple weeks, many end up all washed up. Some even end up losing their shirts. Especially the ones in the Las Vegas Pool.

The Las Vegas Pool has a bathing suit “optional” dress code for diving in. Their pool parties are Wild and Crazy. Hey, "What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas."

Anywhooooooo...............

Good Luck to all of you. I hope you have much success and rise to the top of your pool. Cuz if you go under, I can't be there to give you mouth-to-mouth. I'm in Las Vegas baby, losing my shirt.

Go UCONN

The New FACE of AARP

THE envelope arrived yesterday. The one that SCREAMS you’ve reached a certain status…old person status. AARP ( American Association of Retired Persons.) OUCH.

The organization does offer great discounts on car rentals, hotels and Dennys, but people aren’t always excited to hear they’ve reached the ripe ole age to get them. I have found there are 4 levels of acceptance:

Level 1 - Total Denial: immediately tearing up the envelope and throwing it in the trash, then burying it under nasty ass garbage so no one sees it.
Level 2 - Denial: reading the letter and then tossing it away.
Level 3 - Emerging Acceptance: reading the letter and then filing it under “What the hell?” for later consideration.
Level 4: - Acceptance: Paying for membership and running out for 10% OFF Early-Bird Special.

Currently I’m at level 2…Denial. I’m slowly working my way towards Acceptance, but that “don’t come easy.” Two years ago when I was at Level 1…I attacked the envelope. I violently ripped it up with my teeth and claws (did I mention I’m a Kat?)…and buried it under the coffee grinds in our trash. RIP AARP.

Regardless of what level you find yourself at and how many membership envelopes you destroy…AARP will keep sending them. They are persistent little buggers. They aren’t called AARP - Acutely Annoying Relentless Persons…for nothing.

Anywhoooooooooooo……………………

The face of AARP is changing. You don’t have to be a retired citizen to be included in this organization. Membership letters are being sent to those much younger.

Actually the letter we received yesterday was NOT for me or PaulA…but addressed to Brianna. If ever there was a case for LOL…it’s now. She’s only 19. Generation Y….YOUNG.

Apparently AARP is following the “accept and poke anybody” model of Facebook. Both have loosened their membership to include the living and the breathing.

Facebook first started off exclusively for Ivy League colleges, then added all colleges… then high schoolers. Now all us stiffs are on Facebook…working stiffs, old stiffs, and ugly stiffs. AARP is similar…just moving in the opposite direction. Old to young. You frequently hear of people younger than 50 receiving AARP.

The new face of AARP membership is looking younger and younger every day…with or without help from plastic surgeons.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Top o' the mornin' to ya.....

This morning I’m remembering the days when our three were Wee lil ones… running around the house looking for mischievous signs of the leprechaun.

You know the signs…green milk, green bottled water, green toilet water…(whatever could be turned magically green…from a couple drops of food coloring…I mean from the sheer magic of the leprechaun.)

Anywhooooo………..

Today is a day of all things Irish. Even if you don’t have a drop of Irish blood running through your veins, you have license to celebrate like an Irishman with Guinness running through his veins.

Today I’m an Irish poser…so ’ll be wearing o' the green, drinking o' the green, and talking o' the green. I won’t be singing Irish songs, unless I’ve had enough Irish grog…and I won’t be eating Irish food. I’m not a fan of the corn beef and cabbage. But I will be doing the Irish jig. This Kat likes to get her jiggy on.

I might not have a drop of Irish blood like Paddy PaulA, but I can get my Irish on with a drop of McCormick's Kelly green food coloring.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all lads and lassies, and special Irish blessings to PaulA and our sweet trinity…Big C, Colinboy, and Wishy.

May you find a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow.

It's COMCASTIC!

Everyone has their own Comcast story. A tale of a time Comcast made you run the gauntlet…forcing you to throw down the gauntlet. And we’re not talking a game for Xbox.

Here’s mine:

I logged on to Comcast.com to pay a bill, but encountered a typical problem…I couldn’t remember my password. (Remembering numerous passwords, PINS, userwords, and security questions has become impossible.) Before I was allowed to create a new password for my account…I had to answer a security question. “What is your favorite beverage?”

Huh? I hadn’t remembered choosing that question, but I figured it would be a breeze...slam-dunk/down-the-hatch easy. Heck, I know my favorite drinks. So I entered:

Wine? NOPE

Margarita? NOPE
Vodka Tonic with lime? Nope NOPE

I gave it my best shot…but I came up short in the beverage category.

They then instructed me to enter an instant messaging chat room with an agent named “Charlie”, who was there to “help”…which is a total crock of “pleh.” (“Help” spelled backwards.)

Our IM convo went:

Agent Charlie: “Hi, this is Charlie. Please provide the following information so I can authenticate your account:

Full name
Comcast account number (which is 13 digits long)
Billing address
4 digit social security

(Woo Hoo. I had all 4 numbers. Bing, Bing, Bing, Bing. 100 percent on my first test.)

Agent Charlie: Thank you. Please wait a few minutes.

Wait.. wait.. wait..

Katwoman: “Any more hoops, Charlie?”

Agent Charlie: “What is the 4 digit security pin you used during your installation of your phone service?”

Katwoman: “From 5 years ago?”

Agent Charlie: “What is the 4 digit security pin you used during your initial installation of your phone service?”

Katwoman: “Hey…my Blood Type is AB+ and my shoe size is 6 and half. I used to be a size 6 before children. If you were a woman, Charlie, you would understand.

Agent Charlie: “I need this to authenticate your account.”

Katwoman: “Sorry Charlie, but this is comcastic ridiculous. There’s more security on my Comcast account than there is security at a Dave Matthews concert. “The Space Between”… is huge. Buh Bye, Charlie.

Anywhooooooooooooooooo………............…...

I decided to go back to the first screen and try again with my favorite beverage. I was determined to give it the ole college try…just like most college students do with their beverages.

Rum Runners? NOPE

Beer? NOPE
Water? BINGO

Apparently water is my favorite beverage? Go figure. I must have been on the security question wagon that day.

I was then asked to come up with a new password…one that would be considered strong…something between 8 and 14 characters in length and containing at least one capital letter and one special character.

I decided to think of something I would not have a chance of forgetting. Easy…………Comcastsucks!

“Hey Charlie, that strong enough for ya???”

Apple Confession Bytes

Well……..

I did it. I downloaded the confession app from Apple. Just like I promised. This Kat always keeps her promises, except for the ones that I make with my fingers crossed behind my back. (Did I mention I’m 10 years old?)

Here is my review:

The confession app is pretty simple…you don’t need a higher power or divine intervention to help you figure it out. Just half a brain. BINGO. I have that.

First you enter your name and choose a password. It’s important to choose a password that no one could easily figure out…like, 007GodSquad.

There is a list of the Ten Commandments. When you click on a commandment…questions appear having to do with that particular sin. Next to each question is a place to make a check mark…should that sin apply. Example: Have you wished evil upon another person? Let me think. Does hoping the guy who cut me off in traffic hits the curb and flies out his window....count? It does?….CHECK mark.

There is a 'Custom Category' where you can write-in sins that don’t fall neatly into the Ten Commandments. Like on a voting ballot, when you feel strongly about voting for someone not listed. Like say 'Charlie Sheen for President.' You would think that pretty much every sin would be covered under the Big Ten. Maybe poking fun at Apple’s confession app is a sin. CHECKmark.

There is also a place to keep track of the date of your last confession...and a section with prayers that you could be asked to say when you are actually facing the priest during confession…or hiding from him behind the curtain.

Anywhooooooooo………………

I think the Apple confession app has the potential to sour. What if some hacker, figures out your password? Hey, it’s done all the time. (BEWARE of the computer geeks you let look at your computer for glitches…they’re really in the business of peeking into personal files.)

Also…be careful you don’t accidently leave the confession app open and say run to the bathroom, thus…exposing your sins. Try holding it…either, the act or the app. A list of sins in the hands of the wrong people…or any people…could be devaSTING. I emphasize STING in devasting.


Anywhooooooooooooooo2………….

When Adam and Eve bit into the Apple…that was original sin. Don’t you find it interesting that the Apple logo is a bitten apple? YIKES. So it only makes sense that Apple would be the first to offer a confession app. Hmm...I wonder what sins they have to diclose?

Just as long as my Apple products don’t have worms….I’m good.

There's an APP for That

Are you app happy? Do you have a large number of apps locked and loaded?

I’m not app happy…there are gaps between my apps. I own an iPad and a Droid, but I’ve only downloaded a relatively few apps, especially considering how many are offered.

I do possess the APPtitude for downloading apps, but not ample interest. So far I’ve only downloaded Stargazer and the Food Network…but I am thinking of APPlying more apps to my devices.

There are so many to choose from…where do you start? There’s probably an app for helping you decide what apps to download. I’m sure by now there’s a Tiger Blood App. Duh. And there’s probably an app for identifying lame blogs. (Note to self: make sure this blog isn’t listed.)

Anywhooooooooo…………….

There is one app that has grabbed my attention….the “Confession: A Roman Catholic App.” Absolution for a mere price of $1.99. YES…THERE’S AN APP FOR THAT.

The app is just perfect for Catholics-on-the-go. A Mobile Confession for the “let’s hurry up and get it over” Catholics. Holy App Batman.

Okay, it really isn’t designed to replace going to confession, but to act as an aid in your examination of conscience. You still have to go to a priest for absolution. (Hey, you can’t take away all the priests’ fun.)

Many Catholics do NOT enjoy going to confession…and laying their sins right out there for the priest to laugh at. (jk) I confess, I haven’t been in a while. Or years. But this new confession app just might do the trick as well as a MADAM in sin city. It could get more Catholics thinking about the act of confession. And that’s a first step.

Anywhoooooooooooooooo………

I wonder how it works?

Maybe the app categorizes and keeps track of the number of times you committed the 7 deadly sins: gluttony, greed, lust, envy, sloth, pride, anger...AND the 2 recently added sins: living-in-sin and ugly-as-sin.

I’ll download it and report back to you about my new app. I swear, I will.

OML. Oh My Lord…I just saw online that the confession app is now ON SALE. It has been marked down for Lent. Get OUT!

I am all over this. I can never resist a sale….no matter what I have to do or who I have to kill, to get it.

Name Objection

Do you get attached to “objects?” Inanimate objects? Not intimate objects…but ones that are just as personal.

Sometimes it’s hard NOT to get attached to things. A cell phone, fan, curling iron…become part of our daily lives and our routine….so much so, that some objects are given names.

Many people name their cars. I don’t, but I kiss them goodbye when the lease is up. Our friend, BillyA, once owned a car he called “Vincent”. Not sure where he came up with that? Maybe Vincent Price? Poor Vincent was smashed on both ends…front and back..not worth much. Vincent Low Price.

Recently I bought a GPS so that when we’re travelling, we know our location…even on foot. I don’t like the idea of using my cell phone as a GPS and wearing down the battery. A cell phone with a low battery…is dead to me.

I instantly fell in love with my new GPS…so much so…that I thought it was deserving of a name. My parents have one they call “Elvira.” I love that name, but I figured I should come up with my own. But what?

Because the GPS comes with a woman’s voice, I decided to listen to it first before naming her and see what name came to mind. Kinda like new parents who wait until birth to get a look at their child for any distinguishing features. I once knew a family with a child named “Boy”…I guess we know what they saw. There probably is a kid walking around called, “Conehead.”

When I first plugged in and loaded (hold the vodka) my GPS, she started firing off directions…over and over. Woah….slow down woman. She just kept on with her badgering voice. A name instantly came to mind, “Naggy Bitch.” I decided to go with “Bitch”…for short.

Anwhoooooooooooo…………..……

On our last trip in a rental car…PaulA, who would no sooner ask someone for directions than if lost for all eternity…asked if I had my GPS. When I realized my girl wasn’t with me. I said, “You looking for the Bitch? Oh, I locked the Bitch in the trunk.”

He looked at me and said, “You like saying that, don’t you?”

Well. Maybe. But I don’t appreciate anyone else calling my girl, “Bitch.” She’s MY Bitch…forever and always.

Starbucks at 40

Headline: Starbucks hits 40 this year.

So how does Starbuck look at 40 years? Any wrinkles? Any bulges? Any vision loss?

Hey, after 40 years you would think you’d see some signs of aging. But in this case…Forty never looked so good. She’s showing no worse for wear. She’s still going strong, and you don’t get the sense of her slowing down.

Starbucks may have gotten a few wrinkles in the face of the last recession a year and a half ago… when she had to close over 900 shops. But since then, she’s made a transformation…her last quarter was the best in her 40 years. A little nip and tuck AND some injectables to the bottom line can work wonders.

Over 40 years, Starbucks’ frame has stayed pretty trim with beverages such as Chai tea and skinny drinks. But you can be sure she will be expanding with the addition of Starbucks Petites...8 cravable sweets, such as cake pops, whoopie pies, and mini-cupcakes. These new products are expected to add a little bulge to the bottom line. This will add to her base and profit her as she continues to age.

Starbucks still has a lot of moxie and mojo…showing no signs of being sluggish. You don’t get the sense that at age 40, she is slowing down. You don’t hear of any creaky and broken down joints. Starbuck’s joints are always kept in tip-top condition and run like a well oiled machine.

Anywhooooooooooooooo…………………..

Even at 40, Starbucks still has good vision. She has always changed and postured herself with the times (Yoga probably has helped.) She still has perfect 20/20 vision…and without Lasik, she clearly sees her direction.

Many are jealous of Starbucks and her unique ability to still look young, perky, and relevant in a competitive world.

I hope I look that good when I’m 40. :)

Top Ten List for Flight Attendants

I would like to take this opportunity to thank Flight Attendants for their hard work and patience. Being a flight attendant is not an easy job. First of all, you have to put up with the masses and sasses. And second of all, you have to put up with the crasses and jack asses.

I’ve assembled a TOP TEN LIST of:

THINGS THAT PISS OF FLIGHT ATTENDANTS

Not buckling your seatbelt
Not turning off your electronic device
Not putting your chair back into an upright position upon landing
Standing in the aisle to use the bathroom
Calling them ‘waitress’ or ‘waiter’
Dropping the F-bomb
Dropping the “F” and saying “bomb”
Playing with the exit door
Fist fighting with other passengers
Standing up and yelling, “OH MY GOD, WE’RE GOING DOWN” during turbulence


You just know Flight Attendants are biting their tongues when dealing with passengers...not saying what they are truly thinking.

TOP TEN LIST of:

THINGS THAT A FLIGHT ATTENDANT WOULD PREFER TO SAY

Buckle your seatbelt, or I’ll strangle you with it
Turn off your cell phone, before I confiscate it and step on it
Put your chair in an upright position, or I’ll kick it back with my combat boots
Get out of the aisle, before I run you over with the drink cart
Call me ‘waitress’ one more time, and you can wait until hell freezes over
Stop swearing at me...you #$%^&, potty mouth
You better be talking lip balm...and not bomb...or we’re bringing in the Suits
Play with the exit door and you’ll be forced to watch the in-flight safety instructions on repeat
Go ahead and duke it out with each other....one less passenger to deal with
Stand up and yell “OMG, WE’RE GOING DOWN” one more time...and get muzzled

I like to think of myself as the model passenger. As soon as I find my seat on the plane, I buckle up. I would never be disrespectful of flight attendants and get in their way. This Kat always flies by the book.

And I would NEVER stand up and yell, “OH MY GOD, WE’RE GOING DOWN”...
I would just yell it from my seat. Not the same thing.

Gwyneth Gripe

Does anyone else have a problem with Gwyneth Paltrow? I don’t know what it is about her that makes me want to throw my clog at the television whenever I see her. (Note to self: throw something lighter...it’s a new TV.) Okay...I’ll just throw my blog.

I guess I should clarify...I like Gwyneth...I really do. She has never done me wrong, except for the time she borrowed my dress and spilled red wine on it. But other than that...I have no trouble with her as a person. I think she is a great actress and I enjoyed her in “Shakespeare in Love.” But now that she thinks she is a country singing star...I got a chicken bone to pick with her.

My pissy reaction to her probably has something to do with the number of times I’ve seen her on either Glee, CMA awards, Grammy Awards, and just recently the Academy Awards. On a bad note...it sounds like she intends to pursue a music career. She recently said she’d like to collaborate with Jay-Z. Uh Oh. I think Jay-z got “99 problems and Gwyn is one.” Yo

Anywhoooooooooo.................

I would rather see her husband, Chris Martin, perform with his band Cold Play. Chris Martin is a true artist...Gwyneth just plays one on TV.

Personally, I don’t think Gwyneth is country strong as a singing artist. And the idea of her singing hip hop is Ludicrous. (Darn, I’m good.) Gwyneth would be perfect for Broadway. I’d rather see her in a Broadway musical....during a Friday matinee.

Wait, there aren’t Broadway matinees on Fridays? He He...I knew that.

Canned Sheen

It’s only human nature to stare at a crash, or a car that has careened off the road into a ditch. We all do it.

Human rubber necks...wearing turtlenecks...staring at broken necks...causing bottle necks.

And while we’re rubbernecking...we’re thinking, “Whew...glad that ain’t me.”

Apparently Charlie Sheen is the proverbial car wreck we can’t stop from watching. Granted, we can’t help it, because the media plays him 24/7. But maybe the media is satisfying our appetite by spoon feeding us what we really want...Canned Sheen.

Obviously Charlie Sheen has some major problems, but it would be nice if the media turned off the spotlight they have focused on him. Take away his forum.

It seems that every day there is new Charlie crash...adding to his 12 car pile-up. Do we need to watch him crash and burn any further? He’s cooked his own goose long enough.

Charlie Sheen has become easy fodder for late night comedians, tabloids, and so-called news shows like “The Today Show.” Someone needs to rise up above this...and direct the rubber necking public off the low road...and onto the high road.

Besides...there will be others. Wait a few days and there will be another Hollywood crash and burn victim.

Anywhooooooooooooooooo...............................

The Sheen is well worn off Charlie and he appears to be in dire need of real help.

And we continue to say to ourselves, “Whew...glad that ain’t me.”

Canned Sheen...a huge can of cooked goose.

I’m full of it. How about you?

The Kat in the Hat

March 2nd is Dr. Suess's birthday. Today children of all ages are making rhymes and committing crimes. (Hey, it works.) This pseudoSuess blog is in honor of what would have ben Dr. Suess's 107th birthday.


The Kat in the hat
All day she done sat

All day she did blog
‘Bout nonsense and hog

‘Bout dogs that can talk
And fish that can walk

She never could stop
So they sent for a cop

Or someone in white
Whom she tried to bite

But alas she not win
Off to the loony bin

And there she does bloggin’
Not go for a joggin’

Not get off her butt
She is caught in a rut

All day she does ponder
In a seat over yonder

While her ass spreadin’ fat
Oh, that Kat in the Hat

Anywhoooooooooooooooooooo....................

One more that is soo hard to resist: GREEN EGGS AND HAM

I do NOT like Green Eggs and Ham.
I do NOT like them, Kat I am.

I do NOT like them on a bun.
I do NOT like them with a nun.

I do NOT like them for my dinner.
I do NOT like them with a sinner.

I do NOT like them with a bore.
I do NOT like them with a whore.

After a taste of Green Eggs and Ham....YUM YUM

I DO like Green Eggs and Ham.
I DO like them, Kat I am.

I DO like them in a jar.
I DO like them in a bar.

I DO like them there and here.
I DO like them with a beer.

I DO like them with my momma.
I DO like them with Obama.

Obviously...there is only one Dr. Seuss.

It’s hard to write like THE DOCTOR...without looking like you need one.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DR. SUESS.

Air Today, Gone Tomorrow

Hitting the Friendly Skies today. Let's hope they really are friendly. My blog title has me kinda worried.

All I can say is:

RABBIT, RABBIT, RABBIT