Tuesday, November 15, 2011

That's ENOUGH

... about me. Let's focus on some laughs.

 Now that's a bridesmaid photo.

HA Ha ha


 Never had turducken before. But I didn't know sex was involved.

 Exactly.
 I wonder if they thought through this title, or were they going for the inside joke?

 They really do look this stupid. There's a little man inside every saggy jean.

 We all have our limits.

 Even dogs.

 I've never gotten this error message. Where does it dispense?

 Never trust a two-faced man.

 I am sure it's kosher.
 I know the feeling. Watched my ship sail in, watched it sail away.

Shit head.  I am hoping this was a bad bet.

 Some people have it firmly planted.

 He was probably a Wall Street trader just weeks ago. Before OWS. The greed factor got to him.

 Awh, a yellow lab banana dog. Grilled-cheese Jesus move aside.
 Step aside for dog-butt Jesus, that is.

 This really is not a funny just in case you were thinking you didn't get the joke. I think it is possible for people to do good, just to do good as a human. Secular Humanism. 
Anyway if I've insulted you with any of these jokes, why, thank you very much. And quit being so sensitive. c.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Spiritual Chicken Dance

On Friday 11-11-11, I turned 51, that would be 40 + 11 for my 'golden birthday'. I have always had a 'thing' about numbers, not sure if I'd call it numerology or not. I'd say not.  I really don't look-up what my 'sun number ' is, or other terms people involved with that do. I just know I have a lot of double and triple numbers involved in my life and I feel very lucky.

It was important to celebrate the day. John and Cyn provided their lovely home for a venue. KJ and Greg did a lot of cooking. Janie and Pam made cakes. Many others pitched-in, I am very grateful for this group of friends in Colorado.

A few hours into the party, after the food and cake, some guests left. They had to get up early to work and such. Then I was told to come on downstairs. Everybody was told to come downstairs. John got on a microphone. " Everyone gather around Carol," they were told. "Put your hands to her and then to the sky and reach for the stars." Everyone did.  "Everyone reach for the stars and pick out the best stars for Carol and yourselves."

It then occurred to me, "Shit, I hope this is not an intervention."

Then John said, " put your hands under your arms and create angel wings that will guide you through your journey to the stars that will be your daily destination to be the very best, and then shake your butt, or your tail, to shake off the bad days you don't need. So, reach for the stars, create your angel wings and shake off the bad... "

Then he turned on the sound to his computer speakers and it was the chicken dance.  It was the most spiritual chicken dance I have ever witnessed. After  we all participated, the music went on to 'Rock Lobster' and then 'Love Shack' and then the 'Rocky theme' song.

It was a lovely party. Here are some snaps some from my camera, and many from Pam's camera. Thank you everyone for joining the fun and don't forget to reach for the stars ...

KJ and Cyn

 The cakes... Janie thought it was my 50th, thanks for the extra year! The cake on the right was written on by the bread guy at the store. The bakery gal was out.  Jesus, lucky we could read the thing, he didn't even fit birthday on one line.

 Bob carried the cake. 51 candles,
 highly flammable.


 The whole room felt the heat.

Luckily the smoke alarm did not go off. The fire department was not called.
 The Jones'
 I look similar. And I am delusional.

 Loving husband, G2

 Todd and Barb
 Dave and Sue
 Not a day over 51. I would love one of those Lifetime face lifts if I am on your gift list.

 Janie is the spark in any room.

 Like I said, any room. The only cockroach of the night.

 Dancing after the intervention chicken dance.

 Cyn plays with the Band.
 Cyn and OT
 So nice to see Shelly and Neil.
 Don't let those innocent eyes fool you. Denise or "Little D".  Noel's work replacement failed to show-up.
 One of the 11-11-11 posters by John.

 John and Sharon

 Folks at the bar.
The final 5.

The Broncos and Bears won their games today. The Bears won handily. The Bills lost handily. What a weekend. Next stop, LasVegas, Baby. I'll make your Super Bowl bets for you, better go with the Bears.

Friday, November 11, 2011

11-11-11

It's here. The day when the elevens line up. I guess if it was 11-11-1111, that's be cooler, however I would probably be suffering from the plague or some other middle earthen catastrophic disease, if I was in fact born, which I would not be, since I was born in 1960. What I am saying is that 11-11-11 is pretty  cool.


Last night the Survivor crew got together and we had ourselves a great dinner thanks to my wonderful husband who sure can cook. They also threw me a little party. They also reminded me this blog would not be possible without them. I think the quote was "Your blog would be nothing without us." I would have to agree.

I slept in with a mild red wine hangover and woke to find out where to hell was Matt Lauer. I think the segment is 'Where in the world is Matt Lauer'. Anyway I like 'where to hell' better. He was in Barbados. I could feel the sand and the sun of the beach. Soon. Not too soon, like maybe next year. That lucky dog, Matt Lauer.

I got up and ate a box of Dots. Like a whole movie-box. I know, maybe Matt Lauer is not the only lucky one. Then I had a piece of birthday cake and a few leftover ribs. I am telling you this so you don't hate me for being perfect.

Yesterday, I had to go to motor vehicles to get my license renewed. For the love of Pete, could they possibly move any slower? Two elderly ladies were ahead of me. I am talking 70-80 year old plus, with wheel-chairs and cerebral palsy canes. I was thinking maybe their driving days should be over. I wanted to go grab those wheel chairs and help them along. "Okay now we go over here for the photo."... I am bad. Just wait until I am that age.

Tonight is my 11-11-11 party. Cyn keeps reminding me she has the Beam and some Jagermeister as well. I gave up Jager and all other serious shots along time ago. Last time I did 'Butter Babies' to excess, John and Noel walked me home and Noel fell and we laughed and laughed and solved some world problems over a beer we did not need. Good thing Travis sent me the Motrin and band-aides. I just might need them.
Be good or good at it, Carol

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Two wrongs don't make a right

   I was searching today on the web for sports stories vindicating Jay Cutler.  I always do after a Bear's game when he does an awesome job. I promise you, when I found this photo I was not searching using the word pussy in the search.

 It is obviously photo-shopped, however, I nearly fell off my chair laughing when I saw it.

   It was a really good game against the Eagles. Those sportscasters from ESPN are morons when doing color for Monday Night Football. With nine seconds left in the game, one of them, not sure which one, because I don't give a shit, said that maybe the kicker should run around in the backfield and try to run the clock down, maybe even taking a safety, rather than kicking it to the Eagles and risking a run back. For Pete's sake, where do they get these MFs.
   I got Mag's a Bear's sweatshirt for her birthday and she said she loves it even more than the pocket thesaurus.  We got ourselves another Jay Cutler fan in the house.


     The only thing she asked from Bryce is that he put on pants for her birthday dinner. He was running around with his boxers on.

    Speaking of birthdays, my most favorite day-ever is in three days, 11-11-11. The Russel's are hosting a party and that will be fun. It should be smallish,which are often the best kind, so if you're in town show up.


We are heading to Vegas in a week, so that will be something to celebrate. Yahhhoooooo!

     

Monday, November 7, 2011

Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

   It was 1979. The Police had just released their second album, Reggatta de Blanc. This was cutting-edge music. Some called it 'new wave', others 'punk'. It seems like pretty fluffy stuff by today's standards. Trust me, parents feared it as much as rap today.  I was 18 or 19 and like a lot of youth, of even today, the music I listened to was the soundtrack to my life. I made a decision to stick with the folksy- Americana-Bluegrass over the newer progressive tunes of the Police and the like. I went to a few Grateful Dead shows, a few local bluegrass festivals and I was hooked. What could be more fun than 'kicking shit' (dancing) and drinking beer to some down-home music that could make anyone feel good, even when they were singing about the darkest days of life?
  One friend had a recording of  'Will the Circle be Unbroken', a compilation of country/bluegrass music by the best in the genre, including: Roy Acuff, Mother Maybelle Carter, Doc Watson, Earl Scruggs, Merle Travis, Bashful Brother Oswald, Norman Blake, Jimmy Martin, and others.
   I wore that album out. As far as I am concerned, along with The Band's, 'Last Waltz',  it is the best recording of music by a group of musicians that exists. Oh Brother, Where Out Thou, is in the mix, but a definite third place.
    So when the opportunity arose to go to the NGDB concert, I did not even hesitate.
    I've always felt they never got their due. They are mostly known for their cover of 'Mr. Bojangles'. (Yes, they did play it.) But they wrote great songs like, An American Dream, The Long Hard Road, Modern Romance, Fishing in the Dark, and co-wrote Bless the Broken Road, to name a few. They have morphed over a dozen times through the years. The band included: Bob Carpenter; keys, Jimmie Fadden; drums, harmonica, Jeff Hanna; guitar, lead vocals and John McEuen; playing every conceivable string instrument known to modern man. I admit, I did miss Jimmy Ibbotson, with his  California-surfer-good looks, albeit, aged. I saw him playing solo a few years back and he was advertised as "Jimmy Ibbotson, formally of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band... " You know without the tie to the mentioned band it would have been, "Jimmy, who?"
     In between the divorce and has-been jokes they delivered a balance of old and newer and threw in a couple Jimmy Martin tunes (My Walking Shoes don't fit me any more) for good measure. Yes, they are a bunch of old hippies but they are talented old hippies. 
     I figured they must have known I was there because they did a cover of The Weight, by the Band, during their encore. The cherry on  top. This music is still the soundtrack to my life. But only on weekends, I swear.







This group has been playing together for 45 years. I hope they have many more. Can you say 'Pappa John Creech'?
(Thanks, Denise.)