Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Hooray for Hollywood.

He's some famous producer/writer.

The last time we spoke he deleted me from 

I'm no star gazer and not easily impressed. One night he called me and yelled.

His scruffy exterior suits me.  He is completely brilliant and insane.

What I don't understand is how a man who is, supposedly, brilliant can't figure out how to post a picture without chopping off the corner?

I remember Alan Spector. I'm not signing up for that. Not without a 45 in my back pocket.

Love Boat

“Love, exciting and new. Climb aboard…we’re expecting youuuuuu”.

Man oh man I wanted on that boat. I knew I’d make a better cruise director then…what was her name? Julie?

I hated her hair. I just KNEW she was a hussy and a drug addict. It’s in the eyes people.

Finally I got my wish. I climbed aboard The Love Boat.

It really WAS “exciting and new”.

One night we both cried while in an, er…compromising position. I was overcome with emotion and reckless in my failure to observe decorum and, um, possibly drunk.

Just gazing at him, my hand caressing the remaining strand of hair on his head was enough to send me.

On our final day together he said he was SO busy I would have to drive to the 405 freeway to meet him for breakfast. He had an important meeting to attend.

30 minutes later he called to say he had rented a van and was speeding to his x-wife to help her move.

I guess he wasn’t that busy after all.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

I was sick.

It was little over a year ago. I had a fever of 105.
That’s high for an adult.
I was incapacitated on my couch..
My cell phone was in the bedroom. All I had to do was walk the 14 steps to retrieve it and call 911…
I didn’t want to because I was cold. I knew what they would do to me…put me on one of those ice beds to reduce my body temperature. Death was, frankly, more appealing.
I was wrapped in a million blankets, heat blaring and still…I could not move. I began to hallucinate but I’m not certain cuz I was hallucinating, I think.  What's that blurry image, Mommy is that you?
This is what it means to be single. To know your cell phone is steps away, completely incapable of reaching it…

Monday, September 28, 2009

Alec Baldwin

I had to break up with The King befause I'm actually in love with Alec Baldwin.  He called his little girl a "fat pig".  Then his wife, Kim Bassinger and her daughter dropped out of sight.

But look at him.  He's all over the telly. It seems you can't stop a man that behaves badly. 

I forgot to tell you what happened.  I just forgot, that's all. I'll tell you soon enough. 

Or never.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

To My Little Sister

This song is for you: Listen.
Erin. That’s her on the left. She lies, cheats and steals as a matter of course. She was an attorney and mother.
Erin, listen to me. There is only one way out of this morass…you have to stop stealing and cheating.
Your most recent escapade wherein you are attempting to steal from our mother again (who lives on Social Security) will not be tolerated. Not this time. Briana and I will stop you.

You’re better then this. You were such a smart and beautiful young woman. I think something terrible may have happened to you.

Bad things happened to all of us. You’re not the exception except for the fact you leverage your injury to hurt others.
For once in your life, choose wisely. Choose family. We don’t have the luxury of time. Not anymore.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The Cure for Pneumonia

Not these guys (The Cure).  The cure for Pneumonia, silly.
I'm like Madam Curie.  But I cured Pneumonia!

Curie was the first woman to receive a Nobel Prize. Then she was the only person in history to receive two Nobel Prizes in two sciences (Physics and Chemistry)?  She discovered radiation and two elements (Polonian and Radium).  She named the first element, Polonian, after her birthplace, Poland.  And folks call people from Poland stupid?

I'm the only person I know with a t-shirt emblazoned with the Periodic Table.  (I love that shirt.)
Enough suspence, I announce to you, the people of America and a couple of kooks in London, the CURE for Pneumonia:

Read with the voice-of-God-amplification:   HUNGARIAN BEEF SOUP.
I don't know if it's the soup or the way it sends comforting aromas whispering throughout the house.  But I feel better. 

When I cook soup I see my grandmother in the kitchen.  Her hair is done and she is wearing a broach with a strand of pearls. (I'm lucky if my wife beater has less then 3 stains on it.)

I have NO idea what was in her soup.  I try endlessly to re-create it.

It probably had some weird immigrant ingredient, like Pig lips.

I was 16 before my mother confessed her Irish Steak and Mushroom pie did not actually contain mushrooms.  The weird looking things were kidneys. Yes, I felt betrayed. I worked it out later ...with dolls.

You're a mushroom you bastard, "says Barbie, "No I'm NOT." replies the kidney". "Yes you are, I'm gonna beat you until you're dead,"I say.  "I'm already dead you dumbass, I'm a kidney".  "I don't care, I'm gonna beat you until you become a mushroom,"  I say.

"Good luck with that," the kidney responds. 

 I hate kidneys. They're so arrogant.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Sick as a DAWG

It's official.  I'm as sick as a dog. 

This is the 8th day of coughing like a 400-lb cigar smoking truck driver.  I'm sexy like that.

I was shocked to learn the thermometer revealed I did not have a temperature.  Then I had another shock.  My thermometer is a rectal thermometer.  I thought "bigger was better".
I have a disgusting, keep-the-neighbours-awake-at-night cough.  I don't have the energy to put on make-up, take a shower or leave the house. I think doctors will kill me I don't like doctors. (Except for that Orthopedic who put the splint on my broken finger.) I was going to dress up for the follow-up appointment.  I missed it.  He sent me a bill for $50.00. Alas, our love was too fragile to survive.

When evening rolls around I am coughing so vigorously (and repulsively) I think I'm going to be ill.

After strolling down this road before (it turned out to be Pneumonia) I've have the following courses of action:

1.  Ignore it.
2.  Enter into a loveless marriage to obtain health insurance.
3.  Pretend my last name is Gonzales (I'm really sorry about this one folks) and go to the Emergency Room. 
4.  Shoot myself in the head.

Please cast your vote for the preferred treatment.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Shocking News!

Let me go out on a limb don't stop by to read my left-wing, Bush-bashing political commentary, do you?

"We wanna hear about men.  Tell us about the MEN" the crowd chanted with increasing hostility.

Okay, settle down.

I'm not one to dissapoint reader. 

I had three very handsome gentlemen callers today.  Aiden, Jake and Bodi.  They came back twice because apparently, I'm a good time. 

I appeased their endless curiousity with blue popsicles.  "That'll keep their hands busy," I thought.  It resulted in what can only be described as sugar hysteria producing several blue stains on my white couch.

We played, the-restaurant-is-open-the-restaurant-is-closed game.  This was acheived by the lads opening and closing my gate with a CRASH to squeels of laughter.  I was elected  the "chef".  It's an ice cream restaurant, of course.
I showed them how to make their plastic slinkies from Chucky Cheese into moustaches, they pounded on my piano "It's a KEYBOARD not a piano Charmaine" Bodi informed me before twisting the nobs on my guitar to make them all even.  "Very smart" I said.

"Can you play the guitar?" I asked Bodi.  "Yes, I can play every instrument" he remarked. 

I totally get Vodka Mom  Who wouldn't want to be a Kindergarden teacher? 

I was telling someone about the day I went into premature menopause because something happened to me I could not explain.  All I could see were babies.  In mother's arms, playing in yards, screaming, laughing, playing, crying....they were EVERYWHERE.  Sometimes it still gets to me. Kids have been knocking on my door since I was in High School.
"It's because you play with them Charmaine" my sister says.  "You give them time and that's what every child wants" she explained. 

I've got time.  Send over the entire Kindergarden class!!

Monica Lewinsky

"One race, bro.  The human race"  Iz.

Here is what I've learned about "figthing back". 

You can't do it alone.  So many people try.  It's generally done through music,  literature or art. But let's face it, people don't read anymore.

When the world becomes so apathetic, inspired by fear or intimatidion...whatever the cause...we are all screwed. 

We allowed the former administration to break the Geneva Convention which condemns the torture of human beings as a war crime.  We are the only civilized country in the world to repeal it.

Nobody said a word. 

I have just one comment.  Dick Cheney said the torture tactics worked. 

So where is Osama I ask you? Don't you think it's weird we never "found" him?

I was not a fan of Saddam (the real target).  I am, however, a fan on the Constitution.

You're being played for a fool while the criminals slip out the back door, with bailouts galore stuffing their back pockets with our money.  Still, no one says a word cuz we're all scared.  We remain silent. Our silence will be our ultimate undoing.

I read an article today.  It mentioned that 30 million dollars was spent in investigating the Monica Lewinsky debacle.  Less then 10 million was spend investigating the Trade Towers act of terrorism.  Explain that to me? Did you read that article?  Of course not.  Americans don't actually read because we're scared to death of losing our jobs.  We don't want to read anything negative.  We have enough problems. Talk about mind controll. 

Love ya,

Friday, September 11, 2009

To My Sister

It's time to re-new your vows. 

Do it like this...  (click on the link below.)

I see Gunnar sliding down the isle onto his knees doing a guitar solo, Brody doing the shimmy and Aiden strolling down looking cool.  How fun! I'm in.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

I Stood up a Hit Man

Does this mean I'm going to have my legs broken, when I least suspect it?
He's not a mobster folks.  He just plays one on TV.  He's an actor.  I'm only saying this because some folks actually thought I was going to date a hit man.
Don't you know me by now?
Guido and I joked about who was more dangerous. His "familia" or my IRA connections.  We decided to call it a draw, out of mutual respect. I stood him up and he took it like a classic gentleman. Funny and easy breezy, the door left slightly ajar.
I can't date more then one man at a time.
But I know men can and do.  Especially wild cards you meet on the internet.
Remember Evil Surfer Dude?  His self-confidence soared after hanging out with me for a few months.  I liked the fact that he was a scientist because I love talking about Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Physiological Psychology. After a few months it became clear I knew more about these topics then he.  A red flag went up.  I did not ignore it. 
I found he was chasing another woman on the internet. I also found his resume.  She and I busted him in what can only be called the "Sting of the Century".  He lost the girl and his confidence. 
The poor bastard still appears on my doorstep begging for a second chance.
I have both eyes wide open.  So stop worrying about me, Michael.  I'm not as dumb as I look.
My playboy alert light is on.  My problem is this face.  All I want to do is kiss it.  Right now I am getting what I want.  The feeling of being awestruck by a man's masculinity.  
Given the right circumstances, I'm not opposed to punching it right in the kisser.  So STOP WORRYING about me!!!!


Tuesday, September 8, 2009

He Tried

For the record, I don't look for profundity among members of Congress.  There are no brain surgeons in residence.  Just guys towing the line, taking a paycheck and supporting their families. 

There's nothing wrong with that.

Except for the fact we don't pay them to relax when they hold our lives in their hands.

Do you keep track of what your Congressman is doing?  Of course not. Neither do I. How does one do it?
Alot of people talk smack about Ted Kennedy.  He's a murderer, don't you know.  He left some chick to die in the Chappaquiddick River. He is not particulary profound. But at least he tried to help you.

You're man, and we both know who we are talkin about, is responsible for killing hundreds of thousands of innocent people. Regular folks who ran out of their homes as bombs dropped on their heads, carrying their dead children in their arms.  I heard them screeching and crying on public radio.  It was a disgusting fiasco.  Innocent, normal people like you and I, paying the price for some political agenda they knew nothing about.

When he was done, he destroyed your economy and your healthcare.  His politcal friends slipped out the back door with billions.  Money you and I funded with our taxes.. Enron, Haliburton.  Where is your outrage?  I'll tell you, you're scared to death of losing your job or your house. Fear is how we silence people. I understand. I've likely lost more then you.  But I want it to end.  No more bailouts of shisters that behaved badly or were professional con-artists,  (Why do people in this country get rewarded for behaving badly?)  It only occurs because we agree to it.  How is this happening? Why isn't anyone saying anything?

But you don't listen to public radio do you?  You watch CNN. You prefer to be spoon fed like a 2 year old with lies.  FYI: The spoon of mashed peas heading for your mouth is not actually an airplane.

(Ted and his brain tumor...talking below.)

Friday, September 4, 2009

You had me at Hell No

Do you remember when Bobbie Ewing died on Dallas? The next season opened with his wife watching him in the shower realizing she had emerged from a bad dream.

I awoke to a knock at the door. "Bobbie, is that you?"  "No, it's The King." he said.
“What are you doing here? Didn’t I break up with you”? I said.

“You must have had a dream.” The King replied.

“Uh” I said scratching my head. “I thought we broke up. I mean, I read it on my own Blog. Blogs don’t lie.” I pondered.
After breakfast we rented a Wave Runner.
We headed out of the harbor. I clung to him as we drove to the Jetty. When we reached the open sea The King released the throttle. I shrieked.
Later The King said, "You know Charmaine, you’re so much softer these days".

“You mean like I was when we were on the Wave Runner?” I asked. “Yes” he replied.
A sample of that conversation:
“God Damn-it slow down you ass-hole!!” I said. “You’re going too damn fast. If you keep this up I’m jumping off. I will never ride one of these bullshit pieces of shit again. You are God-Damned irresponsible. You KNOW I’ve never been on one of these death traps before! Ahhhh
“If you were one of my sons we would be flying over….”

“I am NOT one of your sons! You've been trying to kill me since we met. If you traumatize me I will never ride again and quite possibly, require therapy.  Are you prepared to pay for that?"

He slowed down.
“Let’s trade places. You take the front. I’m going in for a dip”. He said. In jumping off, he caused the thing to roll and teeter.
“Ahhh. It's going to tip over Bastard,” I screamed, lovingly. "You can't tip it over Charmaine.  It's next to impossible." He said.
“You drive now.” he suggested.
“Hell Nooooooooo” I responded compliantly.
Soon I was flying recklessly over the waves.
The King laughed and said, “You’re doing great Buttercup. I KNEW you could do it. That’s wonderful.”
“I’m no pansy” I replied. (Secretly knowing we were both going to die.)
I wouldn’t let The King drive until the end of our allotted time.  (I've seen him drive.)
“You can drive now. Drive to the Buoy with the Sea Lions" I said.
He did.  He cut off the engine.  "Look at the cute little babies.” I clucked. Suddenly we were floating directly INTO the Buoy.
“You’re too Damned close . We’re going to hit it. Turn around NOW. The sea lions have teeth. They’ll attack us.” I said demurely. The mama sea lions began barking and the babies dove off in our direction.
“They're killer attack babies! They’re coming for us. Get us outta here. No, you can’t start the engine. The engine blades will chop the babies into a million pieces.” I said reasonably.
“You’re not leaving me with a lot of options,” he replied.
“Start the engine. Screw the little fuckers. Get us OUTTA here!!!!” I Said.
And he did.
We went home to take a nap on the couch, cuz old folks get tired.

We talked about the "horny" remark.  He said he was offended by my outrage over what was clearly a joke.  He said, I've told you that I love you and you never respond.  I've arranged to have you meet my kids and my friends -you always back out.  I waited over 6 months to, um, er...because that was not what I was looking for. 

Further, I did NOT leave you in Long Beach.  You had my car keys in your hand.  You refused to get in the car and insisted on getting a cab.  I tried to give you the money but you would not accept it. 

When we awoke he gathered up my dirty laundry to bring to his house to wash.  He looked at me from the doorway, laundry basket in hand, and said, "Do you see anything wrong with this picture?"

"Nope, not a thing," I said.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Why Women Remain Single

Ring Ring


Him: Is this Charmaine?

Me: Yes. Who were you expecting, the Night Stalker?

Him: Silence.

Him: This is Steve. Did you get my messages?

Me: I can't remember.

Him: I'm calling you from the Balboa Bay Club. I don't know if you got my last message. I forgot my cell today so I thought I'd call you from here.

Me: Okay.

Him: I don't know if you know about me and the Balboa Bay Club?

Me: Um, I don't. Do you mean you in RELATION to the Balboa Bay Club?

Him: Huh? I'm a personal trainer here. Would you like to meet tomorrow before the party?

Me: So I can determine if you are a serial killer and you can decipher if I'm one?

Him: Sound of crickets.

Me: Uh, Steve? That was a joke.

I'm already bored into a coma. I'll never make it past hello.

Why women remain single (below) (You have to cut and paste.)

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

The Godfather

This is Vito. (giggles) He sounds like he looks, like a hit man.

We talked and I liked him immediately. We laughed ourselves silly and agreed to skip the pre-first date lunch and move straight to a party with 300 of his friends.

He is brimming with confidence, has a deep voice and a huge personality AND....drum roll please....HE LOVES OPERA. (Not Oprah silly, Opera.) He is, after all, Italian.

He's from New York. He said waiting to talk to me for 6 months was worth it. He loves spunky wack job women. Bingo.

He is just what the doctor ordered...a larger then life take charge man.

Italian men and Irish women often get together. Both can be emotional and opinionated. But Italian men learn something from their Papas that can silence any Irish woman.

They say, "Yes Dear".

In return, they get everything.

Dating Again? Ahhhh

I decided to begin dating again. Slowly. Well, I'm just thinking about it at this stage. No promises.

Bachelor number one (1) is a Biomedical Engineer. He seems nice.

Bachelor number two (2) invited me to an elaborate party this Saturday. He calls me, "adorable and strange". That will work.

Bachelor number three (3) is a private investigator. In his profile he says he, "likes the feel of rain on his body when making love". That will NOT work.

There is another interesting option. He lives down the road in a lovely home a block from the ocean. He clearly wants to get married again. (If I marry him I won't have to change my zip code.) He owns his own business. He's one of those stable and secure fellas entertained by whacky women like me.

He's calling incessantly. I've decided to be upfront and say I'm ultimately looking for a relationship that culminates in marriage. It's the truth. I've just never said it out loud.

"Hey, who turned out the lights?" Oh, I guess I passed out for a minute.