Category: In Which We Mock Ourselves

Party In My Pants Shirt as it came out of the envelope: Same shirt, LARGE PRINT EDITION: (Note the Kirstie Alley pose.)

1) Go to Applebee’s, intending to have the 250 calorie Weight Watchers salad. 2) Decide instead to share the Steak and Crabcakes (Crabcakes are MY Crack) and a Shrimp and Spinach Salad with the husband. 3) The one Crackcake will get into a territory war with the Shrimp while you are at the 24-Hour Store…

I have been fighting it off. And you have no idea how difficult it’s been. See, this is the thing. I am not a goal-oriented person. I look at my friend, the red-headed Catherine, who regularly updates me with new lists of goals she wants to accomplish. “In three years I want to…” and “By…

Gary actually invited me to jam with him, so I brought Blondie the new electric down to the basement. I made an iPod playlist/set list of songs I could play. I learned these things: 1) It does not really matter if you play the right chords if the distortion on the speaker is turned up…

I have, as Queen, a strong sense of noblesse oblige, with an equally strong sense of keeping my distance from anyone receiving my charity. I’m not the guy bagging the sand in front of the nearly-flooded house because I might encounter the tenants and have an awkward conversation with them. I am, however, all about…

I don’t watch the Dog Whisperer since I followed his advice and my dog decided to ignore me. Everything I know about dogs I learned from my dogs. 1. If a dog is very concerned about you because you are prone on the bed and sobbing about your heartless husband’s treatment of you, said dog…

“…If I had a million dollars, We wouldn’t have to eat Kraft Dinner [spoken]But we would eat Kraft Dinner Course we would, we’d just eat more And buy really expensive ketchups with it That’s right, all the fanciest Dijon ketchup. Mmmmmm Mmm” – Barenaked Ladies, “If I Had a Million Dollars” I went out to…

A few days ago I put on a top I bought. Gary said: “You aren’t really wearing that out.” “Why wouldn’t I wear this?” “It’s … not good.” “What’s wrong with it?” “It’s too young for you.” “No it’s not. Maybe it’s too young for you.” “Believe me. You look ridiculous.” “You are an idiot.”…

Crotch Doctors through the Years: Years 18-35: My first OB-GYN was an affable enough man who told me lies like “one sperm north of the knee can get you pregnant.” What happened to him, you ask, because Ellen we know you are nothing if not faithful complacent. He reacted to my diagnosis with “Well, since…