Halloween Alter Egos


Halloween is one of my favorite Holidays.  It gives me an excuse to whip out one of my alter egos and be it for a whole day.  I have been a Playboy Bunny, a Witch, Cowgirl, Biker Chick, Vampire, Devil, etc etc.   On Halloween you can usually get away with certain things that you wouldn’t normally do or say.  You just blame it on your alter ego.

1.) Have you ever acted in a certain manner or said something on Halloween that you normally couldn’t get away with?  Tell us about it…inquiring minds want to know!

2.) Want to make a Halloween caricature of yourself like mine?  I got this app on Facebook

3.) What was your best Halloween costume or party ever attended?

People At The DMV

After living in Florida almost 3 years, one pick pocket, and nearly 3 months later I finally took the trip down to the local DMV to get a new license. Where do the people inside the DMV come from? Not the employees with their perpetual scowls painted on their faces, but the people inside waiting to conduct their stately business.

Funny you never see these people driving on the road. It’s like walking into the Twilight Zone. Maybe even as if the DMV purposely plants these people there to amuse you because of the never ending lines and unpleasant wait. Looking around you have to wonder if a bus pulled up with a load of Carnies and dropped them off to get their state id’s and driver’s licenses. Do you need a license to operate the Tilt-O-Whirl?

I’m just saying the DMV is a scary place and it’s not the type of place you hang out in longer than you have to or dare to make eye contact with anyone. It seems the DMV will give anyone a license or id providing you have the proper paperwork.

I don’t think asking someone if they have any mental disabilities or illness that prevent one from driving a vehicle is a valid way of assessing that. I think it requires more than a yes or no answer. Maybe they should have a Psychiatrist planted in the crowed listening to and watching people. Surely, half the people in the DMV would be deemed clinically insane and unfit to be behind a wheel.

I think the People of Wal-Mart and the People at the DMV are one in the same.

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It’s Raining Men

I recently went on a girl’s night out. As you could imagine I was more than excited to spend an evening out with a bunch of girls chit chatting about current events, family, relationships, etc. Surely, reaffirming that I’m not the only one that has “issues.”

Girls night out is like free therapy…that is, if you discount the drinks and dinner. Who can pour out their woes better and more openly than a bunch of tipsy women, eager to be relieved of the stressors of work, husbands, boyfriends, children, and pets?. Just for the record we had a DD….we’re not completely irresponsible!

After dinner we had plans to hit La Bare men’s club in Ft. Lauderdale. I had no problem with this whatsoever, the last time I had seen male strippers was in my late 20’s, so I thought the stripping industry has surely come a long way since the Chippendales.

Ahhhh, was I wrong! In fact, I think the act of male stripping has actually regressed. From the moment I was able to focus my eyes in the dark neon flashing club filled with scantily clad bikini wearing men, I knew I was in for an interesting show.

I had joked earlier to my boyfriend that I needed singles for the strippers. The truth was, that I wasn’t about to give my hard earned money up to a bunch of male stippers! Besides, I’m not single and maybe 20 years ago I would have liked the attention from an exotic male dancer taking a couple of singles out of my cleavage……but I’m pretty sure it didn’t turn me on, even back then.

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I watched with careful attention all the other women in the club. I think our group was probably the most reserved group present. We made a pact when we went in….”what happens in La Bare stays in La Bare.” I’m sure it’s the same pact our husbands and boyfriends make when they walk into any given strip club.

I thought maybe our reservations had more to do with our age and experience, but as I made my observations from my seat, I saw many women my age or older loving the attention. To each his own…who am I to squash somebody’s fun night out?…besides for the most part it’s all harmless flirty fun. If you think about it, they are just doing their job. It’s the women that seem more desperate for the attention.

I wondered who their choreographer was for the club and if they didn’t have one….they were in need of one badly! Some of the men had some moves, but there just isn’t anything sexually arousing to me, watching a man air hump a stage floor or swing around from a leather strap dangling from the ceiling. Who was in charge of this club? Som men were in their own little world upon their dance pedestals, doing their mundane dance numbers off to the side. Lazy strippers!

Personally, I thought this poor little unattractive Native American man crawling across the stage to gather all the stray singles strewn about was more intriguing. What a job…picking up sweaty dollar bills from a filthy floor and they’re not even your tips!

I imagine he stays after when the club’s patrons and dancers have gone home. Sweeping the stage floor and with no one looking on, drops his broom, turns on the music and lights, and dances and swings around the strap hanging from the ceiling.

All in all, it was a great night out and getting to meet some new friends was the most amazing part of the whole night. Would I go back to the club again?…..sure, why not? You should always take every experience for what’s it’s worth. Maybe next time I could loosen up a bit and part with a few singles to help out a struggling artist just trying to make his way through life.

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Lazy Susans

Last evening after my boyfriend and I finished up dinner I was having a craving for some junk food, so I looked at him and said “hey, I’m going to Walgreen’s wanna come with?”
He answers back, “Sure I need to get a few things myself but wanna go to Wal-Mart?”

So we head on over to America’s favorite place where you can find every “hillbilly” in the free world clogging up the aisles with their shopping carts and unruly unbathed children.  Sorry, but it’s true.

But that’s not what this blog is about.  I can turn a blind eye and deaf ear to the mother in her daisy dukes and beater screaming down the toy aisle in her best southern drawl… “Allen Kyle if ya don’t git yer bahind over here I’m gonna open up a can of whoop ass on yew!”

No, my beef is when you get to the register and the cashier begins to put your purchases in the plastic bags on the bag carousel. Here’s a little fun fact… Did you know Wal Mart had a patent on that diddy and actually sued K-Mart and tried to stop them from using their idea? Excuse me, but hasn’t the Lazy Susan been around since the invention of the wheel?  

While Mal-Mart Executives and Cashiers may see this as a convenience, I think it is the most idiotic thing since the pet rock.  While you’re trying to keep track of your items and punch in all your pin numbers and passcodes the spinning centrifuge mysteriously sucks your items into a vortex never to be seen again.

It doesn’t help that your cashier…who is coincidentally named Susan, is also a lazy ass who doesn’t help you gather all your bags.

While you’re gathering up your purchases spinning the carousel yet again, she’s already ringing up the next customer and spinning it counter clockwise to bag more items.

Once you get home and start unloading the bags you realize the item you needed the most is the one that’s missing. And some other lucky schmuck is at home eating your chocolate!

So I implore you… Lazy Susans and ALL Wal-Mart cashiers of the world…please make sure the customer(that would be me!) has ALL their items before you start ringing the next customer.

Has this ever happened to you?

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