Current Electricity

Thank you for returning to us.

Oh, we have missed you.

You stormed out last Sunday morning, without so much of a flicker of warning.

Things had been running smoothly; without interruption...

then bam.

You left us in a world of darkness.

It was hard to get used to our new life without you.

We felt despondent...

all our circuits had been broken.

We blindly walked around the house...unable to function properly...

unable to make meals...do chores...or even watch television.

We missed you the second you left.

Your brillant and perpetual glow lights up entire rooms,

 so your presence was greatly missed.

It hurt us that we spotted you in other places around town,

shining your radiant light for others. 

But we never lost hope that you would soon return to us

and end our darkness.

Anywhooooo.....

We are so happy that you have come back into our lives. 

Don't ever leave us.

You light up our lives.

Me, Myself, and Irene

You may or may not be familiar with "Raising Kane" ...

but you have to be familiar with Hurricane Irene

 raising cane on the east coast of the United States.

It’s consumed the airwaves and sea waves for the entire week.

You’d have to be living under Plymouth Rock

to not know there was a hurricane coming to the northeast this weekend.

There’s been 25 hour coverage on television as we watched Irene sashay her sultry butt up the east coast.

(That nasty biotch.)

The advantage of living in the Northeast is that we know waay in advance that a hurricane is coming

and have time to get prepared /procrastinate.

For some reason, the more the forecasters and doplers talk and lecture about Irene...

the more I hear Charlie Brown’s teacher’s voice...waaa..waaaa.

Anywhoooo.........

So what have I done to get ready for this huge weather event?

Not much. Nothing. Really.

Note to self : Get off your ass. Be a good Girl Scout and tie some knots.

The most I’ve done over the past 3 or 4 days is to buy tickets to see the performance of...

 “Wicked”

in Hartford, CT on Sunday.

Sunday, the day Wicked Irene, the unwanted visitor, comes knocking at our door.

I don’t know what I wasn’t thinking...

Apparently I’m not too worried.

I attribute my laissez faire attitude to my maiden name. Thomas.

I fit the Doubting Thomas mold.

(usually I’m not this moldy.)

So what could be the worst scenario?

The worst case scenario could be destruction to our home, and loss of life and tree limb....

but I’m thinking the realistic worse would be

No internet connection for 3 days.

No blogging for 72 hours.

Say it isn’t so, Flo.

I look forward to when all this hubbub and hallabaloo about Hurricane Irene and her wicked ways...

is behind us ...and we can all say...

Goodnight, IRENE.

That's Amore

Who doesn’t love Pizza?

It’s a well rounded food...

eaten round the clock...

sometimes with a round of beers.

It’s good for breakfast...eaten cold.

Great for lunch and dinner...eaten with a cold one.

Awesome for midnight snack....eaten cold, with a cold one.

But are you a true fan of the pizza pie?

How far would you drive for your favorite pizza...

10 miles...30 miles...1400 miles?

You are a true fan SLASH nut job if you would drive 1400 miles.

That’s exactly how far David Schuler drove...

from his home in Jackson, Mississippi to Town Spa Pizza in Stoughton, Mass to pick up 150 pizzas.

Apparently Jackson, MS has better grits and biscuits than pizza.

(Note to self:  idea: Southern Pizza:  Grits pizza with biscuit crust)

I’m lucky to live in an area of the country where there are a lot of good pizza joints.

My favorite is Pepe’s Pizza, which is 1 hour away in New Haven, CT.

I think 60 miles is as far as I would drive for a Za.

( But what would you do oo oo ...for a Klondike bar?)

Anywhoooooo......................

He doesn’t eat all these pizzas himself...he delivers them to his sisters, nieces, and nephew who have also relocated to the Jackson, Mississippi area.

He buys the pizzas half-cooked, seals them in vacuum-packed plastic,

 packs them in coolers with ice packs. ..and then drives them back in his SUV.

That got me wondering....

How much do you tip the guy who drives 1400 miles

to deliver your pizza?

("Hey Schuler, here’s a tip for you... steal the pizza recipe and open up your own pizza joint.”)

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie,

that’s amore.

Obama's Retreat

                                              What to do when the economy is struggling?

The Dow is plummeting,...

 unemployment rate is at 9.1%...

S&P downgrades the U.S. credit rating...

in other words.....

the economic climate is cloudy.

If you are the President of the United States, you go on vacation...for 10 days.

And you pray for Sunny skies...or Partly cloudy, at the very least.

 

Obama isn’t in DC, sweating it out in his office...he's down on the farm...

the Blue Heron Farm on Martha’s Vineyard.

I have a feeling he isn’t exactly milking cows on this farm.

But someone’s milking a pretty penny from his $50,000/wk 28-acre waterfront RENTAL.

It has been debated whether this is a good time for the President to be in Martha’s Vineyard.

Well, I would surely say so.

The vineyard other times of the year is dead, dead, dead.

It just might not be a good time for the President to take a vacation.

I would never deny anyone a vacation....

but there are times when hitting the beach and putting your feet in the sand, along with your head...

is not the right move.

If Obama was seen in his office with his sleeves rolled up, grinding it out,

while the rest of Washington was on recess, playing dodge ball ...

it would look good to the American People.

Sometimes it is just “better to look good than to feel good.” (Just ask Billy Crystal.)

Anywhoooo.....

The job of being a President is a difficult and arduous one,

so I understand the rationale that the President needs a break.

Heck, with technology he is never more than a round of golf away.

BUT the problem lies herein....hereby...and herewith..............

Americans would also like to be taking a vacation...from their JOB.

That’s the point....they aren’t working.

Apparently you need a JOB first, before you can take a vacation.

“It’s the economy, stupid.” (just ask the other Bill...Bill Clinton.)

Here’s hoping (that along with the President)....we all enjoy sunny skies, real soon.



Woodstock 1969

“If” this was August, 1969...and...

“If” you opposed the Vietnam War,

embraced the sexual revolution,

'experienced' psychedelic  rock,

and reeked of incense.....

(that’s a lot of “Ifs”)...

you would be in bed today...crashed...dead tired...

after 3 days at Woodstock.

You would also be in need of an EXTRA looooong shower...

and a scrub brush to clean those dirty feet.

(No “Ifs” about that.)

Woodstock...August 15-18, 1969

was billed as "3 days of Peace and Music"...and remarkably it was...just that.

A Love Fest in the mud, muck, and mire...that actually rolled into Day Four.

 

Woodstock,

where a half a million people descended on Max Yasgur’s 600 acre farm in Bethel, New York

and peacefully gathered to commune with each other and experience live music.

Can you dig it?

Trivia Question for you: (If you answer correctly, you get to keep reading my blog)...

Who was the last musician to play at Woodstock?

Woodstock,

where everything flowed...love, long hair, peasant blouses, and that 8-letter word...

pot...I mean, cannabis.

Woodstock,

Make Love NOT War.

Can you imagine a FREE concert today...of 500,000 people camping out in ankle deep mud for 3 days?

A few things could have helped Woodstock......

Better weather...altho the rain didn’t dampen spirits...just added to the squishy experience.

More latrines.  Any extras are a plus with 500,000 people..

 iPhones...to find your lost friends...and to call mom to let her know you were okay.

Anywhoooooo..........

Back in 1969...I was too young to attend a 3 day hippie concert, unless my square parents brought me.

But if I was of age...I would NOT have gone to Woodstock...

...the thought of thousands of hippies scared the bejeesus out of me...

Actually the thought of ONE hippie scared the mood ring off me.

I’m not entirely sure why I was such a fraidyKat of such peace-loving individuals.

Maybe it was their hippie look....maybe it was their drugs...maybe it was their hippie drugged look.

Or maybe yet...my parents convinced me that the hippie subculture was too counterculture.

So...where have all the hippies gone?

I'm guessing most went to college, married, and are still working for the man...

(hopefully they wear love beads and tie-dye underwear...under their work clothes.)

Where have all the flowers gone?

........the answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.

...............the answer is blowing in the wind.

                     .........the answer to my trivia question is: Jimi Hendrix

Keep On...Truckin'....and Reading my blog, Man.

Vice, Vice, Baby

With our economy in a downward dog position. …

we are spending less cashola on big-ticket items.

 Instead, we are indulging in small “vice” items such as beer, candy, ice cream, and lipstick.

Oooh la la

What better way to get out of a slump...than with a little VICE, VICE, baby....

beer, candy, and ice cream to the hips…

and a little lipstick to the lips.

There is nothing like a new shade of lipstick to put a little color on our faces and put us in a good mood. Although PaulA might argue that beer can have the same effect.

A tube of lipstick is a cost effective indulgence...

and the sassy names given to them (after things like: food, drink, sex, and romance)...

add decadence.

You don’t know whether to eat them or date them.

You never see lipstick called “Red.”

More like: “Cherry Desirable” or “Cherry Tart.”

(Ooooo...so scandalous.) 

I would love to work for L'Oreal and name different shades of lipstick..it could be fun:

Redneck Red,

One Hot Momma,

Lotsa Wine,

Blogger Blush,

 Kat Krush.

Back in Renaissance England days,

lipsticks were given names like: Rat, Horseflesh, Blood, and Puke.

And even “Smoked Ox”, “Chimney-Sweep”, and “Dying Monkey.”

(Honest…I can’t make this stuff up.)

Anyone at L'Oreal today suggesting “Puke” as a new lipstick shade...

would be smeared out of a job…likity split.

 (Note to L'Oreal... likity split...new name for lipstick)

Anywhooooooooooooo..................

Whenever I splurge on a new tube of lipstick....I almost always buy the wrong shade.

After I get home with "Dolce Vita" and apply it, the color looks more like “Dying Monkey."

So I end up going back to the store for another shade.

My bathroom cabinet drawer is full of rejected “little splurges.”

I guess the upside is...I’m stimulating the economy.

Wait, I think I’m on to something....................

Women unite.

Together we can stimulate this economy…one tube of lipstick at a time.

Letter of Complaint

Dear Kat,

I have a few things I need to get off my Portuguese Water Dog chest.

For the past few months I’ve been biting my chops, trying to keep my yap shut,

but if I continue to hold this in any longer...I will pass out.

To get right to the point of this letter..

First, Front, and Foremost...

Your services have gone downhill. You’ve let things slide sooo much that they have hit rock bottom. And.I.Can’t.take.it.Anymore.

When I bark at 5 pm to let you know that it’s MY dinner time...you get up and fix yourself a drink.

WTH?

I am not barking to remind you that it’s happy hour.

My walks have become shorter and shorter.

Walking me from the house to the fence

and then encouraging me to take a leak IS NOT considered a walk.

I’m never allowed any time to smell the roses or smell the crap anymore.

Sniffing the deposits of the fellow four-legged who have walked before me...

is the highlight of my day.

I’m waaay overdue for a visit to the dog groomer.

It’s been 8 weeks now and I’m beginning to resemble Cousin-It.

My hair is so long that it covers both my eyes and you know I only have one good eye.

Do you enjoy watching me run into walls, car doors, glass doors?

Anywhoooo....

Last night’s “incident” was the LAST and FINAL straw.

You know what I’m talking about....when I fell off the stairs on my way back up from the beach.

You were busy yacking with your girlfriends and not paying attention to me...

when I blindly veered off the side of the stairs and fell into the brush and poison ivy 6 feet below.

FML

 

PLEASE don’t tell me that I am barking up the wrong tree with these complaints.

If things don’t start improving around here SOON...

I will be forced to take my business, of being a dog, somewhere else.

You are OFFICIALLY on notice, Katwoman.

Dump runs

I took 3 dumps last week and it felt so good.

Got your attention yet?

(Gee, the crap I have to write to command any attention.)

I happen to love all dump runs to the Landfill.

There is something so freeing about leaving waste behind.

I feel so much lighter after a major dump.

Anywhooooo......

On my last run…I threw out a mirror (which had major potential for 7 years of bad luck.)

Luckily I’m of the belief that if you kiss a mirror before disposing it, you are absolved of all bad luck.

But just to be DOUBLE/TRIPLE sure of my luck quotient…I made-out with the mirror...

then tossed that sucker to Kingdom Come.

Damn thing never made me look good, anyway.

By far...my favorite dump pile is the pile of defunct, kaput, has-been electronics.

We disposed an 80’s TV that had done its last flash dance

and respectfully laid it to rest, beside the other televisions.

Electronics like to be buried together...probably because they travel in the same circuits.

Anywhoooo………..

I have become a very careful and deliberate dumper...

especially after last summer’s mishap when I threw my car keys in the 5 ton glass bottle recycling dumpster. Der...by accident.

It proved to be quite the ordeal/scene/fiasco/pain-in-the-ass.

The attendant tried to help by raking through the sea of bottles and jars. 

Eureka.

Found car keys.

Not mine.

Unfortunately my extra set was safe at home....2 and half hours away.

After much time and expense...

(my car on a flatbed truck to a dealership,

a bumpy ride up front with the tow person and

new keys made)

I learned my dirty lesson.

Dirty Little Lesson: 

 Do NOT throw your car keys into a 5 ton recycling bin.

Gotta go now...I feel another dump run coming on.



Kat's Summer Blog Light

With our obsession with diet and exercise...everything has gone light and lean.

We want...Skinny jeans, Skinnygirl Margaritas, and skinny asses to skinny into our bathing suits. So...calories are out…

fat is out…

sugar is out

and kat is OUT.

Woo hoo

Anywhooooo......

This summer I’m offering a skinny version of my usual heavy full-bodied blog...

a watered-down, lighter version of the original.

(Think Sam’s Summer Ale...)

Ahhhhh...Kat’s Summer Blog Light.

When you read Kat’s Summer Blog Light…you’ll feel less full of the original.

And more satisfied.

Kat’s Summer Blog Light has more readability.

From the first line, you'll experience a greater and refined taste.

You’ll experience the true taste of pure unfiltered blog material….rich and smooth.

I promise...

the new Kat’s Summer Blog Light will be everything you want in a blog.

And Less.

Less verbiage.

Less doublespeak.

Less sarcasm.

So.....

Lose the absurdity from the original blog...not the taste.

Enjoy Kat’s Summer Blog Light in your leisure time.

If you’ve got the time…I’ve got the blog.

Kat’s Summer Blog Light, however, does come with a

WARNING:

Excessive Kat’s Summer Blog Light may cause blurry vision, dizziness, and impaired judgment.

Proceed with caution when reading.

Yo Ho Ho, PIRATES

Last weekend a band of marauding pirates descended the poop deck of their Jolly Roger and came ashore...plundering and pillaging the likes of our bluff.

They were a motley crew...looking for landlubbers to walk the plank.

Arrgghhhh.

Each year...we have a family get-together/pirate party

when anyone with an eye patch, rubber sword, bandana,

and the nonsense-ability to say “Shiver me timbers, Matey” ...is a pirate.

Needless to say, swashbuckling was had by all.

Reflecting back on the likes of me fella buccaneers, I got meself a wonderin’...

what part of the pirate stereotype is fact and what part is myth?

Or in other words....What is Fact or Crap?...(title rip-off of a fun game.)

So, here we go...Fact or Crap?

Pirates wore an eye patch to look bad ass? Fact or Crap?

Crap. Although the eye patch aded to their bad ass image...it was used to keep one eye adjusted to darkness so that when fighting moved inside the ship, below deck, they could see to fight.

Pirates made their prisoners walk the plank? Fact or Crap?

Crap. Walking the plank was too easy...not torturous enough.

Pirates preferred to hack their prisoners to death with swords.

Pirates wore colorful garb. Fact or Crap?

Fact. But real pirates don’t wear eyeliner...ala our fav fake pirate, Johnny Depp.

Pirates disappeared after the 18th century. Fact or Crap?

Crap. There are still pirates today..but they’ve traded in their treasure maps for the GPS.

Anywhooooo......

I was thinking that women aren't really thought of as pirates (except for Halloween costumes.)

So I cranked up the Google Machine to find the answer to my burning question:

Did women pirates exist?

Apparently there were women pirates in the 1700's (such as Anne Bonney and Mary Read)...

but the women dressed as men to hide their identity.

They actually looked like.....

And NOT like this......

Wait, did I  just hear you guys say, “Oh, Crap.”

Until next year Mateys............

(ye be properly warned)

Laptop OUT sick

My laptop is OUT sick today.

Has a virus.

Caught a bug.  

Out of commission.

The reason I'm  able to post this blog is because I'm using my virus-free iPad.

I'm not sure exactly how the virus took hold,  but its symptoms were...

fatigue, lethargy, memory loss, and inability to connect...(to the internet.)

A nasty infectious bug wormed its way in and made a new home.  

I was forced to take my sickly PC to an expert for evaluation.

After the Computer Doc checked its vital signs and completed a thorough examination...

he sat me down to give me the news.....

Thank the Lord...the prognosis was good.

The Doc assured me that after comprehensive treatment and a short stay in his care...

the virus would be removed.  

(It's just gonna cost you ma'am...cough it up.)

I asked the Doc why PC's come down with viruses and Mac's seem to have immunity.  

He informed me that the dirty guys,who never wash their hands, target PC's...

because there are more PC's worldwide than Mac's.

So they are able to hit a bigger target by infecting PC's.  

Anywhooooo........

I wish I could catch the people spreading viruses to otherwise healthy PC's.

I hope the perpetrators spreading these germs get a virus of their own...so they  see how it feels.  

I would suggest the Asian flu..the  H1N1 virus...or a bad case of bed bugs. 

They should at least have trouble sleeping with themselves at night.

Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

Today is the First day of the month.

Anywhooooo......

I don't want to scare you, but did you remember to say.....

Rabbit

Rabbit

Rabbit

If you did....you just might have some scary good luck.

Happy August 1st.