76 posts categorized "Margie"

April 17, 2009

Margie's Tea Party

Margie's Tea Party

By Me, Margie

Blog Boston Tea Party Okay, first let's review.  If you don't know anything about the original Boston Tea Party, you seriously need to catch up.  I highly recommend the following learn-ed treatise, which is a fancy way of saying it was written by a smart person, namely Me, Margie:  http://thelipstickchronicles.typepad.com/the_lipstick_chronicles/2008/07/margies-4th-of.html

Now we all know that the Original Tea Party was to protest "Taxation Without Representation".  This is a bigass thing since it led to the Revolutionary War and the eventual formation of the United States of America. Many of us live here, and we love and are proud of our country.  Yeah, I know, we've got some jackass dickwad scoundrel rat bastards who try to make us look bad, but it's still a great country.

It's like my Aunt Bella Marie says when the Vatican comes out with some lame brain thing, like not using condoms to help stop the spread of AIDS.  "Those are Man's rules, not God's rules, una raggazina.  Men make mistakes all the time.  Doesn't mean God doesn't know they're stunads."  Yeah, don't think about it too much, just take the drift and move on.  The Aunts have their own ways, capisce?

And while we're on the subject of shared family wisdom, Cousin Rocco says to make sure that people don't confuse Tea Parties with Tea Bagging.  There is a big difference, and believe me when I tell you that it's not a surprise you want to experience in the fricking town square or someplace.  Rocco and I also think that those guys with the actual teabags on their glasses and hats swinging in their faces might be enjoying that a little too much. Thanks Rocco, now stop reading over my shoulder and finish braiding my hair. Thanks.  We're busy here, y'know, we have to multi-task.

Blog mad tea party Anyway, people are talking about the New Tea Party Thing.  I think it's supposed to be some kind of tax protest against President Obama, but I gotta tell you, it's confusing, because some of it makes no sense.  I mean, if the previous crew started a huge mess, then maybe they ought to be having these tea parties in Dallas (I mean, if Texas hasn't yet seceded from the Union or WTF goes on down there) or wherever Cheney's current undisclosed location might be.  Is he still in one of those?  Because my advice is to avoid that guy.  I mean, he shot his own friend in the face  - what the hell to you think he'd to you or me?  Those teabags aren't bulletproof, you know.  Just sayin'.

I do get this part - IF the proposed tax plan passes, rich people are going to have to pay more taxes. Maybe that's fair and maybe it isn't, but I can see why they're pissed off.  I mean, nobody likes to pay taxes, including rich people.  If they want to protest that, it's cool (I hafta wonder if they use fancy teabags or just regular ones?).  We're allowed to protest whateverthefuck we want here - it's part of what makes our country great.  But they really can't piggyback on the teabags (yeah, Rocco, that IS a good one, thanx). It's not like rich people aren't well represented in the government, which was the whole Boston Tea Party theme.  Shit, who do you think donates all those campaign funds - the Hobo Society? The Wretched Refuse Cotillion? The Stars'n'Bars for Uninspected Cars? Nope.  

No representation? Really, richnicks?  How about Dick Army (loving that name - I mean, you can't make that shit up, right? Talk about a born leader for jags).  He's only one high profile guy, but let's be honest - do you really think any members of Congress are losing sleep because nobody pays attention to the wealthy?  Neh.  

What this really tells me - and I have a sense about these things, so trust me - is that these New Tea Party people can't come up with an original idea.  Which means they're not really the rich people.  Because rich people?  They got new ideas comin' out the yingyang. That's one way they get rich.  Duh.  So if they're not the rich people, then who are they? Because the rest of the people are going to be paying lower taxes.  Could it be they are (shhhh - don't say it too loud, some of them can read, but they prefer to be told) the lemming people?

Screw it.  I'm having my own Tea Party.  We're going to be mixin up some Long Island versions along with the regular Earl Grey.  You may want to watch it if Cousin Rita is brewing - she's been experimenting with some other, uh, herbal stuff that her sailor boys are bringing back from wherever they come and go. No digs on Cousin Rita though - I hear she's working on, um, scoring some seats for Obama's speech at Annapolis graduation.  Not sure if she wants to be there to see the Prez or just to get the first look at the newbies.  

My Tea Party is going to be in protest of IDIOTS.  We have way, way too many of them, and more and more of them are getting on TV.  Also, manthongs.  No, no and HE-YELL NO!

So, wanna come to my Tea Party, or do you want to have your own protest?  I'll bring the sugah.

March 18, 2009

Words That Sound Dirty But Aren't

Words That Sound Dirty But Aren't

By Me, Margie, filling in for Elaine, who is on deadline

Blog ballcock Ballcock.  It's a real word, and a part in your toilet tank.  For teenage boys, that one is a trifecta.

Hope you weren't expecting some kind of refined, high brow discussion today.  There is so much rotten crap going on in the news that I'm tempted to get myself a mask, a cape and a couple of circular saws and just clean some fucking house.  I'm talking to you, AIG rat pig bastards.  No offense to actual swine of questionable parentage.

So instead of designing my Watchwoman costume (do they make durable fishnets?) I am going to talk nonsense.  No comments from the damn peanut gallery on that one either.

I love dirty words.  Love. Them.  I use them whenever I can.  But sometimes, when ya really, really want to use a dirty word, and you cannot, it's great to have a holster full of real words that just sound porny.  You know, like when you open the monthly statement from your vacation fund, or retirement fund, or basic money I have to live on fund, and you happen to be within earshot of one of your Aunts. 

Words like Uvula.  Which sounds like part of someone's genitalia, but is really that thing that hangs down the back of your throat.  heh.  That just happened.  Coccyx is another one.  It's a real anatomical part that sounds like another one.  Masticate is a physical act, but not a dirty one, unless you're eating something that tastes like crap.

One of my favorite dirty-sounding names is Dick Butkus.  I mean, really - it's a good thing that guy is as big as a horse, because with that name, the chances of him being beaten up are sky high.  And is there any one of us who can keep a straight face when someone calls the bar and asks for "Mr. Meoff"?

Guaranteed to get a laugh (and probably a "Mom! Aunt Margie said: ________!"): ramrod, mandate (which is now like a regular bromance word, so it's not as funny) and penal.  Even the word pianist works in the right joke.

Blog-uranus Then there are the ones from school - #1:  Uranus.  Still cracking up kids since it was discovered a coupla centuries ago.  Favorite in literature:  Balzac.  Geography?  Lake Titicaca.  You get to double down on that one.  Runner-up: Bangkok.

Then there are the word-play ones.  Gladiator.  Linguist.  Cummerbund. Ramification.  We could go on forever.

Today you have a choice: wallow in our collective rage and try not to commit a felony, or pretend you're 13 and make the rest of us giggle.  You can list words, or tell a dumb joke or a short story.  I have at least five more words in mind, and no one is going home until we get them all.

January 30, 2009

Sex in the News

Sex in the News

By Me, Margie, filling in for Sweeney who has some kind of flu

Normally, I have some advance warning before I write a blog, but this time I did not - so I have to write what I know, y'know?

Blog 3D Porn Big news out of Hong Kong, where they are developing 3-D Porn movies.  You have to wear those virtual reality glasses to watch them.  Which could be very cool, except for a few issues:

1.  Some things?  You just don't want to get that close.  I mean, unless you are so overcome with whatever is being done to you that you could stare directly into the face of death and not give a shit.  Otherwise, there are parts of the human body that just aren't made for upclose HD.

2. The Creeper factor.  Like, you're sitting in a crowded airport - or worse yet - next to someone on a plane, and they pull out the fuckspecs.  Because, really?  The people who spend the money to buy those things are not going to be the kind of hotties that you'd enjoy watching get up and over, and I think you know what I mean.

3.  Have you ever been to a 3-D movie?  People are always jumping around and waving at things they think are there, but are not.  You don't have to be freaking Fellini to imagine the kind of hand motions that will accompany 3D Porn.  No. Thank. You.  Take that shit home and keep it to yourself.

4.  For marketing reasons, the press release should have come from Bangkok.

Blog NYT Mag Next up: Women and Sex.  A paper no less esteemed than the New York Times did a cover story on what women want when it comes to sex.  Yippee!  I thought maybe someone was actually paying attention and asking the right questions. Turns out, all you had to do was look at the photos to see that it was targeted to men, and not in a good way, either. 

Were there simple diagrams?  Some kind of road map with directions?  Because believe it or not, some guys still think women only have three erogenous zones, and when it comes to the third one, they think it's more like a football field, where you just keep running all over the place and hope to get in the end zone, rather than a finely-tuned instrument which requires skill and practice to create the best music.  
I mean, that whole alphabet thing was just supposed to be a warm-up - you are supposed to be paying attention to which letters elicit a positive response, not playing wheel of fortune hoping you don't have to buy a vowel.  Geez.

News flash, people - not all women are comfortable asking for what they want.  I mean, not all women are even comfortable being on top, where they at least have a shot at getting somewhere before Mr. Stud goes his own way and then falls asleep.  Some men are great and sensitive lovers.  But they're mostly mine, so the rest of you are out of luck.  Kidding.  I'm sure lots of you have wonderful partners.

Here's a real bombshell in the news:  Abstinence Programs Do Not Work.  

Holy shit!  I can't believe it!  Do you mean to tell me that teenagers with raging hormones are not going to stop banging anything on legs just because they wear a chastity ring?  Duh.  Anyone who believes this crap shouldn't even be teaching Pre-K kids how to put the socks on before the shoes, let alone teenagers. The only way you're going to get teenage boys to stop is to put that ring somewhere else and hope the pain overrides the testosterone.  Which is totally barbaric, so don't go getting any ideas, freaks.

From the Fact or Bullshit files - Rumors that Gov. Blagojevich was going to sell chunks of his hair for custom merkins in order to raise money for his legal defense fund?  Not true.  It's these kind of stories that can fall through the cracks, but luckily you have Me, Margie on top of this story.  On the other hand, the rumor that Viagra sales are drooping?  Totally true.

Blog PETA ad Finally, PETA's Super Bowl AD was rejected by the network because it was too sexual. Huh?  The ad states that vegetarians have better sex.  Then it shows some very fine specimens of the female of the species in various states of undress, with vegetables.  I know what you're thinking.  I mean, not even I, Margie, would try for something with a zucchini or banana on prime time TV.  But no - these are non-phallic veggies like lettuce and asparagus, which wouldn't do anyone a damn bit of good. And they're not even, you know, strategically placed.  But no - we'd rather watch cheerleaders with boobs falling out all over the place and - oops - thongs when those little skirts flip up.  Maybe those network people are still in shock from the Janet Jackson thing since it's the only time they've seen an actual nipple since they were infants. People are weird.

So, what's new with all of you this week?

January 13, 2009

Senator Me, Margie

Senator Me, Margie

Blog senate_large_seal By Me, Margie

Blog senate_large_seal I could never be a Senator.  And it's not just because of that thing we did that time at that place we went, either.  I don't have the patience for any of the bullshit - the campaigning, the fund-raising, the making nice with idiots, and most of all, the bus.  If you are going to run for Senate, you have to travel all over the damn place.  Since direct flights are rarer than a Dodo Bird, most of these pols get a bus. 

Have you been on a bus lately? They're like rolling dorm rooms.  Too small, too cluttered, and not well ventilated.  I mean, no wonder Willie Nelson waltzes with the wildwood weed.  If your bus has to smell like something, at least make it something that can give you a decent contact high.

But, for the helluvit, let's say I wanted to run for the Senate.  Here are some things I could do that wouldn't stand in my way:  

  • Have a secret kid with someone other than my partner.  Tougher for women, but still.
  • Get indicted for, like, major felony shit
  • Pay professionals for services not normally listed in the yellow pages.  Other than the sexual ones. Here's a hint - if you get a lowball offer to take someone out, it's probably from an undercover cop. Doesn't everyone know that?
  • Get CONVICTED of a REAL CRIME.  No lie.  Convicted and still ran for Senate.  Those are some bigass ice cubes up there.
  • Try to get a quickie in an airport bathroom.  Yuck. That right there is messed up.  First of all, quickies should be the exception, not something you plan out.  Second of all - hello?  Ambiance?  I mean, I don't need the rose petals, candlelight and the scented oils every time, but gawd.  And speaking of which - Major Germ Haven? Bacteria?  Gross.
  • Hire hookers.  And I don't mean Divine Brown.  I'm talking serious coin.  I don't think I need to tell you that the higher the fee, the weirder the perv.  We're not talking about pretty soap opera sex here, people.  And here's another tip for public servant types - it's called cash.  Small, unmarked bills. Seriously - wire transfers from bank accounts?  Why not just put the whole thing on YouTube.
  • Die - that's right - why let a little thing like death stop ya from running?  DEAD people not only run, but have been ELECTED.  WTF?!
Blog galactic senate So, now we know some of the crap you can pull and still run for Senate.  That's old news.  The fun part for today is telling what you CAN'T do.  As in, what have you all done that would keep you from running for office?  And don't tell Me, Margie that there are no skeletons in your closets.  Honey, I know better.

I'll even start.  First off, there was that summer I helped crew on the Monkey Business II.  At least the Cap was smart enough to ban cameras of all kinds. Because when people are at sea, all bets are off.

And speaking of bets, I've taken a few that were probably a bad idea.  Like 'borrowing' my friend's Dad's car when I was 15.  Might have been better if it had not been the middle of a major snowstorm, or the car had not been a cherry restored Thunderbird convertible that was only taken out for parades.  Or that whole thing with the livestock that somehow wandered into the high school over a long weekend.  Or, y'know the dancing with all those people at the same time with that whole blacklight body painting thing. Or distracting those cops so a friend could, like, break out of jail.  I mean, it was technically a jail, but it didn't have great security, so that one's not really my fault.  Plus, I never got charged with any crime or anything.  Or caught. Never really got caught, which is a total farging shocker in and of itself.  But you know, with the YouTube and the camera phones and the cameras hidden in the ceiling all over the GD place, I gotta assume that someone has enough of this stuff to bite me in the ass.  And not in a good way either.

Let's hear it - even if you wanted to, why can't you run for Senate?

P.S.  Sarah is working on her next book, which is why I'm here on her day.  I do a lot more than answer the phones around here, y'know.

December 19, 2008

Stuff You Can Only Say At the Holidays

Stuff You Can Only Say At the Holidays

By Me, Margie with help from her cousins

Blog vince_vaughn We love the holidays.  It's not just the extra eating and drinking and kissing.  It's not just the fact that every one has a good excuse to party. It's not just the extra chance to see Vince Vaughn on the big screen.  No - it's also the fact that you can say some damn outrageous things and totally get away with it.

I'm serious here.  In fact, I sat down with a few select cousins and some homemade Grappa that one of them brought back from our Calabrese relatives, and we came up with a list.  (One thing about Grappa - you just have to shoot the first one - a big one - straight back - no tasting, as little contact with the tongue as possible - straight down the throat.  We all know how to do that, right?  After that, you won't be able to taste anything any way.)

Let me caution you that our cousin Rita wrote these down, and then Rocco had to try to translate in the morning because Rita was keeping her place very dark and quiet.  So don't blame me.

Just in case you're not really on the train yet, here are some examples from sports.  When you are watching a football game, it's perfectly fine to yell: "Yeah, Baby!  Split those uprights!".  When you are watching golf (who watches golf?) no one blinks when a guy says: "After 18 holes with these three, I can barely walk."  See?  You can't say that stuff in the Narthex. Seriously.

Blog boxers package But at the holidays - which for my family runs from Thanksgiving until the Epiphany - you can spout off all kinds of stuff and not get in trouble. Even from your old, cranky Aunts who still wear black even though their husbands were cheating hounds and they hated them before they died.

Here are some we came up with, and then we want to hear yours:

"She used it so much, the batteries died."

"Stop fighting over the breasts.  They're huge and there's plenty for everyone."

"Wanna see my north pole?"

"Who gets dark meat?"

"If you tie the legs together, it keeps the inside moister."

"Check out Santa's bulging sack."

"You hung out some big balls this year."

"Did you get a piece of that fruitcake?  Yum." (that's Rocco's favorite)

"I like to bite off the curved part and then lick the straight part into a point."

"She needs to lift up the skirt and clean under there."

"Just get on your knees and bob your head."  Oops - that one's for Halloween.  Sorry.

"Sit on my lap and guess what present I have for you."

"Did you get any under the tree?" (that's Rita's favorite)

And my favorite, which I yell at every opportunity:


Blog hung tshirt Now it's your turn.  Don't be shy.  People do all kinds of crazy stuff this time of year.

And Happy Holidays from Me, Margie, my cousins Rocco and Rita, and all the rest of the mixed nuts who make up our family.

December 05, 2008

Female Deer Urine...?

Female Deer Urine..?

By Me, Margie, who thinks this is pretty messed up

Blog do re mi Let's all sing that wonderful song from "The Sound of Music":

Doe, a deer, a female deer
Pee, a drop of golden...

It doesn't really have the same catchiness, does it?  But that's what this product is all about.  Catching things.

Now, I don't want to hear from the NRA or anyone else who has a passionate view on hunting animals.  I just want to talk about how people are doing it.

I mean, really?  Man does not have enough of an advantage, what with the high-powered rifles with scopes so good you could watch someone in the next county brush their teeth; the superior intellect; the opposable thumbs that allow man to construct elaborate tree stands that provide the best vantage point?  Not enough?

No -- man has now stooped to using the oldest trick in the books: the lure of sex.

Blog hungers guide big rack I have cousins who hunt, and believe me when I tell you that it is a much manlier thing to shoot a buck (that's a male deer) than a doe.  In fact - and here's a shocker for everyone, I'm sure - they even measure up against each other by the number of points.  What are points?  Points are the ends of the buck's antlers.  The bigger the antlers, the higher the points.  It's one of the few times you'll hear men rhapsodizing about something other than breasts.  This time of year, when you hear a man say: "Did you see the rack on that one?  F'n A, man", don't go looking for Pamela Anderson.  Check the back of the pick-up, or above the mantle.

You may be asking yourself: "Hey, what does a nice girl like Me, Margie know about deer urine?"  Answer: as little as possible.  But when you're checking out at Dick's (the new double-silk insulated underwear for skiing is to die for) and you see people with bottles marked "Female Deer Urine", it is impossible simply to look the other way.  The first time I saw it, I was so stunned, all I could manage was: "Do they have Buck Urine for the gay deer?"  It took the guy a minute for that to register, because he was trying to look down my sweater, but when it did, he just shrugged and gave me a funny look.  Men can be so dumb.

I think this is grossly unfair.  And no - I didn't smell the stuff.  But I do wonder if Calvin Klein or Ralph Lauren know about this untapped fragrance market.  

Blog buck chasing doe I just think it's going way too far to use not only the weapons with the bullets (or arrows, which is at least evens the playing field a little) but to use sex.  Some simple buck, who, through no fault of his own, is crazed with lust (they call it 'being in rut' - but it just means these poor bastards will do just about anything to get laid) and also running for his life, gets a snoot full of "Come and get me, big boy" and the next thing you know: Boom.  Dead.  Seriously - It's the equivalent of outfitting a bunch of 22-year old girls with tube tops, fishnets and FMPs and letting them loose at a Nerd Convention.  Irresistible.  

I was going to put a big ad in the newspapers warning the deer, but, duh, no one buys newspapers any more.  

So pass the word - next time you see a buck, tell him scents can be deceiving.  Better he should have someone fix him up with a nice doe from the neighborhood. Just saying.

November 14, 2008

Ask Me, Margie

Ask Me, Margie

By, duh, if you have to ask, you really need this new TLC feature

People ask me for advice all the time.  I mean all the freaking time.  I figured probably those of you who only know me online are totally missing out on my expertise, and that's really not fair.  We're all about fair and inclusion and unity now, right?  Uh-huh.  Don't start, and if you want a real lesson on sharing, you ought to peek in on the scene when there's only one serving of baked ziti left, and four cousins.  Just saying.

TLC is proud (I put in that part) to present our newest feature:


It's kind of like a combo of Dear Abby and Judge Judy and Dr. Ruth and Dr. Drew, with a dash of that genius woman from the Sunday paper, that guy Steve who yells at people on his show, and Oprah, all rolled into one.  Talk about a fattie - if you really did roll all that, you'd need either a roach clip the size of a small crane or a hookah, just saying.  I mean, I heard.

I asked some of our backbloggers to help me start this, because even though it would be totally legit journalism to make the letters up (lookin' at you, Penthouse) I'm too busy with real shit.  

One more thing - if all else fails, Josh reminds us of the wise words of John Prine in his classic "Dear Abby" song -- "Dear Troubled, Dear Troubled, You have no complaints.  You are what you are, and you ain't what you ain't."

Blog daniel_craig_shirtless_2 Dear Me, Margie:

This question is about fantasies. I keep having this fantasy. I don't know where it came from, but here it is:

I am walking along along a beach, and a man emerges from the sea in a blue swimsuit and sweeps me off my feet and out of my mundane existence into a world of danger, intrigue and sweaty sheets.

This imagine comes to me, day and night, night and day. Is there something wrong with me?

Please don't use my real name. I'd hate for anyone to figure out who I might be.

Thank you.


Dear Anonymous,

WTF?  Like you couldn't be half the people at TLC.  You've clearly caught yourself a major bad case of Blondbonditis.  It's contagious and the only cure is to see the new Bond Movie, Quantum of Some Fine Ass, which comes out tonight.

And then, of course, plan to spend some quality awake time alone with your, um, thoughts. Just saying

Wishing you great Bondage,
Me, Margie

Dear Margie,

I used to go out with a politician, but he was really busy doing the people's work, so I didn't see him all that often, especially at weddings.  Then he threw me over for someone more politically-well-connected, who works in the D.A.'s office.  

Now he's under indictment. What do you think of that?

Puzzled in a Purple State

Dear Puzzled,

Blog perp walk First - thank your lucky fucking stars that you are rid of this jackass.  Politicians are almost always a bad, bad call.  Except for Barack, who is just too awesome for words, but let's face it, at least half the reason is his kickass wife, Michelle, who would totally be my BFF if she weren't so busy.

Here's your next step to get final closure with this Dbag - you have a few connections, right?  Yeah, you do.  Everyone does.  What you want to do is find out the time and place of the Perp Walk.  Be there with a camera to record him in all his slimy glory.  Then post the sucker all over the net.  Public figure and so forth.  Make sure that his D.A. honey's family gets a nice, clear shot.  To say nothing of the D.A.'s office mates and her boss.

If you're really bitter - and where I come from, that's a given - you could start a rumor that he's very dangerous - has like a black diamond belt in some kind of martial art (not to be confused with a set of black silk belts in marital arts, which is another blog).  They'll cuff him in the back that way, and maybe even pull out the leg chains.  That would be the total shit.  Just saying.

Wishing you great revenge, I mean closure,
Me, Margie


Blog gay wedding cake Dear Me, Margie:

I  just got married, and now a bunch of people voted to make me not married.  Is that possible?  

What should we do now?

Confused in CA

Dear Confused,

Those people are fucking morons.  We've got fanatic nutjobs shooting at us and some shrinky-dinks want to spend energy on saying who can get married?  

Blog gay marriage-equality You need to move you and your income and your tax dollars and your love and energy to a state where people have TLC (tolerance, love, compassion) at least until the judge types sort this out.  

See, if I were on the Supreme Court of the World- which I totally should be, except I think you might have to be a judge or a lawyer or something first - which sucks - I would pull a total Judge Judy on their collective asses and tell them to shove it sideways until their useless brains fall out.  Then I'd use my judginess to marry everyone who wants to get married, as long as they, like, love eachother and already had sex.  

Because seriously - you don't want to be around that much negative mojo - it's just plain bad for ya. Keep your family together and get the hell out.  I mean, if J-Day comes, you don't want to be anywhere near that mess.  Just saying.

Congrats on the marriage and my best wishes for a long one.
Me, Margie

See how this works?  So you go right ahead and put your questions in the comments right here.  I'll either answer them today, or I'll include them in a future blog.  Or you can send me an e-mail at: askmemargie@hotmail.com.  And no, I will not send you guys at the Texas MinSec a photo, so stop asking.


Coming this weekend on TLC:

Saturday, Elaine Viets provides a warning for those who might be scammed.
Sunday, William Simon and Kathy Sweeney talk Bond music.

November 02, 2008

Margie's Top 5 Reasons To Vote

Margie's Top Five Reasons to Vote

Blog vote pin

Dear all people who are reading this nice blog on this fine day:

Listen up.  This campaign has gone on waaaaaaaaaay too long.  There is only one way to get this thing over with and start, like, fixing all the major league shit that is wrong in this fiasco of a charlie foxtrot.

You have to vote.  That's right - YOU. Don't go looking around like I'm talking to somebody else.  I'm talkin' to you.  You see anyone else?  I didn't think so.

Everybody has to vote.  Just do it, savvy?

And if you need a reason, pick one of the following:

5.  It's your right and your responsibility.  That means if you don't get your ass out to vote, don't go bitching to me or anyone else.  You want your government to follow the rules?  Then you have to follow them too, and Rule Numero Uno is VOTE.  Capisce?

Blog sba-arrested 4.  People totally died and went to jail and everything so you could vote.  This is no joke.  It's for real, and if you don't believe it, use the google on Women's Suffrage and Jim Crow laws and other really embarrassing events in US history. Man, our forefathers had some screwy laws.  I mean, if you think that new show with the talking car -  but no Hoff - is awful, take a look at some of this election crapola.  Seriously.

3.  Can't vote because you are Undecided?  Are you fucking kidding me?  Unless you've been in a coma for the last year (a real coma, not a soap opera coma) there is no excuse for not making up your damn mind.  Read something.  Check the candidates websites.  Good gawd, y'all, get a freakin' clue.

2.  This is serious ass shit.  I mean it this time.  When people say this is the most important election of your lifetime, they mean business.  Because, you know, most of you are old.  Me?  I'll have other big elections.  Does that mean I'm waiting around for one?  NFW.  I'm voting.  And do not give me some whiny-face muck about 'oooh, I might have to stand in line or wait or something'.  Get your head out of your ass.  If you can wait in line for a cup of overpriced coffee, you can wait to vote, dumbass.

1.  And the number one reason to vote:


My parents used that one all the time.  But unlike my parents, I'm not going to waste time trying to reason with you, or get up in some positive or negative reinforcement jackass behavioral bullshit.  I'll just show up at your house and roundhouse your ass into next week.  Just saying.

And have a nice day.

Warmest personal regards,

Me, Margie

October 17, 2008

Margie's Story Time: The Non-Fairy Tale

Margie's Non-Fairy Tale

By Me, Margie

Blog enchanted-sleepingbeauty1 It has come to the attention of Me and my cousin Rocco that people are living in some kind of fantasy world.  I tend to blame various controlled substances and Rocco blames stereotypes in children's literature. Those sound like very sophisticated positions, don't they?  What it means is that I think too many people are half-whacked most of the time and Rocco thinks we are setting innocent little kids up for massive disappointments by reading to them.

We were going to have a debate, but it's hard for our people to debate without video.  The hand gestures alone account for a large part of our message, and I think you know what I mean.  Plus, if Rocco says something really dumb, I have to smack him, and then you have to tell the kids about no hitting, which raises questions about the magazines, and it's just better not to go there.  Seriously.

Instead, we decided to write a story.  Kids like stories, which Rocco says is the whole root of the problem.  Meanwhile, I have to point out that kids need to read and no one is dumb enough to want to start with like freaking Willy Shakes with little kids, and you can only read Dr. Seuss so many times before you start talking in that goofy way all the time, which is bad if you want people to take you seriously.  Just saying.

Rocco will now tell a story:

Once upon a time, there was a Fairy.  The fairy was very sparkly and beautiful and it told lovely stories with happy endings.  Then one day, the Fairy came home early and found the handsome prince doing the bada bing with some tramp from the other forest.  The Fairy bashed them both upside their lying, cheating heads until they died and then burned the house down before CSI could get there.  The end.

Okay, that's not a very good story, Rocco, and I'm sorry that your last boyfriend turned out to be a total pig but guess what, not everything is about you, okay? Let's try to focus on a real story.  I will start this time.

Once upon a time, grown-ups told stories called Fairy Tales.  These Fairy Tales usually involved some helpless (but breathtakingly gorgeous, to say nothing of totally stacked) princess, who got herself into a big mess, like a coma.  Which is weird, because comas are not exactly great ways to spend time, but whatev.  Any way, the princess was always saved from the Villain (usually an Evil Queen dressed in black, with a creepy face so, like, all you have to do is take one look and you know  -  uh-oh - Bad Stuff Comin') by a handsome prince.

What, Rocco?  Oh right.  The Handsome Princes had a thing for tights.  The Prince would swoop in, and slay the villain and kiss the Princess (Rocco says no tongue, and he's right) and they would live happily ever after, especially if the prince was McDreamy.  

Rocco totally agrees but he says nobody lives happily ever after with no tongue, but this is a children's story, so we're going to consider that part of the commentary that you can only get in the unrated special edition.

Well, you can guess what happened.  Too many girls and boys spent way too much time expecting to be kissed and rescued.  That is bad.  Except for special doctors called Therapists, who love, love, love the Fairy Tales because it totally guarantees them new business.

Then some people wrote some big books about the Cinderella Complex and how they are bad because they don't empower women.  Which means that The Man is always trying to keep us women down by making us think we're weak.  Rocco says it applies to men too, and he is totally right.  

So, some other people wrote other stories, about princesses who didn't need to be saved, because they took care of themselves, plus they really didn't have time to be stroking up the princes', uh, egos, because they had jobs.  Which some princes didn't like because then they had time to realize they were wearing freaking tights, for freak's sake, and tights are the stupidest things to wear in the winter or in the forest, or anywhere, really, because seriously?  You don't know who has been sitting in that chair besides Goldilocks, know what I'm sayin'?  

Rocco says, no duh, Goldilocks was the original Furry, right?  Not that there is anything wrong with that.  Rocco, listen Dude, if you are going to tell stories to kids, you need to be careful, okay?  You can't say just anything that pops in your head.  Kids aren't dumb, like a lot of your friends, okay?  They ask questions.  Geez.  

Blog Princess Bride Then other people wrote stories that were meant to look like fairy tales for empowered women - but it's hard to really do that with a hooker, even if she does have a heart of gold and so forth.  And some people said: "Hey!  Inigo Montoya, anyone?  Anyone?  You killed my father, prepare to die."  Which of course is from The Princess Bride, which rocks.  And still others said: "We don't need to choose whether to be a helpless princess or a powerful princess, we can be BOTH, depending on what kind of mood we're in, and step away from the M&Ms, jack."  Which is true and having choices is, like, basic for life.

So, to sum up.  There are good fairies and bad fairies.  There are good stories and bad stories.  This story, for example, sucks big time because I swore to my cousin Rita that I wouldn't bring up politics and all I want to do is run around screaming at people.  

A Princess can be whatever she wants.  If she feels like taking a nap, she should be able to do it without worrying about whether there's a damn pea in there, or that some nad is going to try to kiss her.  And a Prince should be able to fight dragons if he wants, or paint dragons, or dress up like a dragon.  Everyone needs to chill on the whole label thing and remember that good is good and evil is evil, and if you don't know the difference, you need to get your ass to my neighborhood and we'll tell you.  Oops. I mean, you best bring your bum.

The end.

P.S.  Did you know we have blogs on the weekend?  Good ones too.  Coming up this weekend:

Joanna Campbell Slan writes about a garden-variety murder on Saturday, Oct. 18.
On Sunday, October 19, Taffy Cannon, author of 14 books and a professional organizer, helps TLC solve the mystery of organizing your personal library.

September 26, 2008

Margie's Story Time: The Big Economy That Couldn't

Margie's Story Time: The Big Economy That Couldn't

By Me, Margie, who totally cannot believe this is happening.... again

Hello boys and girls. Today we are going to tell a story about something very important. It's called The Economy and it is worth a story because it can make people feel all kinds of big time emotions. Like happiness, or sadness, or anger, or the desire to crawl into a big glass of brown medicine and stay there for a week.

I am telling this story so that my nieces and nephews can understand, because the first story I wrote had so many bad words in it that my bosses made me cross them all out and all that was left were a couple of articles and intransitive verbs. So here is the new version from Aunt Margie's Big Book of Stories.

Long ago, in a country that seems far, far away, there was a little economy. The economy ran on things like crops and steel and coal and rail roads and other things you can grow or mine or manufacture. It became strong, because when you build with actual things you can touch, the foundation is real, not pretend. It chugged along, happy and healthy, like all little things do at the beginning of the story.

Blog_darth_maulThe little economy grew and grew and then some greedy bas - I mean, some selfish people decided to start selling things that weren't real. Some of the things were based on fraud - which is lying - and some based on real things, like loans that had collateral. Collateral means a something like a favorite toy that you exchange to borrow money. When you pay the money back, you get your toy back.

That is fine, but then some rat bas - I mean some clever people who wanted to make more money than just the regular interest rate put all those kinds of loans together in a big box and then mashed into a sold block of stuff you can't recognize and then the block is sliced up into a million pieces that are sold and traded until no one remembers that you actually had a collector's edition Darth Maul, new in box, and good luck getting it back. Oops, that was a negative thought, wasn't it? We need positive thoughts to help our little economy grow, don't we? And for those of you who fail to see the value in Darth Maul, three words: Double. Sided. Lightsaber. Oh yeah.

Well, the little economy was young and eager, and it didn't know about scams or - as some people called them - speculative investments. And the economy grew and grew, like a a big balloon, and then one day - oops. The balloon popped. It's always sad when a pretty balloon pops, isn't it? So imagine this balloon has everything you like in it - like your house and your food and your clothes and your will to live. When the balloon pops, all those things go bye-bye. That is not good. That is very, very bad.

So the government (We all remember the government, right? Those are the people we elect to represent all of us. Sometimes government people will say one thing when they want you to vote for them and another thing after the election. It can be very frustrating and that is why some people go totally Postal, but that is another story) decided that the economy needed help, and some people needed a time out. Aunt Margie thinks some people needed to be smacked upside their lying, greedy heads, but we don't hit, do we? No. What? Yes, well some people DO like hitting but only for fun and let's remind ourselves never to tell our moms and dads about those magazines you found under Uncle Billy's bed? Right. That is a big, big secret.

So the government passed laws that said 'this will not happen again and we are going to make you people in the economy tell us what is going on, and plus there is a difference between brokers and bankers and don't you forget it, buster.' It took the government a lot more words to say that, but the whole idea was to learn from the mistakes and make sure no big balloons popped again.

It came to pass that the economy started to grow again. How did it grow? Well, kids like you grow big and strong because you eat the right things, and stay healthy, and don't do drugs and drink your milk. Some of you will grow tall and some of you will stop growing in 10th grade, which is bad except you can keep all your shoes forever and they will still fit.

Well, the economy grew - but not by doing those good things. Instead of eating vegetables and home-made steel and other good things, the economy was chowing down on stuff no one had ever heard of before. And if you have a big dinner of hedge fund with a side of short puts and a big carafe of no-doc variable rate mortgage-backed funds, you will have something worse than a really bad stomach ache.

And the government? Well, the government was getting bigger too, because people were taking it out to dinner at fancy restaurants, buying it drinks, and trying to convince it to do things that weren't really a good idea. Yes, just like your cousin Rita's dates. I am glad to see you are listening.

And the next thing you know, some of those laws they passed went away and the other ones had so many loopholes that they looked like someone took the scissors to a pair of fish nets. Which we don't do. We never use the big scissors without a grown up and we never, ever go back into Aunt Margie's dresser, okay?

Blog_jabbaWell, with no one watching it, the economy kept eating and getting bigger. It was gorging on all that bad stuff, plus a lot of Chinese food that had lead in it or something. Lead is worse than MSG, just saying. Pretty soon, instead of looking like Luke Skywalker or Princess Leia, the economy looked like Jabba the Hut.

I know, right? Totally gross. Now, you would think that the people working right there with the big economy would say something like, "Yo, Dude, you need to cut back on the toxic waste and all that high priced oil, and eat some damn broccoli or something. And how about taking the stairs every once in a while?" But no. Instead, they kept feeding the economy more and more bad crap.

Well, we all know what happened next, don't we? Ka- Boom! The balloon burst again, except this time, the balloon was filled with all that rotten stuff the economy had been eating. Kind of like when you puke, except really, really big. Ewwww, is totally right.

The pukey stuff went everywhere, and everything started to stink. Bad. People acted shocked, as if no one knew the bad stuff was in there. Duh. People can be very dumb.

So now, the government people are having a big argument about how to fix the economy. Most of them don't even want to figure out what happened because they are in a BIG FREAKING HURRY to act like they know what's up and tell all the people no worries, we'll fix it, but it has to be now, because, like, we have vaca plans. Like we're stupid. Oh, sorry. We don't say stupid. How about stone ass- oops. Well, you get the idea.

Some people want pretend we have a lot of money to just throw around like a big blanket so we can pretend there is not a big stinky mess under it. Some people - and this is Aunt Margie's favorite, because it is like, so amazingly ballsy that even though it's an insult to anyone with a brain, it takes real guts to even say it. They want us - all the people - to give them a blank check for zillions of dollars to buy the big pukey mess that isn't worth anything. You know, the stuff that reeked so bad that no one would buy it? Uh-huh. That stuff. And they want to use some of our money to pay themselves big bonuses for trashing the whole system. Right, because if you set your McDonalds on fire because you forgot to change the fry oil, they'd give you a nice gold watch and a trip to the Bahamas. Which would be really hilarious if it weren't so IDIOTIC.

Hand Aunt Margie her pretty glass with the lime in it, okay? That's better. We all remember not to drink out of Aunt Margie's special glasses, right? Good. Have some more koolaid. I made sure your cousin Petey didn't put any Robitussin in there this time. Fridays are not a good night for sleepovers at Aunt Margie's house. She has other special friends coming.

Any way, it's a big, big mess, and a very sad story. And Moms and Dads and Aunts and Uncles are very nervous and upset and very, very angry. So if I were you, I'd stay in my room and not ask whether you can go to ToysRUs.

The end.