Sarah Palin

When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother what will I be?
Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?
Here's what she said to me

Que Sarah, Sarah
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que Sarah, Sarah

When I grew up and became Gov
I asked Todd Palin, what lies ahead?
Will I ruin the chance for McCain to be Pres?
Here's what the bastard said

Que Sarah, Sarah
You let the whole country see
What an idiot you could be
Que Sarah, Sarah

Then I decided on my own
Alaska could bite me, I'm moving on
I could be President, I could be Queen
The sky is the limit for me

Que Sarah, Sarah
Apparently you can't see
Your career is now history
Que Sarah, Sarah
What will be, will be.

I'm Almost There

Ron and I finally took the plunge. We traded in our dinosaurs for a new Blackberry (him) and a new Smartphone (me). Being the technologically challenged person that I am, getting up and running on my phone was like scaling the side of a rocky cliff wearing a pencil skirt and stilettos. Ron, on the other hand, just carried his Blackberry to work with him and let a tech-savvy co-worker set it up. It probably took the guy all of eighteen seconds. He would have done it faster, but just for sport, he did it blindfolded, using only the fourth toe of his left foot. I, on the other hand, struggled for hours and Josh, from Verizon tech support, will be spending Christmas with us this year. I still haven't seen the top of the mountain yet, but I have a dream...that one day when I'm in the Cash Cab, and I'm stumped, I can phone a friend. Or...I can cheat, by just Binging the answer with my Smartphone.

Here's To Ya!

OMG! Has it been a whole year since I left the dysmorphic confines of the City County building? Time flies!
So join me in a toast to the CC building and it's wonderful, multi-stalled bathrooms...because, really, who doesn't want to do their business in one of those lovely places? Privacy would have afforded dignity, and dignity was completely against government policy. The only alternative was to hold it 'til you got home and that was just plain unhealthy, and could have resulted in an even greater loss of dignity. Salute!

The Victim and The Abuser

It Could Always Be Worse

Just back from a little vacation in Tunica with Ron, where we were able to combine two of our favorite pastimes: gambling and golf. Sure, it was sweltering on those golf courses, but that didn't stop us, just like bad luck didn't stop us from gambling. In other words, we didn't win any jackpots. I did finally cash in one poker tourney, but it was for fifth place and it didn't come close to making me solvent. Oh well. Maybe next time.

I did begin to feel lucky at one point while I was there - lucky just to be alive after hearing about those three celebrity deaths. Every time I walked back into the hotel room and turned on the t.v., someone else had died. What a week! Any one of those people would have gladly traded places with me, so there are worse things than losing money at the poker table. At least that's what I told myself, over and over. I'm alive! I'm broke as shit, but I'm alive!

Not Time To Worry Yet

The most ominous player at the 2009 U.S. Open at Bethpage Golf Course is the weather. They ("they" being the state of New York, since it's a public course located in a state park) spent the last three years getting the course ready for this spectacular event, only to get upstaged by the weather. On the first day, not long after the first golfers teed off, the skies opened up and drenched the players, the caddies, the spectators (including my friend, Kenny), the officials, the fairways, the greens...anything that wasn't protected by walls and a roof. The unlucky pros who drew the morning rounds and tried to feel their way through the course before the Big Guy blew his proverbial horn to stop play were at a distinct disadvantage from the pros who began their first rounds the next afternoon. By then, the course had dried out considerably and it was birdies and pars all around.
Tiger happens to be my favorite golfer and he also happened to get terribly unlucky this year because he was one of the ones who had to play in the soggy conditions. He may just barely make the cut. He won't cry about it though, at least not on camera, but I'll bet he's more than a little pissed. Especially since his main rival (or is that just in my mind?) Phil Mickelson got the better draw. Phil didn't have to contend with all the crap that Tig and those other boys did. How fair is that? I think they should have tried to even things up by making the afternoon groups play their first rounds wearing snow skis. Then we'd see how many of those sub-par rounds they'd be posting.
I'm still not counting Tiger out. He's just ten or twelve back with two rounds to go. It's not out of his realm of possibility.

No Clients Hurt

"It wasn't really a hold up. Sure, I was carrying a twelve-gauge shotgun when I walked into that bank, but I didn't actually shoot anybody. Come on!"

"Fuck it, as soon as I get back on my feet, I'll give some of the money back. Alright? Now you assholes get out of here and let me do my job. I'm the god damn Law Director!"