Thanksgiving Parades are Not What They Used to Be.

I remember the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade so different long ago.

When I was a child, we used to sit in from of our TV set in our jammies with the feet attached, earlier than we'd ever be voluntarily. But, floats! And balloons! Bullwinkle and Underdog with that always limp hand being dragged earthbound by tiny tiny people in colorful sweaters. It was a wonderful and the highlight of the season, apart from Christmas.

So today, I decided to make a Turkey breast and stuffing for myself and the kitten...oh yeah, I have a kitten...which I'll tell you about later. So, anyway, I decided to watch the parade whilst I make the Turkey.

And things...have changed. So, I'm writing this live.

For one thing, I must now place the word "parade" in parenthesis. It's been on for over half an hour and I haven't seen a float nor a balloon, unless it's being slash cut from to Al Rokker sitting in the crowds asking if they're enjoying themselves. All I've seen are stupid song and dance numbers from the same spot, Matt lauer looking like an orangutan with that cropped haircut. And, how many marching bands can you really see? Not as if there's anything different from band to band aprt for the uniforms.

The real "parade" starts in 18 minutes they say, but first, "Under da Sea" stage play performance. It's like a Broadway extended commercial. I think the whole thing started to go downhill when they had the Mayor of the parade, or the king of Turkey, I really don't know, and some chick both cut the ribbon to start the festivities. Firstly, the siccors are huge, then when they are going to cut the ribbon...it was mimed...and someone off camera just dropped the ribbon! Was the ribbon going to be saved for next year? That was a harbinger of doom, I think.

Oh! Nothing says Thanksgiving like Harry Connick Jr. in a helicopter describing what he sees from up there. Everyone the hosts speak to go off like a paid commercial brake. Rokker talked to some girl from Heroes, and informed me it's on 8:00pm Mondays, 7 central.

9:48 am - I am told that it wouldn't be a Macy's "parade" without the high kicking legs of the Radio city Rockeetes. I always though it was turkey and floats, so I have been put in my place apparently. They're performing at the entrance to Macy's, like every other act I've endured so far. Just realized that this Macy's "Parade" is a Macy's promotional flier on my TV screen. How many years did that take for that to sink in? Still to come: Clay Aiken, James Taylor, and teen sensation Mylie Cyrus. No mention of a "parade"...

10:00am - the "parade" begins thank good...with a gaggle of clowns? A Balloon!!!! A Macy's balloon celebrating themselves, but a balloon nevertheless! The effigies of Pilgrim man and Pilgrims woman are marched out, and they say, they're unoffical, so they should be escorted off then, right? Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. And a cutaway to the hosts for most of that. A Smurf float! Haven't seen them since skinny ties and Gary Glitter. A smurf balloon, with the fun fact that 30,000 smurfs can fit inside. Ah, there's a Smurf movie is coming out soon, and Matt says's it'll be "Smurfy, and that's a fact!".

Slam on those "parade" brakes! James Taylor is going to sing. I so do love live lip singing. He's done, the float driver pops the clutch, and the "parade" continu...no....commercial. Next up, some generic infectionous boy-pop band will lip sync.

Baton twirling all stars. A Snoopy float with a live Beagle on board, who happens to be showing off his massive swingin' junk. Obviously cold weather doesn't effect dogs. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. A Disney Commercial float of Bolt...and Mylie Cyrus miming a performance, so the "parade" stops again. Nothing is more pathetic than those throngs of kids on floats force to wave for miles. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising.

Hula dancing all stars. An odd float of a rhinoceros rock and guys climbing all over it's face, like parasites on a real rhino in the wild! And just like the wild, Shauntel is pretend singing in front of it all. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. We are to say "ola' to Dora the Explorah, on her hugeass balloon. A very disturbing Harajuko Girls float...Japanese little girls with oversize heads and squinty eyes. No joke. Energizer Bunny float...and, he's not moving!!! He might be dead, because that's not like him at all!

The Harley Beats Jumprope team all stars. Sesame Street float, and... crap...with piano virtuoso "LongLong" (?) on board. Can I have a float without a frikin musician, please? OMG! Bob from Sesame Street is still alive?! He must be like 328 years old! Abby Kadaby balloon. Never heard of her. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. Hello Kitty Balloon. Looks like the Abby balloon with a re-dress. My Princess Academy float...and hey! A song with some more cookie cutter teen sensations on board. What the hell? Why even bother holding microphones?

10:30am - Big Apple Circus juggling all stars. Mr. Peanut in his Nutmoble. Didn't I see all that with the beagle float? A float of NYC, with the cast of dirty hippies singing "Age of Aquarius". Unfortunatly, you can't dress like that today without being branded gay. Horses with really fat cops on top. A bent over, looking like he's taking a painful stool drop, Ronald McDonald balloon.

American Dance Theater all stars. A heart balloon. Not the rock band. A bridge float...with "Push-Play" singing straight off a mp3 player. The heart balloon almost killed Meridith and Matt, proving there is a God, and he just gave them a stern warning. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. M&M float...with a Wicked performance. Is every float going to be infested with these singers like deer ticks? A Pincachu balloon, with a quick shot of hundreds of children falling into seizures in the streets. Okay, that's just creative dreaming.

Some kinda American Idol runner up singing on a float of a starship made by a cartoon dog. Seems like justice, i guess. And this is the first time we didn't come back from a commercial brake to some kind of "all stars". Buzz Lightyear balloon. I'm stoked! Foster's home for Imaginary Friends float!!! And i become unstoked just as quickly when they start to sing..and restoked when Rick Astley jumps out and sings "Never gonna give you up"! This is the best "parade" ever! Rick-rolling Macy's!

11:00am - Latin spirited Dance team all stars. A steamboat float with giant bobble heads. Awaiting a songmaker on board...yep...16 year old phenom Charese. NBC's stink is all over this "parade", as the fakey mikes these people sing into has their logo.

Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. Spongebob balloon and he has a maniac smile like he has a few bodies in his basement and planning to make a human skin suit. A Jimmy Dean float with Trace Atkins singing some crap, and no evidence of sausages, unless I'm missing a beagle somewhere on there. A pirate balloon, and the telecasters are going straight to hell due to their "arrgh matey" imitations to go on way too long.

Indian dance all stars in polyester. The "dean of green" Kermit the Frog balloon. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. An uncle Sam balloon, chasing...two balls? What are they trying to say? US postal service float, so we all have a boy-band scattin away upon it. Talk about chasing bawls. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. A nice replica of the statue of Liberty float...and no singer?! This is an outrage!

Harold the Fireman balloon. No idea. Business men in suits aping "Stripes". Did they think I wouldn't know? Big Apple float (NYC float numbah two), with the prerequisite singer, Ashanti. For a brief second, I sware I was looking for the "FF" button on my remote. Beethoven the dog balloon, I guess replacing the old Clifford the big red Dog balloon this year. Gibson guitar float with a former Hootie, from the blowfish tribe.

11:30am - Special Needs color guard all stars. A clown balloon, which is one of the signs of End of Days. Some kind of bear float with a singer. Hang on! Wasn't she Summer from School of Rock? Damn, her voice is heavily modulated. Shrek balloon. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising.

Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. Horton Hears a Who balloon. Care Bears float? Are they even known nowadays? They're probably selling blood for booze and hash in Amsterdam right now. More singers stapled onto floats. The bears are ice skating. I'm in hell.

11:45am - home stretch. Kermit again? He's tiny now, and he's singing on a log. That means reality collapsed on itself, doesn't it? Can't get over the fact there's a man scrunched up inside the log with his hand up the frogs bum. Lots of misques, then Andy Williams is dug up, hosed off, and wheeled into the courtyard to lipsing a Christmas song. Oh. A marching ...you get the picture.

Santa arrives for the release! He's surrounded by people dressed like Thing #1 and #2 from the Cat in the Hat, and 3 "Helium Elves", which I guess means they "huff". I am so done and ready to eat...I suffered so you wont have to.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Bible of the Bro (part deux)

A bit back, I did promise to expound my wisdom about the male condition to all my female readers. I thought being a "scab" would automatically ostracize me from the ranks of bro-dom. And, sad to say, fear took a grip upon me like I was a lone rebel upon the Deathstar...

How typically male of me! I didn't realize that since my site does have breasts or sports statistics, NO male would ever visit it! This page is like a forgotten realm that anyone with hangy down parts wil never trespass. There's just not enough testosterone to sustain a dudes "dude-atude". He's either have to embrace the fact that he has feelings, or wither and die in the most dramatic way a sick male can. (you ladies with "all man", beer and firetrucks, boyfriends know all about what happens when he gets a tiny sniffle. Hell, I do that too!)

So, once again i'm going to let out the secret handbook of being a "dude":

And in the tradition of a standard bible, i'm bringing today, the Psalms part...

• Never watch the movie "The Notebook"
• No phone conversations in a public restroom.
• Never dress to match your girlfriend or wife.
• Two men should never walk down the street under the same umbrella.
• No man should ever ride bitch on an other man's motorcycle. (oh, Dr. Jones! How could you?!)
• Under no circumstances is any man allowed to send an emoticon ;-) =) :-p etc. to another man.
• You can't narc out a buddy for showing up to work hungover. You can however harass him as much as possible.
• A man must never wear a Speedo in public. The exceptions are water polo players, secret agents, and dudes who are tough enough to kick everyone's ass.
• If you need to change in a public bathroom use the stall
• No man shall ever feed or be fed by another man, unless the recipient of said feeding is physically or mentally handicapped, or otherwise restricted in any way that prevents feeding oneself.
• There is no reason for a man to watch men's figure skating or men's gymnastics. Ever.
• Unless you're in prison, never fight naked
• No man should ever speak badly about bacon, handguns, beer, Batman, or sex.
• No man shall ever work another man's BBQ unless specifically asked to.
• No man shall have any kind of fuzzy decoration on, or in, his car.
• "If" your girlfriend or wife finds your porn, cop to it. In fact be proud. Real men are not ashamed of watching porn. If your mom finds it, blame someone else.
• No man shall ever be required to buy another man a birthday gift. In fact, even remembering you're buddies birthday is strictly optional.
• If you bring beer to a party and need to leave, the beer stays.
• No man shall complement another mans entire wardrobe, only on individual items of clothing.
• Unless in the entertainment industry, no man shall wear makeup.
• No man shall ever use another mans chap stick. And especially never comment on how it tastes.
• Never call another man while you are taking a dump... A picture message with your cell phone is however acceptable.

Something else I should dispel about men: Although we say no man shall ever touch another mans crotch, by simply using a balled up fist and a quick action, it's not only acceptable, but hilariously fun. But, really, don't we all know why we wanted to "hit" a guy in the jewels in the first place? A little honesty, gentlemen, please.

And finally, no man shall never nickname himself. If you do need to nickname a buddy, the following names are restricted:

Farrah Feelings, Cuddles, Francesca Frenchbraid, Prissytoes, Pippy Premenstrual, Ponyboy, Lee Pressons, Puppyeyes, Marlene Maxipad, Nipples-o-plenty, Sherry Showercap, Frita Fallopian, Sugarqueen, Margaret Goodetiquette, Pinchy Cheeks, Holly Haircurlers, Bunny Corsetzipper, Lashonda Tamponda, Fruitytootie, Fairy Sugartushy, Shannon Sparkles-Like-a-Star, Rainbowfeather, Sissy Glittermuff, McPrancertons, Flowerpanties, Jill Massengill, Stubby, Bellatrix Cervix: Dominatrix for Hire, Swishy McSashay, and Girly Von Curtsy!

No need to hide this now, so go to work and play with these rules with all your guy friends!

Halloween is Officially Dead

When you're driving to the Library at 3pm in the afternoon, the last thing you expect to see are tons of children in costumes being dragged about by parents with fairy wands walking about like the living dead Apocalypse... except with candy and in daylight.

And it wasn't even Halloween yet! Blasphemy!!!

I know last Halloween I was bitching about how the holiday wasn't like it was, with a pall of danger in the air and slow moving cars that would drop children off at very lighted doorways in a quasi special ops drop zone mission. But now, we're not only doing the halloweening in midday, but not even on the 31st!?

Are parents hoping that by not even trick or treating on all hallows eve, that maybe they'll fool all those hidden evil people who insert razor blades into popcorn balls? I always figured, even as a child, that putting foreign objects into a popcorn ball or apple "treat" was way too much trouble and hard work to go through to ruin a child's holiday. It's easier to just give out pennies or toothbrushes, isn't it? Always ruined mine. Hell, those "fun" sized candies was enough insult. Fun, I guess, is the size of a baby's thumb. And really, did anyone one get to urge to rush home and take a big ol' bite of the green or orange colored ball of popcorn?

Come to think of it, no one has ever thought to check those eggs on Easter that the youngsters just find on the lawn. Here's a big clue: Bunnies don't lay eggs. They're stolen merchandise. And If I was a bunny trying to hide me eggy treasures, I think I'd booby trap a few to discourage any pilferage from the evil humans broodlings. And no sane parent would let a scruffy old homeless guy brake into your home and give an unmarked boxed item to a child, but lets forget about all caution come December 25th as long as he wears red and is "jolly". I don't trust the demand that you get a free gift if you only sit on his lap.

But Halloween. It's now not safe.

No longer do you see those plastic half masks and satin-y costumes. The trend for teens now is slutty versions of normal attire. I saw a lot of teen girls walking about today with "sexy football" costumes. These were just tights, a tiny mid-cut tee with a random number on it, and a black slash makeup under the eyes. Want more proof?

Oh, and Feel a bit ashamed.

I saw a little girl dressed in a plushy white tube and surrounded with some slabs of cardboard and a string dragging on the ground. I am very very ashamed, but I thought she was dressed as a tampon with a cardboard applicator. My first thought was that her parents are very cruel hateful people. Most parents who are cheapasses, just dress you up as a hobo, a gypsy, or even a ghost/klansman like I was inadvertently so long ago. And that's when I became even more ashamed...

I finally figured out she was supposed to be a vanilla wafer and one of her straps for a wafer half just broke. But com'on! That was either a incredibly brilliant visionary costume, or mom and dad just don't know what a vanilla wafer is supposed to look like. I guess it could have been worse, and they could have tried to dress her up as a ding-dong with black-face. I probably would have gone to hell for that one.

So, Halloween is officially dead.  Boo.

And thanks to costumes like these, Not only am I not scared of Freddy Krugger, I'm kinda looking forward to a dream visit...

The Grocery List

I'm a dude, but somehow, it's quite entertaining to go shopping for food and crap!

the only rules are to never go grocery shopping when you're hungry, or just got paid: You'll never get out alive. Trust me. It's a deadly social trap. So, for today's blog, I shopped, and made notes! Exciting! I know!!

But, let me get this off of my chest right now. Parking.

Some of the worst drivers are trolling the parking lots of America's food stores. You see old bee hived women, or more to the point, a pair of knuckles on a huge steering wheel of a boat of a car, and I hear the theme from jaws as they moto about like an evil flying Dutchman of death. Oh, I have been hit by old people in these lots before, and I was walking. Fell over the back trunk of this Volvo, and the elderly gentleman had the nerve to give me the stink-eye! Like my plan was to stage dive his wax job! Parents say don't play in traffic: nay, don't walk about in shopping parking lots.

Shall I even go into those trucks, vans and hummers that park in those little "compact" labeled parking spaces? Some even park in two spots diagonally so you cant park next to them. Say, doesn't the market have raw eggs? Hmm...

On with the ritual of wrestling a plastic cart free from it's brethren! A quick scan of it's interior to make sure there are no used diapers, empty coffee cups, or a used corn dog stick inside, then onward through those amazing magical Star Trek self opening doors.

I'm told these door are to keep critters out. I don't see how. Anything over an ounce will open the doors. Maybe bees and deer ticks? I have seen stray dogs wandering markets before...

They got v8 juice and "healthy choice" v8 juice. Was there something unhealthy about the previous regular one? One rotten vegetable maybe. Or a finger from a bottling accident, who knows? Kind of makes you wanna go "healthy".

Lookie! Books for sale that promise to make you thin, tell your sex horoscope, gamble a winning shot machine or lotto, and a newspaper that says Bigfoot stole another wife. They sell a book of baby names for 10 bucks. Hey guess what you already got a huge one at home for free: the phone book.

Female hygiene. I think it's so unfair you ladies get a whole aisle to yourselves. guys have to share theirs with band aids, and motor oil. I view the huge selections of the douche, and i see lemon flavored, then i see vinegar Same flavors that go on fish. I'm just saying. I did see hand lotion in the "men's" section. I'm just saying.

It did however say on it, "best for skin".

And here's some odorless deodorant. Hey great, Ill smell like nothin', and it'll cost me 10 bucks. Wait, why do pregnancy tests come in multi packs? Don't people believe the first one, or is it the "ho" pack?

The cheese products are nasty. And screw the "cheese food", which isn't real cheese at all, but might be "real (tm)" cheese...which just confuses everyone who isn't lactose intolerant. You got the following: cheese nips, cheese logs, cheese balls, cheese puffs, cheese whizz. I like to get some of each then go home and put whizz on my nips, balls and log. This might be too much info. Carry on...

Pet aisle. They got 300 flavors of cat food but no...bird, squirrel, mouse head or stinky sock? I ate catfood once when I was tired and thought that the Tinder Viddels box was Cheerios's. Took just one milky taste to wake my ass up. Cats like this?! Thats what a dead sparrow tastes like?

Frozen foods. They got "new york brand" Texas toast. Well then, it ain't Texas toast, now is it? It's new york friken toast. And, why are all diet products triple chocolate fudge flavored? Shouldn't they be carrot or lettuce flavored. That's kinda like heroin flavored methadone.

I find it racist that we still have a section called "mexican food". So, I guess, if i see a mexican person I'm supposed to go up to them and say, "NO, NO Pedro. Your food is over there...". I did see an asian section with loads of noodles, so I think human rights are catching up. Someday, I have a dream of selections for Swedes and Canadians, with flaming meatballs and backbacon, smokes, and poutine (look it up, it's so gross that it makes blood sausage look edible).

Then again, black people complain that Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben don't represent them. But seriously, what do we have? The Quaker oats guy, Orville Riddenbacker and the brawny towel guy? A geek, a guy from outer space and a seventies porn star! And you see cool mags like Ebony, but no magazines called "Whitebread Dork" or "Cracker Slacker". I guess just that markets are against affirmative action.

I just passed by a woman with a loaf of wonder bread in her cart and some tins of Whisker Lickin's. I guess she's making catfood sandwiches tonight. And it reminds me I'm here to buy food.

They have spaghetti sauce that is labelled, "flavored with meat"... But what kind of meat? Snake meat? Rat meat? Human meat, like that finger found in the V8? One thing I do have to say: I tried Buffalo meat. Oh. My. God. That was so good! I just knew something as cute and cuddly and fuzzy, had to taste delicious!

"Little Debbie" snack cakes? I mean if she eats this stale sugary crap, she'd be really big fat toothless diabetic Debbie with pink eye and a few missing toes.

And I'm now standing in the market with a full basket of stuff I didn't need, and I totally forgot why I came here in the first place. Dammit...

The Kitten Sisters

I woke up and the two gorgeous ladies were no longer sleeping next to me. So I get up and walk to the kitchen and ask as I round the corner with a smile over inner joy, "Where's my girls?"...

And I am welcomed by the sight of a sleek black kitten sliding to a stop in front of me, quickly followed by a tiger striped kitten half the size, colliding next to her adopted sibling. They mew and prance as they await the morning meal and social event before I have to go to work.

And that's mainly what I've been doing the last month: Watching the two little charges, coming to their rescue while their original parents figure things out. You see, my friend Nikki and her roommate Christine got a kitten, simply because Christine wanted to have a cutie kitty face to rub. This sort of reminds me of those stupid high school girls that want to get pregnant just so they can have a living "doll" to dress up, as they think that would be so cool and cute.

Surprise. Taking care of living things is hard work.

Well, the tiny black kitten rightfully gravitated towards Nikki and her sparkling warm and open personality. So, Christine later got another kitten to be hers. And, guess what happened? When you're a person who can't illicit a real human emotion, pets tend to not wanna hang with you after a while. I suggest fish next time, they can't run away.

Anyway, somehow, thier apartment overlords somehow found out that these fur faces were illegally squatting at thier pad. So, of course, like usual I was called to come to the rescue, and have the kitten sisters live with me for a while.

At first I didn't want too, in fact I was very pissed about it and disn't really know why I was very resistant to the idea. I'd watched the tiny blackie for a week once: she ate my earphones. But, dammit, I did it for my brilliant friend Nikki, and the kittens came to me.

After a week, I knew exactly why I didn't want the sisters. It hit me when I was sitting in my chair, with two feline children asleep in my lap: I really fell in love with them and didn't want them to go. Maybe it was the times we played together with balls of foil or random items. Or the times I refereed their long wrestling matches. Usually the wee one would jump her older sister, and I'd either have to brake them apart when the "uncle" mewing started, to making sure that the fight was fair.

"Be nice to your little sister!", "Well, you're going to be pinned if you're the one who jumped her. She is bigger than you!"

Maybe it was the quiet time when they'd both be asleep in perfect little balls. One on the computer table resting her head on my typing hand, making me spam the letter "Q" all over my text, and the tiniest one curled up between my feet, as she was too young to jump as high as the chair seat.

Maybe it was the good time when they'd stalk me and pounce with such exuberance, that I laughed out loud.

Maybe it was the time the girls started to sleep next to me at night and I woke up to the sensation of an adolescent feline suckling my ear. Just like that, I had been adopted as their mommy.

The mornings were always wonderfully the same. Woke up, fed them, cleaned out the catbox while they sat next to each other and watched. Called them to me before I left for work and gave them both a hug. "..be good little ladies, okay? I'll be back in a few hours." I'd think about them while doing my job, and then be greeted with a cuddle fest when I came home and asked, "Were are my girls?!"

But the day I was hoping would never come, came. Nikki and Christine were going their separate ways, and Christine wanted to take her cat back. The sisters were going to be going away, and be split up, never to see each other again. And, I'll never see them again either. Even now, thinking about their tiny broken hearts makes me sad.

They'll never sleep next to each other, or feel the others presence. The elder sister was starting to really get into grooming her baby sibling, and even helping her cover her kitty poo with litter: she was teaching her how to be a lady. And the baby girl was growing up before my eyes so fast! A handfull became two, in no time. And she even managed her greatest feat, to leap upon the chair seat to join the rest of her family.

And that family is broken apart.

I know Nikki will take great care of the black one, now named "Gigi" (who, the entire time, I refused to call the original name Christine came up with. Who names a pretty girl cat "Chester"?!), and maybe I'll visit them soon. She's grown to quite a beautiful sleek lady. And to her credit, Nikki was as heart broken as I was, and understood.

The tiger striped baby kat... I have no real idea how she's doing. Last I heard, she was given to someone else. I think about the little mewing often, as I am still cleaning up the stray litter grains sprinkled about.

I think about both the kitten sisters, and how empty my place has become.