Palin Limericks: " McCain Knew His Campaign Was Flailin'"

After reading WASHWORDS' inspired "Campaign Edition Haiku", I was determined to try my hand at some timely Palin limericks. As usual what was a good idea yesterday in the blogosphere is today's viral email and tomorrow's LOL Cats. Since there are already some great ones out there and in the spirit of Labor Day I will let others do the Limericky work! Here are some links and now I can take the rest of the afternoon off from the drudgery of manual blogging.

Happy Labor Day weekend!

From Democratic Underground.com

McCain knew his campaign was flailin'
And voters were thinking of bailin'
He pulled out of his ass
A Hail Mary pass
And desperately pointed at Palin

Crotchety, cranky, and gripey
Gramps McCain donned his adult dipey
"Palin lacks cred
But I'm nearly dead
And I need that hottie to wipe me!"

With polish, panache, and much promise,
Her selection would outshine Obama's.
But unlike putting Quayle in,
The choice of Ms. Palin
Was much more like Eagleton, Thomas.


Daily Kos

There once was a maverick "un"
whose veepstakes was really no fun.
He picked Sarah Palin:
"When it comes to Dan Quaylin'
I'm second to Bush 41!"

Any more?

You Tube in 1985

Not surprising that the early version was a flop...

"Coldest State...Hottest Governor!"

Alaska's Sarah Palin!

And now a site dedicated to VPILF!

Click Here!

I Continue to Disapoint [sic] Google!

Google searches bringing folks to my blog this week include:

female super bowl

how to please people

fired employees of lowes

how to run a corn shucking contest

DC emoticon

sally struthers porn

youtube pig mouth sharpie

and my favorite, one that is almost Haiku in its simple beauty...

Hillary Clinton Iowa, corn, wow, "State Fair"

Surviving Washington DC Summers Before Air Conditioning: A History!

Although this August has been unusually cool, generally the searing heat of the eighth month of the year is brutal locally. Can you imagine living in Washington, DC before air conditioning? Tossing and turning night after night of uncomfortable restless sleep, working in oven-like offices while gasping for breath in the putrid still air? How did people survive the blistering heat? What did people do before air conditioning in DC?

In the Beginning

From the very beginning the District of Columbia was laid out with consideration to fight the summer heat. In 1791, President George Washington appointed Frenchman Pierre L'Enfant Plaza (pee-air el-uh-fant pla-za) to design the new federal capital city which was unfortunately located in lowly swamplands purchased sight unseen on Craigslist. L'Enfant Plaza envisioned a grand city much like Paris with airy broad tree lined streets, low rise buildings and Can-Can girls.

L'Enfant Plaza's design of the city on a northeast to southwest axis was not coincidental or part of a Freemason conspiracy. Houses situated on the streets at this angle would benefit from the prevailing cool breezes flowing from northeast Maryland through DC towards Virginia since Virginia then, as today sucks.

The War of 1812: It Only Burns When I Pee

In August 1814, frustrated by the broiling Washington heat, indifferent Can-Can girls and his embarrassingly accurate last name, British Admiral Cockburn took matters into his own hands and attempted to burn DC to the ground, causing the locals to take an unexpected vacation in the cooler climes of the Shenandoah Mountains. First Lady Dolly Madison was the last to evacuate the White House famously declaring, "Shoot if you must this old gray head, but spare my country's cupcakes."

The "Civil" War

Global warming first reared its ugly head in the record heat of the summers of 1861-1865. Residents of DC and Virginia sought respite from the sweltering heat wave by competing for the few limited spaces available in nearby “civil” spas in Bull Run, Antietam and Gettysburg.

As part of the competition, Mayors A. Lincoln and J. Davis of DC and Richmond respectively, made a series of bets about which city had the hottest average temperatures and foxiest Can-Can girls. Mayor Davis won the bet causing Lincoln to throw such a major hissy fit that he inexplicably burned Atlanta.

The Gilded Age of Summering

DC, like other major cities in the Northeast, exploded in population and wealth during the period following the "Civil" War.

Super rich industrialists and financiers such as Cornelius Vanderbilt, John D Rockefeller, and Andrew Carnegie built summer mansions in cool seaside locations such as Newport Rhode Island or Bar Harbor Maine.

DC residents built summer homes with wide eaves, deep porches, thick walls, high ceilings, attics, sleeping porches and cross ventilation in Mt. Pleasant and Columbia Heights.

Making the World Safe for Democracy, Movies and the Washington Senators

The general public first began to encounter “man-made weather” in movie theaters. The Follies Bergere Can-Can Theater in DC installed the first air conditioning system locally in a theater in 1911. Soon pioneering experiments with mechanical cooling turned public attendance at movies into a summertime ritual in the 20s.

DC residents flocked to movie theaters to experience the new way to stay cool and stayed for reel after reel in order to avoid going home to the stifling heat. Movie theaters competed with each other by building more and more lavish theaters many which still exist today such as the Uptown, Lincoln, Rite Aid, Howard, Lowes, Starbucks, Cairo, Bens, Regal, Home Depot, Metro, CVS and Ronald Wilson Reagan Memorial Can-Can National Airport theaters.

The Federal government soon jumped on the air conditioning band wagon and in 1928, the House of Representatives got the deep freeze. The following year the Senate earmarked itself some cold air. In 1930 the White House, Executive Office Building, and the Department of Commerce all became a summer oasis enabling the Federal government to work year round in order to defeat the Depression, Hitler, Japan and the New York Yankees.

The Cold War (1945-1991)

Despite the name, DC in the summer during the Cold War was still quite hot. Residents who had yet to install residential air conditioning during this period often found cooler air while ducking under school desks or summering in their fallout shelters.

Today

Air Conditioning.

The. Best. Invention. Ever.

Followed closely by the Remote Control.


Credits:

Wikipedia
Zoloft
Carrier.com
White House Historical Society
Absolut Vodka
Mr. Wilson’s 6th grade history class (1970)
Gilahi Blog
“I Was a Teenage Can-Can Girl” (1952 MGM)
Hostess.com

It's Not You It's Your Blog I Am Breaking Up With. No, It IS You!

How do I break up with you? You were one of the first blogs I read with any regularity. I even Bookmarked you and moved you to the top of my Favorites list right between my primary Bank and my Credit Card servicer. I began every morning with my virtual ablutions to confirm I had not been the victim of identity theft and reaffirm my love for your blog and a good FICO score.

Before my discovery of RSS feeds I visited your site several times a day desperate for new content from you. You noticed my unique IP address, right? How could you not? All day I would press F5, F5, F5, F5, F5 in order to keep the pictures of you in my browser as fresh as my adoration of you.

I finally mustered up the courage to post a comment on your blog and for about a year I commented often. My comments were on topic, supportive, sometimes funny and usually within 3 minutes of you publishing. One day you even posted a comment on my blog.

I still have it.

It was the best birthday present ever!

But over time I started reading you less and less. I still think you are laugh-out-loud funny but I gradually started losing interest. I don’t know why. Maybe because it seemed like all your commentators also had blogs yet somehow knew each other in real time. You and your Blogroll members pass comments back and forth like electronic STDs. I felt left out of your Virtual High School and was hurt that my blog was relegated to sitting at the online cafeteria table with the Chess Club members and the Foreign Exchange students.

To torture me further you began posting pictures of your skanky blogger friends with you. I suspect there have even been some dirty blogger hookups. Is that what it takes to make your Blogroll now? How come no one comments on that? You used your blog to get laid. I used my blog to write about the proper time and place to shuck corn. I think I am the one who got shucked.

I would delete you from my Blogroll but I never added you to begin with. I didn’t think I was worthy but fantasized about the day you announced to your claque that you had added me to yours. Now I know that to appear on your Blogroll is just another way of you crowing about another notch on your Blogger dashboard, one more hit on your Sitemeter or another eHarmony match thoroughly harmonized.

You and your blog are dead to me! You are no longer Bookmarked and now nothing comes between my checking account and my VISA. My RSS Reader? Poof, you are gone!

Ok, maybe I will check your blog one last time tomorrow just to see if you respond to this...

August 24: Happy Adoption Anniversary!

Veal cutlets Lucy and Lizzie have shared my life for six years as of their adoption anniversary today. Adopting them wasn't easy; everything in DC is stupid competitive including finding a suitable small or medium sized dog. I dropped by the Washington Animal Rescue League at least twice a week hoping to find some mutt no one wanted but each dog usually had a long waiting list of potential owners made up of Senators or Nobel Prize winners who owned large farms frequently visited by crippled orphans.

I thought I had struck the doggie lottery when I discovered the adorable beagle mix five year old sisters Lucy and Lizzie. The League was only interested in someone who would adopt both. They weren't immediately available due to medical reasons and were "old" in dog years (35) thus eliminating those who only wanted young leash candy.

Figuring two would be as easy to care for as one and ready for a canine companion, I gulped and signed the papers and began daily visitation. Lizzie had heartworms and was recovering for some reason in the Cat House which I guess is "The Promises" of WARL. Lucy was resting comfortably in the Dog Pavilion after being spayed.

Each day I would visit Lucy and take her to see Lizzie for family bonding amongst the cats. Lucy would stare adoringly into my eyes and lick me and I thought, "She loves me, she is the perfect pet." Lizzie just trembled and gave me that doggie victim look that says "I'm sorry sir, please don't burn me with your cigarette again" and I thought "She needs me, she is the perfect pet. She will learn to trust me."

Six years later Lucy still stares adoringly into my eyes. All day. All night. Obsessive scary stalker staring. I wake up at 3:00 am and there she is staring at me if she isn't licking the blanket. Or licking my arm, scalp, toes, or random items of clothing. Licking 24 X 7. Licking that doesn't stop until my skin breaks and bones protrude. Otherwise she is staring. STARING. Staring and thinking about how she would like to lick me. I am just one big potbellied human popsicle to her.

Six years later Lizzie still has the Battered Dogs Hotline on speed dial. She knows that despite being fed, pampered, and sheltered by me, tonight COULD be the night I decide to off her in some particularly gruesome manner. When I walk by Lizzie cringes and gets in that doggie submissive pose. If only this could be the crowds reaction to me at Whole Foods.

Lucy sleeps within a tongues length, on the well licked and soggy pillow near my head each night. At the foot of the bed sleeping on top of the phone is the quaking and trembling Lizzie, poised to dial 911 and then make a run for it if I suddenly awaken in the mood to bludgeon her with the remote control. Between all the licking, trembling, questionable smells and oh I forgot to mention Lucy's snoring, is it any wonder I have red eyes every morning?

Lucy and Lizzie aren't perfect but guess what neither am I. Thank you Lucy and Lizzie for enriching my life and here's to another six years of licking, trembling, breaking wind, snoring and dialing 911.

The above was adapted from an entry first posted Feb 2007.

Hillary Clinton's 3:00 AM Visitor

Hillary didn't get the 3:00 am text message from Barack, she got a special visitor who attempted to break the VP news to her.

And in the Event of My Untimely Death, I Bequeath my Blog to…

I recently was updating my will and after laying out clear and firm instructions for my executor to immediately collect my “personal” photos and any “toys” usually not seen on Saturday morning TV (I call this role that of the “Grim Sweeper”) I remembered my blog.


So what happens if you have a blog and you unexpectedly have Your Comments Permanently Moderated? Does your blog just hang out there forever as your readership declines and folks wonder if you finally did meet Marie Osmond (or Cazwell) and got married? Will your blog host eventually delete your blog to make room for uh, fresher content?


Here are the options as I see it:


1. Leave a password for your executor with instructions to immediately delete your blog. “They say you can't take it with you, well guess what bitches, I did!”


2. Ask that your executor make one last update announcing that you became living challenged. “After several days of not moving during a 'High School Musical' and 'Camp Rock' Marathon it was determined that Herb of DC had lip synched his way into Camp Eternity. He is survived by his cat Possum and veal cutlet pooches Lucy and Lizzie who are hoping to finally have a human companion who will take them for a walk.


3. Will your blog to a relative to make it his/her own. If my sister took control of this blog it would feature regular updates on the latest macramé techniques or polls to determine who is cuter—Bobby Sherman or Davy Jones. Probably most of my readers wouldn't notice the change.


4. Leave your blog to a relative to pretend he/she is you. Think “Hints from Heloise.” Sure her daughter has taken over but I swear she just recycles the same columns over and over again. Yes we get it--VINEGAR is great for cleaning! And duct tape is not just for dating. Sheesh!


5. Give your blog to a friend. Bob would you take this over? I mean there needs to be a blog devoted to "Everything Ina Gartner", right?


6. Pass on your blog to another blogger. What a great way for a blogger to wreak havoc and start blog wars without harming his/her own blog or reputation. “Herb of DC is awfully vicious with his comments these days. However, his grammar has improved and thank god he hasn't posted about proper corn shucking techniques or the Osmonds lately.”


So who will you leave your blog to? And who wants this one?


By the way I'm not planning on going anywhere soon...

Shuck Me So I Was Wrong!

I recently wrote about people insanely shucking their corn in the aisles of local grocery stores. I still stand by my low opinion of this ridiculous activity and most of my commentators agreed with me or confessed they followed this loathsome practice only due to ignorance.

However I did advise that you should wait and only shuck your corn shortly before you cook it.

I was wrong. You should cook your corn and shuck it afterwards.

While Googling for references to my blog (hey like YOU don't do that) I discovered Tyler Florence's recipe for roasting corn in that beautiful natural husk. I tried it and it was simple, easy and delicious.

The.Best.Corn.Ever.

My first retraction on my blog!

Roasted Corn on the Cob in Husk

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Place corn husks directly on the oven rack and roast for 30 minutes or until corn is soft.

Peel down the husks and use as a handle when eating.

Try it and let me know what you think!

If Apple Offered the iDoorbell Would You Ring Mine?

For the love of Alexander Graham Bell will you people stop calling me from your freaking cell phones when you are at my front door?

When did people stop ringing the doorbell? My friends, neighbors and even Pizza Hut now arrive on my stoop and arrogantly announce their presence by summoning me via their omnipresent cell phones.

Why? Has the electromagnetic doorbell become obsolete like the rotary phone, Hummers or Reston? Have people forgotten how to use the doorbell?

Doorbells don't have cool names like the iDoorbell or the ChocolateBell. Paris Hilton will never be photographed lounging beside a pool holding a doorbell to her ear. The good ole fashioned doorbell only has one ring tone, doesn’t take photos, is completely useless for text messaging and can't be thrown at your assistant.

Sports Star of the Minute Michael Phelps will definitely not sign a deal hawking doorbells but I could picture his mother doing it.

Since you people aren't using my doorbell any more I want to remind you of the Herb of DC Doorbell Process:

1. Arrive at my front door (and you better be on time or I will blog about it)

2. With your index finger firmly press the doorbell button (sometimes this may even be helpfully labeled “Doorbell”) which causes an electrical circuit to be closed so that household current flows through the electromagnet by way of a transformer. This current is then passed through the electromagnet wire to a noisemaking apparatus.

3. Listen to the noisemaking apparatus make “ding dong” sounds which sets off my dogs barking like maniacs

4. While hearing me yell at the dogs to shut the f**k up, use this time to wipe your sweaty palms on your pants and make any last minute wardrobe adjustments

5. Put the candy and liquor in your left hand in order to free up your right hand for firmly shaking my hand when the door opens (I am assuming this is at least the fifth date)

6. Eavesdrop on what sounds like two dogs yelping after being kicked

7. Look for my beady red eye peeping through the appropriately named “peephole”

8. I open the door and act surprised to see you

9.You hand me the candy and liquor

10. I invite you in while examining the candy box for near expiration dates and the liquor for high proof content

11. The dogs joyously throw themselves at you and start humping your leg

See, it's very simple. Only 11 steps. So much better than calling me on your cellphone! Come ring my doorbell!

Insane People Visit My Blog!

I noticed today that a Google search of "insane people" delivered someone from Weston Massachusetts to my blog. Okay, so maybe this person wasn't insane but he skipped this first seven Google results and selected my link.

He stayed 10 seconds. Crazy!


Please, please people Google "insane people" and select my blog. I want to be #1.

I Seen Beyonce at Burger King!

Don't we all need a break from the Olympics? From Cazwell featuring Jonny (Johnny?)Makeup with mercifully no Michael Phelps, no impossibly diminutive 13 16 year old female Chinese gymnasts, and no impossibly diminutive Bob Costas--just a white gay rapper and some drag queens.

Life is good!

USA! USA! USA!

PHELPS' PIG SECRET: HE'S BOY GORGE

You just gotta love the New York Post's headline for the below article. 12,000 calories...I could so get used to that!

Swimming sensation Michael Phelps has an Olympic recipe for success - and it involves eating a staggering 12,000 calories a day.

"Eat, sleep and swim. That's all I can do," Phelps, who won two more gold medals today, told NBC when asked what he needs to win medals. "Get some calories into my system and try to recover the best I can."

By comparison, the average man of the same age needs to ingest about 2,000 calories a day.

Phelps, 23, will swim 17 times over nine days of competition at the Beijing Games - meaning that he will need all the calories he can shovel in his mouth in order to keep his energy levels high.

Phelps' diet - which involves ingesting 4,000 calories every time he sits down for a meal - resembles that of a reckless overeater rather than an Olympian.

Phelps lends a new spin to the phrase "Breakfast of Champions" by starting off his day by eating three fried-egg sandwiches loaded with cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, fried onions and mayonnaise.

He follows that up with two cups of coffee, a five-egg omelet, a bowl of grits, three slices of French toast topped with powdered sugar and three chocolate-chip pancakes.

At lunch, Phelps gobbles up a pound of enriched pasta and two large ham and cheese sandwiches slathered with mayo on white bread - capping off the meal by chugging about 1,000 calories worth of energy drinks.

For dinner, Phelps really loads up on the carbs - what he needs to give him plenty of energy for his five-hours-a-day, six-days-a-week regimen - with a pound of pasta and an entire pizza.

He washes all that down with another 1,000 calories worth of energy drinks.

Phelps remains on course to at least equal Mark Spitz's record of seven gold medals won at the 1972 Munich Games.

At these Summer Games, a typical day for Phelps starts with a 5 a.m. wake-up call. Most of his races have taken place between 8 p.m. and 10 p.m. ET when in China - 12 hours ahead of East Coast time.

Kiss My White Baby Boos!

I've read your DC blogs about your urban tomatoes, tree box squash, edible lawns, balcony cucumbers and towering sweet corn ornamental sorghum. Yawn!

Look people, bow down to the new Frederick Law Olmstead of DC gardening and take a look at my Baby Boo white pumpkins (Martha Stewart's favorite).

Suck it bitches!

My Notorious Blogebrity

Despite my first name and picture being on this blog I am still startled when a stranger mentions my blog. Do that many people really read this thing? Or is my blog so limited in scope that my Blogebrity reaches no further than two or three blocks from my house which is where most of my interactions with the Herbarazzi occurs.

The latest encounter occurred at the 14th and U Farmers Market where one of the vendors asked if I had a food blog. Yikes, was I about to get a heirloom tomato facial? Had I suggested that his produce was less than organic? His carrots were limp? No snap in his snap beans? Crooked zucchini? No wait, I always have kind words for Farmers Markets--especially my home market! Feeling safe from Swiss chard in a definitely unneutral spot I confessed that I had a blog but it wasn't about food.(1)

He said wasn't sure how he found my blog but he found it through random Googling (2) and liked it. Whew! Also he recognized me by the Tractor Supply Company baseball cap I was wearing.

Note to self if you are seeking Blogebrity, always wear in public the same clothing you are wearing in the profile picture of your blog. You not only save a lot of money but you will be thought of as eccentric and perhaps colorful, instead of cheap and crazy.

It was a beautiful August day here today and I hope you got out and enjoyed it.

Pictured above is "Chorus Line of Farmers Market Booty" August 9, 2008.


(1) Actually I don't know what my blog is about. I just know its not about grammar.
(2) Most random Google searches to my blog involve "High School Musical" or "TMNT"

Scientology, the Executive Intern Program and My Buffalo Chicken Sandwich

Have Scientologists infiltrated the Executive Intern program at my employer?

I was riding the elevator at the Really Big Non-Profit, just me and my Buffalo Chicken Sandwich from the Really Big Non-Profit cafeteria (if it is Buffalo Chicken Sandwich Day you know it it is Wednesday!) when two male Executive Interns got on board and pressed the number for a Lofty Floor several stories and pay grades above mine.

“You should have joined us Sunday. After the zoo we went and toured the L. Ron Hubbard House” the improbably named intern Tweed said to Intern Brock, he of the Mitt Romney-like jaw.

What, our sweet little handsome Executive Interns touring the birthplace of Scientology? Was this an approved Executive Intern activity like foosball, tanning or creating PowerPoints Stating The Obvious? Or was this merely a regrettable one time event like Really Big Non-Profit Logo Tattoos or Executive Intern Lactation Room Hook-Ups? The heavy smell of suspicion, Axe Body Spray and blue cheese dressing hung in the North Building elevator as we proceeded upwards.

“It was strange, every time you entered a room someone followed you and closed the door behind you. “

The elevator reached my floor and the doors slowly opened to reveal my floor's lowly vestibule bedecked with posters of Really Big Non-Profit Approved Motivational Sayings. No one else was on the elevator besides us. Do I pretend I meant to escort my Buffalo Chicken Sandwich to the Lofty Floor and enjoy the romantic views towards Georgetown along with a potential heaping helping of dishy MySpace Dianetics?

Or exit now and share my Buffalo Chicken Sandwich with the inspirational poster of the the ocean and the admonition of “If you're not riding the wave of change...you'll find yourself beneath it” yet never know the end of this story?

You know me. I resist change. The sandwich won. Oh, I left an important detail out. It was Buffalo Chicken Sandwich with Sweet Potato Fries Day.

You call it Wednesday.

And the fries were still hot.

Besides the interns go back to school Friday, let their Universities deal with this.

Your Vacation--My Blog!

Well after several months of weekend work at the Really Big Non-Profit, it looks like my August will also be filled with toiling away on the Project From Hell That Never Ends. I shouldn't complain, management bought us lunch from Pot Belly TWICE for our weekend work in June. With chips!

It doesn't look like I will be taking a summer trip this year so please help me out--send me your vacation pictures to my email address listed at the top! Since there will be no pictures of me showing off my abs at Rehoboth Beach* or bungee jumping the Grand Canyon** I will post yours here and you will have fame, glory and the thrill of knowing that tweens throughout the world looking for information on "High School Musical" 3 and 4 will be intently studying your pictures looking for glimpses of Zac or Vanessa.

* Time Travel Machine not included
**Are you so new to my blog that you would believe that?

First up Dinah and her camping trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains:

Looking towards the Massanutten Mountain range



















The Peek-A-Boo Buck!




















Thanks Dinah!

Please People: Stop the Insane In-Store Corn Shucking!

For the love of Orville Redenbacher, will all you in-store corn shuckers stop! This seems to be a DC area phenomena that gets worse each year. Do you know how ridiculous you look making a mess in the aisles of the produce departments of Safeway or Giant by stripping the husks off of your ears of corn like some insane yuppie Edward Scissorhands? What agriculturally challenged moron started this unacceptable abuse of sweet corn? Would you unwrap chicken breasts before tossing them in your cart? Peel the apples before purchasing?

Trust me on this: I know corn. I spent the first 22 years of my life in Indiana where corn, along with basketball and Jesus makes up the Hoosier Holy Trinity. Former teachers of mine still get misty-eyed fondly recalling my prize winning 4-H project “Our Friend Corn.”

I know my yellows (Sweet Sunshine, Kandy Korn, Early and Often) and my whites (Sugar Pearl, Country Gentleman, Silver Choice) and the bi-delicious bi-colors (Peaches and Cream, Sun and Stars, Checkered Choice). I also know the one thing you will never see at a Midwestern farm stand—CUSTOMERS SHUCKING THEIR CORN!!

Here's why you want to keep your corn wrapped in that beautiful natural corn condom: the sugars that produce the sweet flavor that enhances the taste of corn start converting to starch when it is picked and within about 2 days are about 50% depleted. Stripping the corn of its natural wrapper speeds this process and also causes it to dry quicker. Is that what you want to serve at your barbecue? Dry chewy starchy corn?

Shucking corn in the grocery store only makes sense if you have a cauldron of water already boiling in your car or maybe you are planning on grilling them on your radiator on your drive home.

I don't buy the excuse of those who claim they are only checking to see if the corn is ripe. You can easily tell if corn is ready to go home with you. Is the husk vibrant green, are the silks of the tassels still fresh and soft to the touch? When you run your fingernails along the rows of kernels, do they feel firm, tight and plump? If so you got yourself a nice ear of sweet corn ready for in-home shucking right before you are ready to cook it.

Next time you are tempted to shuck your corn at the grocery store, you better look over your shoulder. If I catch you contributing to the plague of gummy corn on the cob I will totally take your picture and post it here. I have a camera phone and I'm not afraid to use it!

Update 8/19/2008

I am not to proud to admit when I am wrong. I stated above you should shuck your corn shortly before cooking it. Following the advice of Tyler Florence, I tried roasting the corn cobs in the oven with the husks still on.

Delish! And so simple!

Here's Tyler's "recipe"

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Place corn husks directly on the oven rack and roast for 30 minutes or until corn is soft.

Peel down the husks and use as a handle when eating.

Lowes Delivery Driver Caught on Tape with Hooker!

This Oklahoma Lowes driver was caught on tape with his pants down (1:34) by the Video Vigilante.

Interesting tidbit of information at 3:58. In Oklahoma a [like an ice cream cone] is $40 and [like Mom and Dad did] is $60. Both for $100. Shouldn't you get a discount for purchasing both services? Just wondering. Can I use a Lowes Gift card?

I've been posting a lot this year about hookers. And Lowes. I need to get back to my 2007 obsession with the Osmonds--so much more wholesome.

Dreaming of Other Bloggers

Do you ever dream of other bloggers? I do although not in a scary, stalkerish way. Since I am reading about your life, interests, relationships, friends and work it is only natural that you would show up in a dream, right?

It's not like the time I dreamed I was at a party making out with Martha Stewart.

That was weird, right?