Keeping it classy. And random.

In my continuing fascination with all things that grow, tonight I was hoping to post a picture of what I'm confident is the biggest lemon in at least 83 states. (I'm aware there are only 50 states, I'm just trying to express how huge this monolith is.) My parents have a freakish lemon tree in their backyard that grows huge fruit, and this dear arbor has outdone itself this time. This sucker was somewhere between the size of a grapefruit and a cantaloupe. But after all this buildup of what was sure to be your most exciting stop on the web this evening, I didn't have my camera to capture the glory. So sorry, dear reader. First the losses of Michael and Farrah, now this lemon thing. I'm a monster for inflicting this on you.

BUT WAIT! DON'T HIT THE BACK BUTTON!

I have a plan B for tonight's post. I know you're inconsolable, but perhaps you can drown your sorrows in this. Below is a picture of the beer that was served at the wedding I coordinated last night.
Your eyes do not deceive you. It is indeed "Doggie Style" beer.

Some Cuteness and Slight Abuse for your Saturday

A Bumper Sticker I Fancy....

I care about the environment. But my vanity takes over when it comes to my car. Until car manufacturers can make more attractive looking hybrids that don't look like tuna cans, I will continue to drive Klaus, my gas-drinkin' Jetta. I realize some car companies are finally making strides towards better looking hybrids, but I'm not moved to change over yet. But I saw a bumper sticker on a Prius yesterday that made me laugh enough to consider a switch.

"I beat up 5 hippies, and all I got was this lousy Prius."

Well played, humorous Prius driver. For a while, I was convinced the only bumper decor allowed on a Prius were stickers either to support Obama or saving the planet. Or those state-issued stickers that let you roll in the carpool lane. None of which I'm necessarily against, but something gets lost when EVERY Prius seems to sport the same stuff. No one wants to wear the same outfit to a party as everyone else. The purpose of a bumper sticker is to make your car a little more unique.

In other breaking bumper sticker news, on my way home just a few minutes ago, I came across another one I enjoyed. Short, sweet, and to the point:

"Don't Hit Me."

Oh Amen, brother. AMEN.

I'm the freaking wizard of gardening.

So I picked this from my patio plant. It's the first thing the patio has yielded besides black widows and other 6-8 legged creatures. Things are looking up.
I labored over what I was going to do with the solitary lime. And then it came to me. It was so obvious.

Ahhhhhhh...lovely. But this was obviously not for my own pleasure. It was merely to test the validity of the other 10 budding limes still on the branches, even though they are months from being ready for picking.

Result: Very promising. Margarita party at my house. Probably mid-November. Mark your calendars.

Spellcheck iz importente in yer online datin profyle

In my continuing online dating saga, I joined catholicmatch.com. I left behind the freak show that was Plenty of Fish, and am hoping that a more faith-based site might yield some more decent dudes. While I was perusing the profiles of my matches, I came across this opening line that amused me:

"Hi everyone, I would like to find someone special and with a good hearth."

Who knew that the men of LA just wanted a gal with a decent fireplace? Or maybe this guy is a chimney sweep.

Love Affair.

God help me, I love butter. LOVE IT.

Stud Muffin.

In case you haven't heard, I adore this man.

Yes, I adore Barry Manilow. And yes, I realize he's wearing crushed red velvet. And yes, I realize his nose and haircut make him look like a baby bird. And yes, I realize he's gay. But I actually didn't know that until my friends told me at 23 years of age. I was shocked. It just never occurred to me. And I don't know why.

I'm happy when people aren't afraid to look ridiculous.

I'm a little less annoyed with the Jonas Brothers after watching this. I love when pop tarts look like absolute idiots, and aren't afraid of doing it.





Knowing what a lack of musical taste I had when I was 11, if these guys had been around in 1989, I'm sure I would have followed them to the ends of the earth. I already had that hysteria in my youth with a little band called New Kids on the Block. Don't get me wrong, JoBros, this video has not even remotely turned me into a fan of yours. Your music still annoys me to no end. However, I now have a shred of respect for your ability to create humor. Kudos.

Nowadays, I prefer to sit back and listen to my Barry Manilow CD's. That's right kids. CD's. I'm old-school. Heck, I just joined iTunes two weeks ago. Gimme a break! Ooo, Gimme a Break...that was a great TV show. WHAT'S GIMME A BREAK, YOU ASK??!?!?!?! Ah, forget it...I know I lost you way back at Barry Manilow.

I am...Chuck Mangione.

My friends shot this video just over a month ago, then tossed it up on YouTube. And tonight, in an effort to keep my momentum of regular posts going I thought, "Why don't I just cast my dignity aside and post that video on the ol' blog?" Which reminds me, I shouldn't listen to every suggestion I give myself. But I'm just so damn obedient.

Two things I'd like you to know before you watch this video:

1. I don't do drugs.
2. And while yes, I do drink, alcohol wasn't involved either. Just pure exhaustion. I was half asleep when this was taken.

Um, enjoy?




*PROGRAM NOTE: Yenny Cash is my alias in the "band" I'm in with two of my favorite ladies, Skmaximus Black and Liz Roswell. I call it a "band" because we've only had one rehearsal, and this and this was what came from it. On top of that, we've only had one paid gig, and we were lip-syncing. Believe it or not, we were ALL music majors in college.