You Were Ours - You Will Be Missed
I wish I would have paid more attention.
You were one-of-a-kind.
You were a legend.
You were pure talant.
You were human.
You were scared.
You were brave.
You were gentle.
You were soft spoken.
You were trusting.
You were young.
You were old.
You were famous.
You were loved.
You were hated.
You were exploited.
You were larger than life.
You were a little part of us all.
You helped define me as a person.
Your work here is done. Now you are free.
Love always, Mindy
Monday, June 29, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
New American Tea Party
Tea Bags
I plan on doing this on April 1st.
Hope the King has enough bucks in his budget to cover
all the security issue costs as the millions of plain white
envelope hit Pennsylvania Avenue.
(If I had any venture capital I would buy stock in Lipton Tea.)
____________________________________________
There's a storm abrewin'. What happens when good,
responsible people, irregardless of their political party affiliations,
keep quiet?
Washington has forgotten they work for us.
We don't work for them. Throwing good
money after bad is NOT the answer.
I am sick of the midnight, closed door sessions to come up
with a plan.
I am sick of Congress raking CEO's over the coals while they,
themselves, have defaulted on their taxes. I am sick of the
bailed out companies having lavish vacations and retreats on
my dollar.
I am sick of being told it is MY responsibility to rescue people
that, knowingly, bought more house than they could afford.
I am sick of being made to feel it is my patriotic duty to pay
MORE taxes. I, like all of you, am a responsible citizen. I pay
my taxes. I live on a budget and I don't ask someone else to
carry the burden for poor decisions I may make. I have
emailed my congressmen and senators asking them to NOT
vote for the stimulus package as it was written without reading
it first.
No one listened. They voted for it, pork and all.
O.K. folks, here it is. You may think you are just one voice
and what you think won't make a difference. Well, yes it will
and YES, WE CAN!!
If you are disgusted and angry with the way Washington is
handling our taxes. If you are fearful of the fallout from the
reckless spending of BILLIONS to bailout and "stimulate"
without accountability and responsibility then we need to
become ONE, LOUD VOICE THAT CAN BE HEARD FROM EVERY
CITY, TOWN, SUBURB AND HOME IN AMERICA. There is a
growing protest to demand that Congress, the President and
his cabinet LISTEN to us, the American Citizens.
What is being done in Washington is NOT the way to handle the
economic free fall.
So, here's the plan. On April 1, 2009, all Americans are asked to
send a TEABAG to Washington D.C. You do not have to enclose
a note or any other information unless you so desire. Just send a
TEABAG.
Many cities are organizing protests. If you simply search, "New
American Tea Party", several sites will come up. If you aren't the
'protester' type, simply make your one voice heard with a TEABAG.
Your one voice will become a roar when joined with millions of
others that feel the same way. Yes, something needs to be done
but the lack of confidence as shown by the steady decline in the
stock market speaks volumes.
This was not my idea. I visited the sites of the 'New American
Tea Party' and an online survey showed over 90% of thousands
said they would send the teabag on April 1.
Why, April 1??
We want them to reach Washington D.C. by April 15.
Will you do it? I will.
Send it to:
1600 Pennsylvania Ave.
Washington , D.C. 20500 .
I plan on doing this on April 1st.
Hope the King has enough bucks in his budget to cover
all the security issue costs as the millions of plain white
envelope hit Pennsylvania Avenue.
(If I had any venture capital I would buy stock in Lipton Tea.)
____________________________________________
There's a storm abrewin'. What happens when good,
responsible people, irregardless of their political party affiliations,
keep quiet?
Washington has forgotten they work for us.
We don't work for them. Throwing good
money after bad is NOT the answer.
I am sick of the midnight, closed door sessions to come up
with a plan.
I am sick of Congress raking CEO's over the coals while they,
themselves, have defaulted on their taxes. I am sick of the
bailed out companies having lavish vacations and retreats on
my dollar.
I am sick of being told it is MY responsibility to rescue people
that, knowingly, bought more house than they could afford.
I am sick of being made to feel it is my patriotic duty to pay
MORE taxes. I, like all of you, am a responsible citizen. I pay
my taxes. I live on a budget and I don't ask someone else to
carry the burden for poor decisions I may make. I have
emailed my congressmen and senators asking them to NOT
vote for the stimulus package as it was written without reading
it first.
No one listened. They voted for it, pork and all.
O.K. folks, here it is. You may think you are just one voice
and what you think won't make a difference. Well, yes it will
and YES, WE CAN!!
If you are disgusted and angry with the way Washington is
handling our taxes. If you are fearful of the fallout from the
reckless spending of BILLIONS to bailout and "stimulate"
without accountability and responsibility then we need to
become ONE, LOUD VOICE THAT CAN BE HEARD FROM EVERY
CITY, TOWN, SUBURB AND HOME IN AMERICA. There is a
growing protest to demand that Congress, the President and
his cabinet LISTEN to us, the American Citizens.
What is being done in Washington is NOT the way to handle the
economic free fall.
So, here's the plan. On April 1, 2009, all Americans are asked to
send a TEABAG to Washington D.C. You do not have to enclose
a note or any other information unless you so desire. Just send a
TEABAG.
Many cities are organizing protests. If you simply search, "New
American Tea Party", several sites will come up. If you aren't the
'protester' type, simply make your one voice heard with a TEABAG.
Your one voice will become a roar when joined with millions of
others that feel the same way. Yes, something needs to be done
but the lack of confidence as shown by the steady decline in the
stock market speaks volumes.
This was not my idea. I visited the sites of the 'New American
Tea Party' and an online survey showed over 90% of thousands
said they would send the teabag on April 1.
Why, April 1??
We want them to reach Washington D.C. by April 15.
Will you do it? I will.
Send it to:
1600 Pennsylvania Ave.
Washington , D.C. 20500 .
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Twas the night before closing...
Twas the night before closing and the agents were tense,
to close Christmas Eve just didn't make sense.
But the seller was booked on the 6 o'clock flight
and had warned 'THERE WILL BE A CLOSING TONIGHT!"
The agents agreed because business was dead,
and visions of commission checks danced in their heads.
The loan was approved by the lender's good grace.
Everyone knew 'twas a borderline case.
The buyers divorced, remarried again,
Divorced once more, and now were just friends.
The loan package complete to the closer was carried,
with instructions to close before they remarried.
The title policy arrived via UPS,
from page one through sixteen, a terrible MESS!
An improper legal, 3 judgments, a lien,
but a few lines on page seven, looked pretty clean.
The title was cleared and the closing was set,
but to finish today was not a sure bet.
The closer dashed in waving her HUD.
It was covered with whiteout, coffee and crud.
But down in the corner you could barely see,
that the buyer still owed a buck thirty-three.
So the closer extracted a bill from her compact,
and the agents agreed to the rest on the contract.
To add some interest, the seller revealed,
to everyone's horror- the well wasn't sealed.
And oh yes, he wanted to change the disclosure.
His mother just died of RADON EXPOSURE!
Everything else in his house was O.K.
(his cracked floors and walls were always that way).
About that time the buyer chimed in,
"We'd like to continue, but before we begin,
I noticed these papers- I'm likely to blame,
but I gave my agents the wrong legal name.
And one more thing I had hoped to avoid,
does it really matter if I'm self employed ?"
About this time, the closer exploded.
She pulled out a gun and said it was loaded.
Everyone froze and sat there amazed.
She frothed at the mouth and her eyes were both glazed.
More rapid than eagles, her curses they came.
She bristled and spouted and called them BAD names.
"THE CLOSING IS OFF. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL- NOW GET OUT OF HERE!
to close Christmas Eve just didn't make sense.
But the seller was booked on the 6 o'clock flight
and had warned 'THERE WILL BE A CLOSING TONIGHT!"
The agents agreed because business was dead,
and visions of commission checks danced in their heads.
The loan was approved by the lender's good grace.
Everyone knew 'twas a borderline case.
The buyers divorced, remarried again,
Divorced once more, and now were just friends.
The loan package complete to the closer was carried,
with instructions to close before they remarried.
The title policy arrived via UPS,
from page one through sixteen, a terrible MESS!
An improper legal, 3 judgments, a lien,
but a few lines on page seven, looked pretty clean.
The title was cleared and the closing was set,
but to finish today was not a sure bet.
The closer dashed in waving her HUD.
It was covered with whiteout, coffee and crud.
But down in the corner you could barely see,
that the buyer still owed a buck thirty-three.
So the closer extracted a bill from her compact,
and the agents agreed to the rest on the contract.
To add some interest, the seller revealed,
to everyone's horror- the well wasn't sealed.
And oh yes, he wanted to change the disclosure.
His mother just died of RADON EXPOSURE!
Everything else in his house was O.K.
(his cracked floors and walls were always that way).
About that time the buyer chimed in,
"We'd like to continue, but before we begin,
I noticed these papers- I'm likely to blame,
but I gave my agents the wrong legal name.
And one more thing I had hoped to avoid,
does it really matter if I'm self employed ?"
About this time, the closer exploded.
She pulled out a gun and said it was loaded.
Everyone froze and sat there amazed.
She frothed at the mouth and her eyes were both glazed.
More rapid than eagles, her curses they came.
She bristled and spouted and called them BAD names.
"THE CLOSING IS OFF. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL- NOW GET OUT OF HERE!
Monday, September 15, 2008
Kat Deluna
Did anyone hear Kat Deluna sing the national anthem on Monday night football 9/15/08??? She was HORRIBLE. I would rather hear two cats screwing in an alley. That was one of the worst performances I've ever seen. Who the Hell gave this girl her money or fame? She needs to be in school somewhere.
DREAD... I bet she doesn't know who the president is.... What a disaster.
DREAD... I bet she doesn't know who the president is.... What a disaster.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Hormonal Consequences
This is an actual letter from an Austin woman sent to American company Proctor and Gamble regarding their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph.
It's PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best webmail-award-winning letter.
Dear Mr. Thatcher,
I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.
Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from the curse'? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.' Isn't the human body amazing?
As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jenifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend's testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey's Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy!
The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: 'Have a Happy Period.'
Are you ****ing kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.
For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong', or are you just picking on us?
Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bull ****. And that's a promise I will keep. Always.
Best,
Wendi Aarons
Austin , TX
It's PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best webmail-award-winning letter.
Dear Mr. Thatcher,
I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.
Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from the curse'? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.' Isn't the human body amazing?
As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jenifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend's testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey's Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy!
The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: 'Have a Happy Period.'
Are you ****ing kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.
For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong', or are you just picking on us?
Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bull ****. And that's a promise I will keep. Always.
Best,
Wendi Aarons
Austin , TX
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
