My Beloved Downey Jr

I am so glad he is back in his full wonderful glory and making films. My favorite actor of all times beat drugs and came back. Every film he is in is golden.

Because of the holiday weekend and the film being out for awhile, which suit me just fine, it was incredibly empty for a city film venue.

This film was pee in the pants funny for me. It was wrong on all sorts of levels. That is why I loved it so much.
Taken in the right comedic context, it is very funny. Stiller has always been 2 blocks short of the good taste line but that is exactly why we laugh. Being uncomfortable, twist in your seat, "can't believe he just said that" feeling, helps us release the anxiety of having to be so politically correct all the time.
I could go into more detail about this subject but I am too afraid I might offend someone, and you never know when a true blonde might want to run for President!

Blondes don't draw the lines!!

Back to France




I lingered in total bliss.


Blondes like taking little bites of the Apple!!

I Tried Italian

Full of carbs and themselves!! Needless to say, I prefer a lighter affair.


My time at the Open was well spent.

The match against Ferrer and Noshikori was outstanding! The game went the full five sets with the climatic tie breaker at the end. I feel so bad for Ferrer. They both wanted it so much it was hard to see they both could not win.

My favorite thing about being at the US Open is the lack of commentary from the television hosts. When watching via tele, the commentators tend to get on my nerves trying to fill dead air space. I fully appreciate some facts, but the forced humor and lack of warm fuzzies from retired tennis figures...NO!

The only ones I know that can pull off a good gift of gab during play is in the football arena with Howie and Terry. BTW: Redskins are playing the Giants this Thursday. I am a Redskin fan by birth (a little something, something you didn't know about me--OK, stop laughing) and my backup team will be the Jets this year because Favre is playing for them. That game is Sunday.

The other thing I love about being at the Open is the crowd, and how they embrace both players. No one walks away a loser according to those of us in the stands.
Its just a great vibe!!

Their is over 200 chefs on site to tempt your taste buds,but the prices kept my diet in tact. I am not paying $25 for a crepe.

Tonight I am going solo to see the movie 'Tropic Thunder'.

Stay tuned for the real action when I attempt public transport for the first time. I am actually going to try the subway!! I have my Benz on emergency call!!

Blondes use protection for the first time!!


Walking is Fun

but being tooled around in a Benz, is better!!

On my social calendar tonight; the Open and an authentic Italian; restaurant and my date.
I will let you know how it went when I get home!!

Blondes like having a ball!!



should not be born if given the choice.

WOW..I thought I was controversial but tonight, I had the distinct pleasure of someone else carrying the floor. I am all about shocking the status quo but some subjects I leave to my compatriots.

We had dinner at a wonderful french restaurant, Le Perigord on 52nd St. I had the scallop appetizer, halibut for the main course, an a grand marnier souffle for dessert.

Impeccable and amazing like only the French can do. The portions are what few Americans would appreciate. If you can take it home in a doggy bag your not eating above 5 stars.
It was superb. I ordered a Pouilly-Fuissé but instead they brought me a much finer species of wine..I wish I could remember, but I cannot. The conversation was too intriguing for me and for the couple next to us who paid close attention to Doc's opinions.

Doc did not realize it, but the couple next to us was expecting and the subject we chose to discuss was most disconcerting for them.
We or should I say he, chose to speak of terminating pregnancy based on a child with the genetic predisposition of retardation. A subject that has come to recent light with the vulgar use of the word 'retard' in the movie, "Tropic Thunder".

I am not one to shy away from such shocking topics and I found it quite liberating. For once, I was not on the chopping block of public scrutiny for my dinner commentary.

What fascinated me most about Doc's opinions is the fact that he is of jewish heritage. I assumed that he would lend a sympathetic ear to a plight such as termination based on human frailty and imperfection.

He kept using the term 'retard' and quite frankly, I was a bit shocked. I don't think I have ever heard anyone use the term for any reason since I was 8 years old. I laughed every time he said it.

I didn't laugh because it was funny; I laughed because it was uncomfortable to hear.




Do you see where just finishing the words in your head brings dis-comfort. I don't know anyone over the age of 10 that would use that word and find it funny. Anyone under the age of 10 that uses it has a grasp of the concept and they know its derogatory and hurtful and they have a lack of good parenting.

I am wondering why Jesse Jackson wasn't up in arms about Robert Downey Jr. part in the film. I think if another 'word' was blatently used...he would be!!

I understand comedy.

I don't understand this kind of comedy; nor do I understand Doc's opinion.

I don't understand the pre-selection, the pre-determination of a fetus based on predisposition to be a burden on a parent. I don't know a parent that would think any child is a burden, no matter the case.

I wonder what Darwin would have to say about all of this?

Blondes have a lot to learn about being special!!

New York, So Far

Far to walk when you get confused and have to circle several blocks to figure out where the heck your are going.

What should take 10 blocks of walking actually takes me 20 because I have to walk two blocks down or up and than two blocks left to right to see the numbers and street signs to set my course accordingly.
I have learned I can not find what I am looking for if it is on the same side of the street that I walk on so I have to cross the street, back track, and look again. This became evident when I walked passed the bank 3 times before finding it by accident.

On a positive note I am already familiar with the lay of the land at Bloomies.
I bought a killer Ed Hardy belt, Marc Jacob sunglasses, and a few Guess and Diesel t's.

It is hot walking around NY and for the most part everyone is casually dressed. I dare not wear heels until I have the cab waving perfected, and I am fairly certain I am not interested in ever using the subway. I am still a little apprehensive about public transportation.

Thank Gah, my new friend is a Doctor and has a special parking permit that allows him to park me in front of anywhere I want to go.

Yesterday I ate lunch at a Solera's at 53rd and 3rd. You think I would be a bit more clever with my eateries but it felt like home and the huge table of gorgeous Latin men in suits sitting adjacent to me made it even more appetizing.
The food was incredible. I had the flank steak and glass of vino.




I'm sorry I was just picturing the men...the dish was fab too!!


I have secured tickets to the US Open this weekend and a young tennis stud to accompany me. I am still trying to get backstage passes to some designer shows. Apparently, just because you have a media pass, doesn't mean you get into the shows you want. Again, Doc to the rescue. his friend owns one of the top four modeling agencies in town!

Now, its off to the salon to have my nails done and home to clean up for dinner. I am thinking about wearing my sexy little L.A.M.B. floor length snake print number tonight with designer flip flops.

P.S. I have been warned not go above 96th Street because they haven't blonde-proofed it yet!!

Blondes stand out even when they blend!!


Can the plane

...put a rooftop rack on its hull. I will need it for my suitcases.

I am outie by 5AM...so next time you read me, I will be reporting from the Big Apple.

Whomever came up with 3.5 oz when most things are 4 oz surely has shown an entire nation their stupidity.

Blondes need a charter!!


Leave Sleeping Worms in the Can

I totally blew this guy off in Houston several weeks back. I knew he was going to Israel and would not be back for a week. I sheepishly left a message on his work phone apologizing that I could not make it last minute I that I changed my mind.

Quite frankly,

I don't know you well enough not to change my mind and feel guilty about bailing.


I guess he is back in town and wants to know why?! I am sorry but I deleted you from my phone. I left a sufficient message, now go away!!

I could not get through my pre New York work because I had a text every freaking 20 minutes from this assurance deficient dude. He seems not to take rejection well and ignores it as a way to cope. I made the mortal mistake of being nice and the freak took off with it as another opportunity to meet me.

Good you drive here, set yourself up at the Four Seasons and I will meet your freak for a drink.


PHLEEB, you have been deleted!!

What do you not understand without me telling you?!

Honestly, I did go to Houston but I overbooked my dates and I had to knock the least favorable off my list. He had a couple of severe non-no's but he was persistent and wore me down and although a bit scary in his stiff European accent and demeanor, I decided, 'what the heck, I have a few hours to kill between my other dates."

On Match, he had my numero uno reason to pass on a profile; he took photos with out a shirt on without a body of water nearby, even worse he was extremely ripped and could snap a body a life size Barbie in half with little effort; in his poolside photos he sports a ball hammock instead of swim trunks--he is European so I threw him a waiver on that one but still, at the Houstonian?! If he had a photo next to his car--I would have never emailed him back.

The last and most critical error was the growth of his cro-magnum bone on his forehead showing the signs of a long relationship with steroids. And I don't need anyone going OJ on my arse and beat me to death because I failed to have fresh breath, which apparently is all he requires along with my photos to prove I would be a decent match.

And believe it or not, I forgot my toothpaste that weekend and I am certain my breath was not that fresh at all. I did have gum but someone's dog actually ate it. Come to think of it, that guy hasn't called.


Oh, well!!


So today, I must shut down the phone again. I am packing for my trip to NY and I am cranky since I haven't had a carb in three days and I don't want to be rude to Roidboy in fear of my pretty little head being bashed in.

Blondes only appetite is for a Big Apple!!


Mercedes Benz Fashion Week






Now, who needs a saddle?!

Blondes like riding bare back!!


Del Friskeys

I was in Houston last week for my birthday bash. My friends took me to Del Friscos, twice. Once was enough. Del Friscos is an over rated steak house with a cruise ship appeal. Its swooping staircase, marble entry, tall ceilings, and massive granite bar with outstanding wine selection (as long as you purchase a bottle) brings in an array of patrons. I much preferred Uncle Tony’s when it was around. It was quiet, unpretentious and the best piano music for a bar this side of the Big Easy.

The first time we sat at the bar, I became fascinated with a very pretty brunette.
I was taken by her choice of fashion. A skintight aqua blue tank with a low dipping front and white hot pants with silver stiletto sandals. Not your usual style of dress for dinner and I quickly concluded that her profession was one of a lateral position.

I could be wrong but I am not!

The gentleman that paid for her company was conveniently located to the back of her. For she was focused on the more handsome men on the other side. At first, her temp for hire boss was pleased with the affirmations he was receiving from the many admirers of his paid girl. But that quickly subsided when he was completely ignored for the duration of drinks. He placed his hands on her shoulders and I actually felt her tighten up and cringe. She knew and I knew what was about to be. She was going to have to pony up the product.


I followed her to the bathroom, went into the stall next to hers, leaned in and listened closely through the metal divider wall.



If I were her, I would want to numb my life as well!!

The second night I was there, a woman had her hand down a gentleman’s (did I just say gentleman--that's funny!) pants giving him a discreet stroking of his Johnson (did I just say discreet—that’s funny, too!). Actually it was a bit discreet until he made a point to let me know he was just taken care of. He actually made a point to lean back in his chair and rearrange his wiggle stick and tuck in his shirt, meanwhile, looking at me.

And if someone looks at me I say hello...it’s the polite thing to do!

“Hi, that looked good. Make sure to tip her well!"

"Was it on the menu?"

"Did you have a coupon?"

"Did your date come free with the suit?”

I think their were responses back from them but I failed to hear any of it. I was focused on the little girl and her family that just passed by us on their way to the dining section.

Blondes can't stomach tacky!!


Dudz to Spudz

Dear Dudes and Dudettes, or do I mean Duds?

Regarding Bad Dates, not so bad, and/or I don't think a next time date:

Please don't bother trying to be nice...If it didn't work, it didn't work...whatever. I am not losing sleep over it and you don't have to call and act like your still interested to spare my feelings. What is the reasoning behind this? I don't understand it..you go on a couple of dates and find out the person doesn't work for you nor you for them but they try to pretend its something else and stays in touch...until when? until they need you for a booty call...that's when!!

They keep you on the rejected but still hot list. Keeping you on the end of the shoelace until they need to tie one on and call you to rectify their current situation due to there extreme boredom and loneliness,all the time wearing the 'buds for benefits' banner across their chest. I'm sorry but my philanthropic endeavors do not go beyond children and animals--I am way to valuable to give it up to be charitable and you sir are no 'bud' of any girls or guys if you use them for conjugal purposes only!

I prefer the old fashion way..you don't call me and I don't call you and eventually we both get the picture and no one gets insulted--especially me!!

Blondes don't buy into bootie calls!!


Houston We Have a Problem

Boo and Jesus are gone!! My family, my roommates, my confidants; they have left me with little more than food encrusted carpet, tack holes in the wall and a bunch of crazy cats that the shelter won’t take.

I walk by the room and the emptiness of where they sat almost every day bitching at each others attack approach on some online war game. The same game that took up all the bandwidth in the house and I couldn’t get on the internet. Many a missing blog was because of that wretched game. Now I would do anything to hear the blasting and the petty arguments this game inspired almost every night.

I didn't realize I was going through some sort of empty nest syndrome and I used Match dates to deal with it. I knew they were leaving for California and I to New York. I knew this day was coming. It sat in the back of my throat like a hard lump that couldn't be swallowed. I clung to my dates as if they were my baby blanket hoping they were going to satisfy some void that has been left behind; alas, no one quenched my thirst. I guess because I wasn’t thirsty for man. I was merely chasing a rabbit to get away from the fox hole that now has two less foxes in it. I am thirsty now but only because I caught up to my emotional rabbits and its a positive life loving, quenching kind of thirst now.

I did really like one guy on Match. I know because I was an idiot every time I called him, text him, or talked to him and I blonded up more than usual. I am fairly certain its not in the cards now. Oh well, its not the first time this has happened and I am sure it won't be the last time either, at least I hope it won't be! Its the only feeling I know that proves I am still capable of loving someone.
Its sort of like being at a party and you had way too much to drink and your trying to pull off cool but it can't be done and after you knock someones drink over, spill your purse and have to grab the contents off the floor around people's feet; you know its time to bail. You hang your head down and quietly leave, grab a cab and sob all the way home. Eventually I will get over it...I am sure it wasn't really what I made it out to be, anyway. At least that's my story and I am sticking to it.

Of course I am still having a hard time trying not to cry today over Boo and Jesus, and I don’t have anyone to hold me and tell me its alright but it seems my life has always been that way. When I need someone the most, that is when I am alone, probably because desperation doesn’t make for good bedfellows.

For now, I will have to rely on a 1988 Palmer Margaux Red Blend, sad movies,a box of tissue and a turned off cell phone this week.

Blondes are in a continuing eduction program!!

My Dates...

are dropping off the face of the earth.

Is the rapture here?

Am I not a chosen one?



I am glad Jewish men like Blondes!!


Single and Married Make Poor Mixers

I was working on an expose about single femmes being with a married man, for a certain cosmo women's rag. I wanted to find a new spin on an old cliché. Something along the lines of justifying it in today’s world. Everything is evolving around us so why shouldn’t the extra marital affair find a new place in society?

Affairs have been around forever and have been secretly accepted in the past because of a woman’s position in a time that offered no financial self preservation unless widowed by a wealthy man. She was forced to either marry or become a courtesan or a spinster. No other choices existed. So why now shouldn’t the affair come out into the open and become widely accepted? Because in a post feminist society there really isn’t any reason a single woman should need or want to be with a married man unless it is a business transaction.

I can almost understand but a single woman hooking up with a married man is only a fool that has hoodwinked herself into thinking there is merit to being the other woman beyond financial compensation. If you do a search of blogs concerned with this issue you will see a newly inducted member of this secret society make a stand on the merits only to be knocked off her pedestal by hundreds of comments made by women who have been there and done that. The t-shirt isn’t flattering at all!

Consider the first justification that I read on blogs about “the other woman”.

Not having to worry about commitment. Darling stop fooling yourself, there are plenty of single man that don’t want commitment so you will have to do better than that!!

OK second justification, still trying to grasp onto that thin blade of grass away from the scarlet letter applique.

Married men are less complicated.

Waiting for his call because you have to be careful not to disturb the lion’s den and the possibility of being called into derogatory in a messy divorce proceeding and child custody battle less complicated?

Not too mention, being alone on weekends, holidays, and vacations other than those he could fit you in on a business trip. Oh, but you can't order room service because it might show up on the bill.

Blah, Blah, Blah


Honestly, the only reason I can think of being with a married man is you have something their wife isn’t fulfilling and the married man will go the extra mile, economically speaking, to keep you happy and the bedroom door wide open for him.
For lack of better terminology, you’re a call girl that thinks she has a moral superiority over those more honest about their situation, because you are with one man that says he loves you. If he loved you he wouldn’t be married and bedding down with his wife.

He will promise to leave; he will say things to you that make you think he really wants more than a sexual relationship with you. He is looking for an eager participant in his lies and he preys on those that are easily manipulated. It is an insult to any woman that a married man thinks they can convince you of love.

If perhaps you fell unwittingly to man that hid the fact from you and you fell in love, well than I might have some compassion for your plight but only if you have done the honorable thing to yourself and break the engagement. If he really meant all the things he said about leaving his wife, he will do just that for you. But do you want to start a relationship that was based on deception? Will you be able to trust him when the time comes he tires of you as well?

So where does a story about a single woman being with a married man go? It goes nowhere just like the relationship. In the end you cannot justify being with anyone that belongs to someone else. Their discontent is not your problem but it will become yours if you continue down this path.

Take the noble root and follow the unwritten code of sisterhood. Stay away from a married man for your sake and the sake of the other woman, his wife.

Blondes wish only singles were allowed in!!

Boudoir Bliss

Blondes can get carried away and spend almost the entire morning playing in the powder room.On a day I don’t have anything particular to do and I am a million miles from civilization, like this weekend at my friend’s lakeside hacienda, I will pop a bottle of bubbly and soak in the tub and then preform a little mini spa treatment on myself, then slip into a cute little matching panty set and frolic around the place while listening to Madelaine Peyroux and Billy Holiday.

Unfortunately when spending time in several homes, you forget to pack certain essential items for survival, of which without; I wouldn’t die but I would be very, very unhappy.

First and most important is conditioner. I had travel conditioner but the over zealous guard at the gate on my Chicago trip took it as he was giving me a lecture on the importance of my containers being in a tacky plastic ziploc, instead of my Pucci makeup bag--Commie-- and no more than 3.5 oz. I PERSONALLY ignore any rule I deem utterly ridiculous and usually I skate through fine but on occasion, you get the prick that needs to pull some machismo.

Whatever dude! If I could buy my conditioner in the 3.5 oz. size, I would be happy to accommodate you but it doesn’t and I prefer to accommodate me! Don’t you see my 3 oz cans of crappy hairspray? At least I tried to obey some of the rules. He took my expensive conditioner and let me keep the spray.

"Do you get a commission?"

"What did you say?"

I said, "make sure to condition!"

I can keep the large medicinal items such as face cleanser and saline. He made no sense and was beginning to aggravate me but I just kept smiling all the time thinking to myself, “Its embarrassing when idiots try to show off something they don't have, like intelligence!”

For a blonde, conditioner is medicinal, you dumn pratt!

What did you say?

I said, I guess “That’s that.”

Next on my list of most important of items to complete my happiness is the elusive thin hair towel. I get whiplash just trying to keep the thick beach sized towel wrapped around my tresses. You have to balance the heap of terry exactly in the middle of your head while applying your make up. The sheer weight of the towel gives you neck strain. Then it begins to slowly shift to the left and you cock your head trying to keep it up long enough to finish the other eye. Eventually the towel unwinds and you have to tip your body back over, rewrap, and swing back in a forceful thrust sort of motion to keep the twist tight and then needing a chiropractic adjustment after the whole ordeal.

Eventually it becomes a burden to heavy to bear and I drop the biatch towel to the floor and settle on wet hair dribbling down my back. Long hair is a maintenance program all on its own. Its probably why many women prefer a no fuss short style effort but hair is sexy and I would feel naked without it.

The rest of the list that my bubble brain couldn’t get in the freaking bag when packing:

Micro scrubbie body sponge

How does anyone live without the proverbial tip after a shower? Mind boggling how good it feels to swab the inner ear. It feels so good, I could go blind doing it too often!!

Blondes have shopping to do!!


Blondies Bi!!

I met this guy at a party ...I wasn't sure if he was metrosexual or gay and quite frankly how do you ask a question like that without offending..I was thrown about because had I met him in New York or L.A... I wouldn't have given his attire a second thought but in Texas...you can end up scaring the cows wearing a pink tie and zute suit.

To soften the blow the blow of my question, I asked if he was bi..I retired from fag hag status a couple of years ago, after finishing fashion design, and I have lost my gaydar capabilities..you kind of have to have a gay man around to keep you tuned and ...well....I'm not tuned.


I think he had to make a point he was not gay!

Fine your not gay!

He could be bi...further investigation as to the synergy of the relationship would be imperative to offer substantial evidence to the contrary but at this point in time I feel the subject must be redirected to other sources...


I hurried through the test phase (first date) and ended up with results with little data to fill in the blanks and quite frankly..

You can't have a meaningful love affair with blanks!!

More importantly, I don't compete against men!

Blondes are one sided on certain things!!

Creepy Creative

I think she is a pretty little girl but should she really be making casseroles for grown men on Match.com?

Blondes don't have cooking skills!


Borrowed from another Blog

http://view.break.com/527579 - Watch more free videos

Sorry I have to let someone do my dirty work this week but I am still on holiday!!

The Blonde is speechless, for now!!

Emergency Blondcast System

This has been a holiday. For the last four days and today
, this blog will conduct a test of the Emergency Blondcast System. This is only a test.

If this had been an actual emergency, you would have been instructed to turn to one of the bars in your area.

The Blonde will resume broadcast by the end of the day!!!


The Payment Plan

My position on dutch treat stands.

Men don't go through half the preparation we go through for a date.

Cute matching panty set

The least they can do is buy the dinner!

Blondes like a well balance budget!!


Drinks are on the house...

when I am on a date and so is dinner and anything else I want to do!!

There was an idiot from the other night who actually waited for me to grab my wallet and pay half the tab.

"Oops my Blonde. I forgot my wallet of plastic. Will you except a check for my half?"

Sorry kid, the Majors decided your not right for the League!

I don't pay!

I don't think I have to pay!

I won't pay!


Who told you a Blonde should pay?

The girls that insist on paying there way?

A word to my not so non-fellow neo-feminazis trying to ruin a good thing...

What do you accomplish by paying your way?

You don't honestly think that if the man pays for dinner you owe him sex do you?

Why do you insist on paying or get insulted if they try to open the door.

What are you?

Why don't you pay for a penis and date girls?

Than you can pay all the time and never have doors opened for you.


Where in the alien world of dog do you think the chick should pay her way to come see a man?

Dude dig in that bendable leather bank inside your back butt pocket and log online to Delta Blu and either book your flight to me or book my flight to you.

Otherwise stay local with your dating d'jour.

or get the girl with the penis...they love to pay for their share!

Blondes make the men pay!!


Match.com is not a legitimate...

health expense?


The insurance company is questioning the use of my HSA fund in regards to Match.com.

On the line of which I am to provide my illness:

I wrote

love sick

Am I supposed to have a broken heart before they will pay out?!

Blondes like a preventive approach!

Alright, so I am not a tree

I am more the variety of social butterfly that after a months worth of flying from dinner to dinner with gents is in serious need of a little R&R and definitely ready for just one man. I really am beginning to miss sex and without a steady, I am SOL.

and I hate being S.O.L.

and last nights battery shortage did not help!!

Its a mission that I hope to wrap up fairly quickly because now I am just a bit tired of being charming and romantic and witty and having perfect hair for every man that sits across my table.

And than it hit me like a bug to my windshield!

I am charming

and witty

and incredibly engaging

and I have perfect hair (I have great just rolled out of bed hair too!!).

I should get more than a dinner and a drink from all this work!

I am going to be a trade show model!

How hard can it be hosting a big bash of men all day, and yes I know, some of the ladies too. Although I am not a fan of women in general, I do well with them on a public, stay an arms distance away, kind of level.

Why not work the trade shows as a model? At least until my manuscripts are complete. This job would open up a lot more free time, I would be mobile, it pays ridiculously well for the work, and I have accumulated enough experience just by being who I have always been.

If you think about it, dating is nothing more than selling yourself. For the most part we are the product: our character, our personality,our intellect our looks. You are basically pitching yourself every time you go out with someone new.

Now, I assume there will be some element of reputation control at these events, after all, it is a modeling job--your already considered stupid before you hit the catwalk. I am one step below the chick who turns the big plastic letters on TV. But I assure you, my reputation has never wavered. Even in college, my panties never found there way to the walls of shame at certain fraternities down the block. And even if I get slack for being a brainless model, whatever!
Its not like any guy who goes to these events will impress me anyway!!

Most of these men, which I have had the misfortune of running into at Eddie V's during certain conventions here in Austin ( its so typical they would choose the expensive steak house on their boss' dime) act like debaucherous fools without proper etiquette. There like school boys who have seen there first breast, pointing and making comment to friends about girls that just walk by the table in a short dress. Its the equivalent of walking by construction workers in New York City and getting whistled at only worse because they are in MY 4 star gig with their 2 star manners.

What the hell? I will troll Myspace for a budding photographer to keep the cost of head shots down and put together a resume of work from private parties and corporate charity events I hosted on a regular basis with a few of my Ex's and I am good to go.

Blondes like skipping on stepping stones!!


Blonde Godess

Apollo and Daphne begins with the God of love Eros (Cupid).

My thoughts of being Blonde at the moment:

Daphne wanted nothing to do with men, male Gods, or sexual desire, or marriage. Apollo used all his arts to woo her but she ran away whenever she saw him.
He pretended to be a mortal man but than revealed himself as a God. Nothing he said made a difference.

During the chase, Daphne ran down hill toward the river Peneus.
She stopped and knelled at the river and begged...

"Help me father! If you have any powers as a river god, use them now to save me for ever!"

At that moment, her feet welded to the soil, her body became thinner, her skin grew a layer of bark, her arms became branches, her fingers became leaves, and she became the laurel tree.

And trees don't answer the phone!!

The Blonde is being still this weekend!

The writings on the wall

Get your mind out of the gutter!!

The Blonde wants a pair in pink!!

Existentially Speaking

What does it say about me that Jesus dropped to the floor right behind me.

I was at the mean-Eyed Cat, minding my own business, listening to Johnny Cash singing, 'I will wait for you' on the jukebox. I was singing along to him in my head with not a thought on my mind when suddenly something right behind my head came crashing to the floor.

The other patrons and I all looked at the glass piece on the floor. I got up from my rickety old stool and picked up the pane. I turned it over and glanced at it.


Everyone looked.

"Its a picture of Jesus that fell to the floor and its cracked!", I exclaimed.

The gentleman to my left said," If that isn't a sign to stay away from you, I don't know what is."


I said, "Imagine!! you get 7 years for a broken mirror. How many years will I receive for breaking Jesus?"

I handed over the glass to the bartender and went back to listening to the juke which was now playing a Willy Nelson song.
I sat and wondered for a moment thinking about the 'sign'and then all of the sudden... a pair of panties stapled on the wall above the juke caught my attention, "Eat the Kitty" the panties had stamped on them.

I laughed.

I took a photo of the underwear and inquired about a pair but they were all out of small. Only large was left. Should they even make a pair in large?

The thought of the fallen Jesus quickly diminished.

Still, now I can't help but wonder?

Maybe Johnny and Jesus were speaking to me at that moment. I wish I knew what was on their mind. Probably the same thing as mine. I just was too deep in thought to think about it!!

Blondes like signs that say something!!