Brits-Butts-A-Natta-Licious

Oh yeah, it’s happening again. Writer’s block! Here I tried to write up a little something for my writer’s group about tween poshness, and it turned into a jigsaw puzzle of plagiarized borrowed phrases from my favorite fashion magazines – W and Vogue (and some Wolcott from VF thrown in for good measure). Blah!!!!! HELP!!!!

Aside from almost dissolving into tears of boredom from two EXTREMELY long meetings today, and losing sleep due to my cold and my dog all of the sudden turning into “Jack Torrance” in the middle of the night, I’m still managing to keep an even keeled crabby mood for a good ten hours plus and running. Good for me!

I called to make an appointment today for some cholesterol lab work, and they told me that I had to fast for 12 hours, avoid exercise for 3 days, and not chew gum for 8 hours prior to the appointment. Who came up with this wacked out study that determined gum chewing, exercising and eating at integrated hours was bad for a blood test? Give me a break! I may just chew up some Bubbalicious right beforehand to piss them off.

The latest names to make the reports through the social service system in Chicago? “LaTwinkle” and “Peaches n’ Cream” (yes, first name and a boy).

Yeah, I saw the Britney ass pic yesterday, and let me tell you something – not impressed! Okay, I’m not one to be talking about other people’s asses, but really people – she’s white trash inside and out!!! Who the fuck is walking around in the shortest frickin’ tarted up "Elly May Clampett" black tight-ass smock dress with your gelatinous ass cheeks flashing the whole fucking world? Who’s to blame, Britney? Paris??? Bring back the 2000 Britney, Britney! That’s the Britney some strange people would like to remember (even though she was a whorey nothing-at-all white talentless trash back then, too. See? I told you I was crabby).

Today, I was totally dressed up for work – like overkill. Why? Too lazy to iron or wash anything . Sad. Yes, I strutted my red suede skirt I bought in NYC in 2001, my cool punk rock black moon boots from Giardon in Chicago, my Eileen Fisher black sweater and short cardigan (not a huge fan of Gunney Sac Eileen wear, but sometimes you just gotta go with the flow). All this for a crabby mood and boring meetings. Isn’t that a fashion tragedy?

Hmmm. Predictable headlines for the paper tomorrow?

The US: Turning a bad situation into another bad situation.

Iraq? We’ll free you from your dictator and instead bring you civil war!

Africa? We’ll cure your hunger until you all become fat and die early of heart disease! Just like us!