MY MIND WANDERED — and never came back!

Since this is the first Christmas that we will have had a cat in our house, I have been looking for tips on how to decorate our tree with as little fuss as possible from the overly curious cat.

If you are among the 60% of people who live in a house owned by a cat, then you will probably appreciate the following tips on Christmas tree decorating that I have compiled just for you.

The first thing you will need to do when decorating your tree is…

Please wait a second while I check my notes…

Okay, the first thing you’ll need to do is to go out and get a tree.

Please keep in mind that the perfect tree which you found at the tree lot will grow approximately one and a half to two feet in height during the drive home. In order to save the trouble of taking the tree in and out of your house two or three times, you may want to just go ahead and chop off two feet near the bottom of the tree right away. (the trunk of the tree, not your two feet.) That is unless you like your tree pushing against the ceiling causing the branches to turn down like a weeping willow.

Next, take your tree inside and place it in the tree stand and check that the tree is straight and not leaning too much toward either side. I can’t speak for everyone, but I personally hate a crooked Christmas tree.

Now, you will need the decorations. After you have gotten your lights and ornaments from the attic it’s time to begin putting them on the tree.

Remove the cat from the tree and straighten it again so that it isn’t leaning too much toward either side. (the tree, not the cat) Remove the decorations from the storage bin and begin with the lights. You’ll want to add them to the tree first. Always check that the wires aren’t frayed which can be a fire hazard. Plug the lights into the outlet and check for burned out bulbs that might need to be replaced. Place lights on the tree.

Remove cat from the storage bin and unwind him from the garland. The garland will be placed on the tree next. Begin at the top of the tree and work your way to the bottom, draping the garland over the branches while simultaneously smacking at the cat as you go.

Notice the smell of burning hair and attempt to locate the source. Unplug the lights and remove the cat from your back. Be extremely careful because his claws have dug in really deep. Make sure the cat’s fur has stopped smoking and that he is okay. Take cat to the kitchen and give him a bowl of milk.

Go back to the tree and check the damage to the lights. To prevent a fire hazard, put electrical tape around the place where the cat bit into the wire.

Next you will be adding the ornaments. Crawl around under the sofa and coffee table and gather up all the ornaments where the cat has scattered them. You’ll want to hang the ornaments on the tree evenly to create a balanced look.

Begin hanging the lighter smaller ornaments at the top of the tree, working your way down. Try to stop crying because the cat broke the one your kid made when he was in fourth grade. You can probably repair it with super glue. Or duct tape. Keep working your way toward the bottom of the tree until you have finished hanging all the ornaments.

Now it’s time to put the tree skirt around the bottom. Unroll the tree skirt from around the cat and place it under the tree (the tree skirt, not the cat) covering the trunk and making it look like a snow drift. Remove the cat’s claws from the tree skirt and rearrange it. Now that the tree is all decorated it’s time to place the brightly wrapped packages under it.

Step back and admire your handiwork. Pick up the squalling cat and pet him while you apologize for stepping on his tail.

If you placed your tree in front of a window, you’ll want to go outside and see how it looks from the street. This will probably be the most enjoyable part of all as you stand there looking through your window at the beautifully decorated tree and imagining what those passers by will have to say about it.

Watch in fascination as the cat smacks the angel from the top of the tree while swinging from the garland by one paw.

Go back inside and remove the cat from the tree, repair the damaged ornaments and rehang them. Have some hot apple cider, listen to some Christmas music on the stereo and bask in the spirit of the holiday season while shooing the cat away from the tree.

Relax and learn to enjoy the tree decorating thing. Chances are you’ll end up doing it eleventeen hundred times or more before the holidays are over — or until the cat gets bored with the tree –whichever comes first.

I couldn’t begin to count on the phalanges of both hands, the number of people who have written in to ask me the following question: Leeuna, what is the latest trend in the fashion world of criminal activity — mainly armed robbery?

First of all, let me just say I am honored that so many of you trust my fashion sense and I’m humbled that you have chosen to come to me for advice on the season’s latest styles and fashion trends.

While keeping an eye on the fashion world I’ve noticed that a lot of bank robbers this year are choosing to wear the more wildly creative costumes and robbery apparel. It seems that within the criminal sector, ski masks and pantyhose have become very “last-season” and appear to have gone the way of the eighties style leisure suits. Only the very poorly dressed criminal can be seen wearing the standard ski mask or pantyhose on his head these days.

Dressing as characters from TV shows or movies has become quite popular. Like the bank robber in New York, dressed as Star Wars villain Darth Vader who made off with an undetermined amount of cash after pointing a handgun at startled tellers inside a Chase bank branch on Long Island.

The week before that, a Manhattan bank was robbed by a man carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. The same man had robbed another bank earlier in the week while carrying a large potted plant.

There have also been incidents where men have robbed banks dressed as women and of female robbers dressed as men.

In 2007 a man robbed a bank dressed in tree branches and leaves. In August, a woman was arrested for reportedly robbing a bank in Pennsylvania — dressed as a clown. And in Orangeburg, S.C., a robber tried to steal money bags from a bank’s night deposit drop box using fishing line and hooks. I’m guessing he was wearing his lucky fishing hat and was probably fishing from the boat that was hooked to the trailer hitch on his pickup truck.

So, yeah, my advice is,  if you plan on robbing banks, you simply need to be creative. There are no hard and fast rules for criminal fashion this season. Well, except for the standard “don’t-wear-white-after-Labor-Day” rule.

And for petty thievery, there are several outfits that you might find to your liking. For example, back in October a teenager’s bicycle was stolen by three people dressed like a chicken and two apes. The apes shoved the boy to the ground and the chicken rode away on the bike, according to the reports. Incidentally this also happened in Long Island, N.Y.

In Farmingdale, N.Y., a robber wearing black clothing and a Scream mask attempted to rob a Dunkin Doughnuts shop, but an employee sprayed him with hot water from the kitchen hose and the robber ran away without any money — or doughnuts. Perhaps he will use the front entrance the next time as opposed to barging in through the back door.

Several other odd criminal disguises include a bank robber who dressed up as a tree, another who used duct tape to cover his face, and one who wore a beer box on his head.  I’m thinking that he misunderstood when someone told him that a Moosehead would be a good disguise.

In closing, let me just say that no matter what you decide to wear whether it be to a bank heist or a simple 7-11 grab and go, please dress accordingly. Be creative, allow your personality to shine through. And most of all, have fun.

…because the rest of us are having a blast reading about you in the news.

Does this collar make me look fat?

Hello Internet Peoples.

My name is Sheba and I’m a dog, but I hope you won’t let that scare you away. I don’t bite, and I’ve had all my shots.

I’m upset and confused, and I need someone to talk to.

The thing is, I’m worried about my humans, among other things.

Take today for example:

They hung this white fluttery thingy on the porch just above my head. Then they put two big round oranges…

Wait a minute…

“Huh?”

Oh, Shadow just told me that they’re called pumpkins, or Jack-O-Lanterns…anyway they have these big scary eyes that glow, and snaggely teeth…the pumpkins, not the humans…and the humans put them on the top of the porch rail. Next, they hung a bunch of bones up in the middle of the porch, and then put spiders all over it.

Spiders, I tell you! They know I don’t like spiders.

Shadow is acting all brave and pretending like he knows what all this is about, but I don’t trust him sometimes. He is always telling me things to scare me or get me into trouble. So pardon me if I question his explanation.

He says the humans do this every year around this time, but I don’t remember them doing it last year. Of course I was just a wee little baby, so maybe I just didn’t notice.

But wait, that’s not the bad part.

Shadow says that it’s all about this thing called a Halloween and on that night, the little humans come to the door and our humans give them TREATS!!!

This is a total outrage! Why would our humans give away our treats?! Our Snausages, our bacon, our rawhide chews…oh, the pain. The agony! I can’t stand it. I have to do something to stop this craziness.

“Huh?”

Oh, Shadow just told me that the humans give them CANDY treats. Well, that’s certainly more like it. They can have all the candy they want, but if I smell ONE piece of bacon or snausage I may have to bite somebody.

“Huh?”

Shadow just reminded me that we’re inside the fence and we can’t get anywhere near the little humans.

But don’t think I won’t bark. I will! I’ll bark and bark until they all go away. I’ll bark and growl and…

“Huh?”

What’s a muzzle? What’s a shock collar? I think Shadow’s trying to scare me again.

I don’t think I like this thing the humans call Halloween.

That Sheba! She's such a Scaredy Cat! Teeeheee.

Welcome to stop #10 on the Hugs Therapy Virtual Tour 2010. Today I’d like to introduce you to my good friend and author Marvin D. Wilson of The Old Silly’s Free Spirit Blog.

Marvin’s latest book, Beware The Devils Hug has just been released and I’m pleased to report that I’ve read it, liked it, and I’d like to share my thoughts on the book with you.

Actually when I started reading it, I couldn’t put it down — fast enough. Haha. Just a little book humor there to keep with the fact that this is a humor blog and not a real book review blog. However, all jokes aside I would like to be serious for a moment, or at least for the remainder of this post.

I’m quite certain that most of you who read my blog regularly are like me, in that I don’t have a lot of time to read — especially book length novels. And also, like me, I’m sure that when you do find the time to relax and enjoy a good book you’re looking for something that is truly worth the time you spend reading. Something written by a talented author who speaks to you through the characters in the book; a plot that will keep you turning the pages quickly as you devour each word; and an ending that ties the whole thing together in a neat package and leaves you thinking about it long after you’ve closed the covers on the very last page.

Marvin D. Wilson is that kind of author and his latest book, Beware The Devil’s Hug is that kind of book — the kind that leaves the reader with the feeling of time well spent. Wilson’s writing style has been described by some as “reminiscent of a 21st century Mark Twain”. Beware The Devils Hug contains a myriad of action and drama with surprising twists that will have you literally holding your breath at times. You’ll find yourself bonding with the characters as you follow them through the chapters of their lives and learn their deepest thoughts and secrets.

Love, hatred, pain, laughter, intrigue, passion, betrayal, sacrifice, victory — this book has it all. The reader will experience the gamut of emotions beginning on the first page and ending with the last. And yet the lessons you may learn from the theme of the story will follow you long after, and may even change the way you view the world and the people around you.

Having shared my positive feelings about the book and the author’s wonderfully creative writing style, I would be less than honest with you if I did not add the following disclaimer to this review:

I would not recommend the book to anyone under the age of 17, due to the strong language and  graphic sex scenes between certain leading characters throughout the book. However, as I said before that is a matter of personal preference and not everyone will share my views on what they think is appropriate for teens.

Following is the book trailer for Beware The Devils Hug.
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About the author

Author Marvin D. Wilson has a widely varied and rich life experience background – from Hippie Rock and Roll musician, to nightclub entertainer, to Zen Buddhist minister, to carpenter, to small business owner, to network marketer, to sales and sales training, to skilled trades instructor and adult education teacher, to public speaker and motivational coach, to now in his chosen “golden years” career, a writer and multi-published author with the self-proclaimed, “audacity to write novels”.

To see the schedule for Marvin’s blog book tour and learn about the contests, prizes, and giveaways, visit the Hugs Therapy Virtual Tour page at The Old Silly’s Free Spirit blog. The blog also features more reviews and information about Marvin’s other books.

Be sure to visit Jane Sutton’s blog tomorrow for more about Marvin and his book.

You can order your copy of Beware the Devil’s Hug in paperback or Kindle e-book at amazon.com.

People, have you ever felt embarrassed by something you’ve done, even though no one was around to see you do it? Talk about a weird feeling! It’s almost impossible to describe.

Have you ever read something that you think is hilarious only it wasn’t really funny. The only reason it made you laugh is because you misread one of the words? I have. In fact I did that this morning.

A terrific writer and a very dear friend of mine, Newt Harlan, writes an email newsletter each week to which I have been a subscriber for several years. I always look forward to reading his newsletter with my Monday morning coffee. His writing is a mix of nostalgia, inspiration, humor and observations that make you nod and say “yes, I know just how that goes.”

Anyway, this morning I poured myself a cup of coffee, opened his email and settled back to read. I scanned the page and one of the subtitles read “Cleaning Out My Notes“. Only I read it as “Cleaning Out My Nose“. I immediately cracked up with laughter. Then when I finished laughing and wiped the tears away from my eyes and reread it, I realized it said Notes — not Nose.

I stopped reading, looked around, coughed nervously, then said to myself — out loud — “Oh well, that was embarrassing.”

This weeks’s edition of Honest Lies and Other Misguided Thoughts was funny and interesting and a great read, but nothing Newt had written made me laugh as hard as I did at the title I had misread.

It may have been written like some of those food commercials in movie theaters, or some of that devil worship music that the church used to try and get banned. I’m going back and read it again, only this time I’m going to read it backward, very slowly — perhaps there’s a subliminal message in there that says he’s cleaning out his nose.

However, I doubt that Newt would do that — I think I was just a tad crazy this morning.

PS If anyone would like to subscribe to Honest Lies and Other Misguided Thoughts, you can do so by sending an email to Newt at: newt281 (at) comcast.net.

As the November election grows closer, more and more people seem to be suffering from the dreaded condition known as Electile Dysfunction. The candidates — both the incumbents and their challengers — as well as the groups operating separately from the parties or the candidates are being blamed for all the suffering.

Electile Dysfunction, sometimes called “voter indecision,” is the repeated inability to vote for or elect a candidate during an election. The word “indecision” may also be used to describe other problems that interfere with the normal function of the caucus or the gubernatorial, leaving the voter with a feeling of total inadequacy during an election homestretch.

Electile Dysfunction, or (The Other ED, as some of us prefer to call it) can be a total inability to sort out all the negativity we are receiving from the current political ad campaigns, an inconsistent ability to find anything worthy in any of the candidates, or a tendency to sustain only brief moments of clarity during the viewing of this year’s blitz of negative ads.

These thirty second TV attacks  range from name calling to outright accusations of cheating, thieving, infidelity, and even treason by the opposing candidates. How are we, the voters, expected to function in such an environment?

According to the National Media Crap Survey (NMCS), for every 1,000 voters in the United States, 7.7 psychiatrist office visits were made for ED in 2007.  By 2010, that rate has nearly tripled to 22.3. The increase happened gradually, presumably as more mud-slinging and negativity became the trend for your average political advertising campaign; political debates became more widely accusatory; and discussing Electile Dysfunction became accepted.

Due to the widespread use of the term ED and the exhaustive research and development of new drugs to treat the condition, suffering voters now have hope of a cure for the debilitating illness.

A new drug called Voteagra is now on the market. The drug contains laffitoff, a key ingredient that enables voters to laugh their way to the polls on Tuesday 2 November. Laffitoff, combined with eeniemeenieminemo will allow the voter to stumble into the voting booth and punch buttons at random, thereby at least electing someone to fill the offices being fought over.

In the end, this may be just as effective as the former elections where we voted based on our beliefs in the system and our belief that there was still a few people out there who were fit for office.

Caution: If, after taking Voteagra, you have an election lasting longer than 24 hours, contact your nearest Federal Election Commission. Do not take more than the recommended dosage. May cause confusion if administered to the news media.

I’ve often felt that the government should stop sending people on all those fact-finding missions, since they merely return home a week later, all hung-over and factless. Fact-finding missions often result in nothing more than wasteful spending. I know this for a fact.

Because…

Last week, I went on a fact-finding mission for a blog post I was working on concerning the correct usage of grammar. I got the idea for the subject after reading a post by MikeWJ over at Too Many Mornings.

While in the fact-finding library, I spied the book that I needed for my research. It was perched precariously on the very top shelf. Instead of asking for assistance or using the ladder, I stood on tiptoe and jiggled the book loose from the shelf where it fell with a bang striking me on my head and knocking me to the floor where I lay surrounded by adverbs, pronouns, adjectives, and loose punctuation, along with the previous run-on sentence. My eyes were full of question marks and periods and an exclamation mark was stuck in my ear. I swallowed a couple of subjects and nearly choked to death.

Now I am suffering from a condition known as Basic Sentence Parts, or BSP.

BSP is caused by a blow to the head from smart objects such as a heavy word processor or gigantic books with titles like: “English Grammar and Its Correct Usage In Creative Writing That Will Help You With Writing Your Blog Post About Correct Grammar Usage”.

The symptoms of BSP can range from mild to severe. Mine are proving to be quite severe and I have been instructed by my doctor to cease and desist with my writing until such time as the BSP is cured, or my gross overuse of ellipses has been corrected. (After all, there are only so many ellipses in the world and we must conserve a few of them for future generations)

My condition has worsened over the past 24 hours. My clauses have become insubordinate, my participles have begun to dangle; I’ve misplaced my modifiers and my verbs are tense. My nouns have become very possessive and they refuse to answer to their proper names. I’m unable to ‘pronouns’ some words correctly. And if that isn’t bad enough, I’m almost certain that I split my infinitive when I fell down.

Also, I think I may be suffering from overactive thesaurus and I probably have encyclopedia. According to the team of grammar surgeons, they will need to perform a dictionary on my predicates.

Since there is always a lot of punctuation going on between two independent clauses, the doctors will attempt to connect them by inserting a coordinating conjunction.

They gave me some parentheses for the pain. I am now an indirect object for the treatment but I’m in a very adjective state. Perhaps I’m simply going through a bad prepositional phrase, brought on by inhaling such a vast amount of infinitives and gerunds.

Now they’ll probably have to do a semicolonoscopy as well.  Interjection!!

And why on earth did the librarian put that grammar book that everybody reads out of up there for? It darn near knocked me out.

Please pardon the prepositional ending; I’ve just slipped into a comma.

Disclaimer: The above post was written through a purple haze brought on by over-medicating. If it makes no sense to you, don’t be alarmed. I don’t know what I’m talking about either.

I still have a terrible cold and someone asked what I was taking for it. I said I’d take five dollars or best offer, in case anyone is interested in purchasing it.

Dear Media People,
Why are you all falling all over one another to get a personal quote, or a snippet of gossip concerning people who are doing things that nobody cares to read about?

Do you actually feel this is the kind of reporting that will win you a Pulitzer? Although it does raise a few questions, they are the same ones we ask ourselves all the time.

For instance, I will never understand why young beautiful girls would rather date “bad boys” — boys who pose nude for Playgirl, and knock up teenage girls.  I think a lot of young girls actually enjoy driving their mother crazy. Worrying her to the point where she runs for vice-president, believes she can see Russia from her back yard, and uses made-up words like refudiate, on Twitter.

The media is all abuzz over Bristol Palin and her off again, on again, off again engagement to her baby daddy Levi  Johnston.  I am sorry that he was such a douche, and that he waited until they got reengaged before he told her that he had another kid with another teenage girl, but gee whiz. Is this news?

She was just like every other teenage girl in America. Is this something that the media should swarm all over, like a bunch of killer bees? It’s the same old story — just a different girl.

Down through the ages, parents have warned their daughters against dating “bad boys”. Young pretty girls who could probably date any one of the nice boys in their class: like the math whiz with the gianormous glasses; or the science geek with the Einstein hair; or perhaps the school Chess Champion. But noooo!  They choose to date the vampire, or the reform school graduate, who probably received his varsity letter for outstanding achievement in auto theft or grand larceny.

This kind of thing happens every day and I’m sorry but it doesn’t equal headline news.

Chelsea Clinton’s wedding is another bit of news that is not real news.  The look on my face right now is the look of me not caring. I couldn’t care less about the wedding or the after-party. For three days prior to the wedding the media swarmed around the former First Family, reporting on everything from who was planning to attend the wedding, to the kind of clothes the family wore each time they left the hotel. I really didn’t care that former president, Bill Clinton, greeted the media the day before the wedding dressed in blue jeans and a casual shirt. Nothing he could wear would be newsworthy now — not after he wore Monica Lewinsky around the oval office.

Another thing I don’t care about is Lindsy Lohan’s jail time and that the judge ordered her to attend rehab. We have a lot of drunks and addicts in our town. I pass people on the street every day who should be in rehab. I’ve even worked with a few of them, but it has never been considered news.

And today the headlines read, Interview: Woods’ ex-wife went ‘through hell’. Well, honey, a lot of us have. Suck it up and get over it. Life does go on. I “went through hell” three times, but it didn’t make headlines. And my exes were even worse skuzzbags than Tiger Woods…if that were possible I mean.  Don’t make me demand equal coverage.

And don’t even get me started on Kate and her eight or the baby-spewing octomom.

So In closing, Media People, please go find some real news and report it. Frankly I’m tired of all this fluff.

Thank you,
A disinterested reader

This week the theme for Theme Thursday is the word equal. If you have time hop over to the website and see what others have to say about equal.

Hello Internets. I’m back. Finally. It’s been a long week without you. What do you mean, “have I been away?”

Well heck yeah!

On Thursday night, I was at my computer when my router-DSL-box-thingy — whatever it’s called — suddenly went from all green lights to one red light and I could no longer access the internet.

I unplugged the box and waited the required minute then plugged it back in — this is supposed to reset the service — but this time it didn’t. I tried the reset button located in the back of the box. This didn’t work either. I checked all the terminals, checked that the phone was still working — I have my DSL service through the phone company — the phone still had service.

After all this, I gave up and called Technical Service and they immediately confirmed the problem. My router-DSL-box-thingy wasn’t working.

Tech service informed me that I would need to order a new box from the phone company and that it would take up to four business days for it to arrive via UPS. Since it was the weekend, that meant that my Internet service would be down until I received the new router-box-thingy around Wednesday or Thursday.

A whole week without being able to access the Internet. I didn’t know if I’d survive or not, but I sighed, sucked it up and waited.

Day one wasn’t too bad. I busied myself with other things like cleaning the house a little more thoroughly as opposed to the lick and promise I usually give it. I cleaned cobwebs and mopped under the refrigerator and cleaned behind the couch. I quickly became bored with cleaning and decided to read.

On day two, I read a book by Dave Barry which made me laugh out loud, but then it made me sad because it reminded me of some of my favorite funny blogs and I wondered what great posts I was missing. I went to bed early and slept and dreamed that my Internet friends had all deserted me, and that no one had sent an email or commented on my blog.

I woke up crying on day three. I decided to go shopping for some personal items that I needed, like hair color and underwear. Wayne needed to buy some arrows for his bow so he could get in a little archery practice before deer season opens next month so we went to Wal-Mart. This made me sad because I saw a few people who would have looked great on the www.peopleofwalmart.com web site.

Day four dawned grey and gloomy. I sat by the window for hours staring at the empty road, wishing for the UPS truck to come. I told Wayne that this made me sad and he threw a box of tissue at me and told me to chug on over to Mamby Pamby Land and see if I could find some self confidence. Then he called me a ‘jack wagon” and a “cry baby”. Or that might have been coming from the TV. At this point I was having a hard time distinguishing between reality and imagination.

The morning of day five, I was sure that my box would come. I sat beside the window and suddenly a brown UPS vehicle came into view. It slowly drove past my house. I ran outside and what followed was like the sad closing scene from the old 1953 Western film “Shane,” where Joey runs after Shane as he rides away, and shouts, “Shane, come back! Shane!” Only I was chasing the UPS truck instead of a man on a horse.

I threw myself face-down on the bed and cried. I knew I just had be able to log in to my blog soon. I began to worry that it might burn down or that someone might break in and trash it. Oh my Gosh! Did I remember to unplug the iron? And I think I left the coffee pot on…

Wayne woke me a couple hours later and handed me a box. “The UPS guy left this on the back porch. I think it’s what you’ve been waiting for.”

I grabbed the package, ripped it open, flew to my office, plugged it in and suddenly I had green lights — and Internet service! I’ll write a blog post soon. Right now I’m too busy dancing a jig.

Well, bless my sweet Vidalia onion!  You can’t swing a cross lately without hitting a vampire. What is all this fascination with them lately?

According to the Teen Choice Awards which were held in Universal City, CA on Sunday, Aug. 8 — vampires rule. The “Twilight Saga” dominated last Sunday’s ceremony with 12 wins, including choice fantasy movie and villain, while “The Vampire Diaries” raked in seven awards at the taped ceremony, which aired Monday night on Fox. Besides the bazillion cougars twilight moms who are falling all over themselves over both the books and the movies, and totally embarrassing their kids, the Twilight Saga is reported to have a huge teenage following as well.

Actually, vampire shows have been popular to some extent for a long time.  And I will confess that I loved the TV series “Angel,” but that was only because of David Boreanaz.  But lately it seems that vampire novels, vampire-based TV shows and movies about vampires have basically taken over the entertainment sector. In fact, vampires are becoming worse than detectives and doctors at hogging the airwaves.

I blame Stephenie Meyer for all this. She shouldn’t have written the Twilight book series in the first place. What business did she have, writing all those bestsellers and becoming one of the hottest authors of our time, plus getting all famous and filthy rich off the movie rights… According to her biography, she claims the idea for Twilight, the first book of the series, came to her in a dream. Pffft! And she’s a Mormon, for God’s sake!

Don’t you roll your eyes at me! I am not jealous. Okay, maybe I am a little jealous. Okay, a lot jealous. Fine. It makes me want to punch something. I’ve had lots of interesting dreams before and I could totally be a Mormon.

Sorry. Where was I? Oh yeah, the book series…

That’s what  revived the vampire craze. Then the books were followed by movies based on the  books.  This spawned a deluge of new TV shows like: The Gates, True Blood, The Vampire Diaries, and on and on…

Give us a break already.

I think there may even be vampire questions on our college SATs in the future.

Perhaps questions like:

“Two vampires are at the train station. One vampire boards train A and the other vampire boards train B. Both trains leave the station at exactly 10:30. Which vampire brushed his teeth that morning?”

Of course the answer is “neither”.  Have you ever witnessed a vampire brushing his teeth in any of these shows? Ever seen them use mouthwash or floss their fangs?

Being immortal is no excuse for poor oral hygiene.  Just wait until they get a cavity in one of those fangs, then they’ll bloody-well wish they’d paid more attention to the four out of five dentists who are always recommending stuff.

Actually now that I think of it, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen one of them take a shower either. They just hang around in the dark all the time wearing black leather jackets or overcoats, waiting for the sun to set so they can go out for a bite.

And speaking of going out for a bite, it’s almost noon and I can’t wait to read another chapter of “Breaking Dawn” — the last book in the Twilight Series — while I eat my lunch. Yeah, I know. I’m a hypocrite.