War of the acronyms

Props to these die-hard Clinton fans for coining the term puma, which stands for "Party Unity My Ass." They also came up with HOUND, which stands for "Hell, Obama's Unqualified, No Deal " to counter an Obama supporter's use of HOUND to mean "Hillary Obama United Not Divided" in response to the original puma.

Click here if you want to hear "Hound Dog" by Elvis Presley "groovin' on a HillPod." (I will give them HillRaisers despite the annoying cutsey-ness, but I will most certainly not give them Hillpod.)

On a sidenote, did anyone else notice they switched back to "Variety" from "Source"? Good move, whoever made that call. What does "Source" mean anyway? And yes, I noticed this while cutting crossword puzzles out of old newspapers for entertainment on my trip. I am just that nerdy. And lazy too, judging from the large stack of papers I had yet to recycle.

(Photo courtesy of www.puma08.com)

Picture this

We're going to do this or this in Mexico. Oh, yes.

(play the videos. you'll be glad you did.)

You know who you are

To Saint Paul Saints fans: Energy Park Drive is a road. That people drive on. To get places. Quickly. It may seem like a parking lot, but I assure you it is not. If you are not moving forward, you should not be in the driving lane. Period. This is your official warning. The next time one of you slows to a stop to give adequate consideration to "Charity Park - $6" versus "Cheapest Saints Parking!!! - $5" I swear I will lay on that horn so hard you won't know what hit you.

To the creepy young guys in the hot tub at the Little Canada Bally's Total Fitness: You are not cool. No, I'm serious, you're not cool at all. Just because the hot tub has floor to ceiling windows overlooking the lobby does not mean you should sit there and ogle the women entering the club in their skin-tight workout gear. The old dudes get a pass because they have no chance with these women--all they have left is the ogling. But you, Mr. Twenty- or Thirty-Something Moderately Fit Guy With Questionable Judgment, you still have a semblance of a chance to get laid by one of these glistening beauties. Don't blow it with the ogling.

Feeling old

My baby brother was "promoted" to high school today. Here is how he looked on the first day of first grade. Needless to say, he doesn't look like this anymore. But he is a wealth of information about cell phone options and plans, if you are in the market.

What are you telling me?

Yesterday I was dashing through Rainbow Foods for milk and hamburger buns when the end cap of the chip aisle caught my eye. (Not the end cap that's actually outside the aisle, but the one right near the end of the aisle where they rotate in and out things that are somewhat related to the contents of the aisle). Instead of the usual dips, candies, or similarly complementary items, the end cap featured...control top panty hose.

Also, a mini-rant: I made the mistake of going to trivia at Brit's Pub tonight. It was completely packed to the point of insanity, we couldn't understand a word spoken by the Brit with the crappy sound system, and then it took me 40 MINUTES to get home because of the f'ing Twinkies traffic--causing me to miss Top Chef. I think that's it for me and trivia.

Emotional eater

One of the great loves of my life is...Crispix. Yes, the cereal. I have a really pathetic addiction to that crispy rice on the one side and crunchy corn on the other. I usually eat a bowl of cereal each night before bed, and 94% of the time it is Crispix. Often I enjoy the first bowl so much that I chase it with another.

Anne likes Crispix too (the normal healthy amount), but didn't want to eat it when we lived together lest she be the one to finish the box--and cause anger or sadness. I bought so many boxes at SuperTarget last week that the checkout clerk commented loudly on how much I must love the stuff. Last night I had the bowl of Crispix all poured before I realized I was out of milk. I actually said, out loud, Oh, how awful! in a really whiny voice and then proceeded to consume the bowl without milk.