Latte Lectures - Corrections and Retractions

God Needs You To Send Me Money!

willowanne@gmail.com (Auntie Willow) — Fri, 18 May 2007 10:33:28 -0700

Well Dearies, I'm sorry.
Auntie has a giant project (Librarians didn't have projects) that is going to be taking up massive amounts of my free time for the next two months. It's kind of funny, if I work insane amounts in the next two months then the last year will have been a smashing success. If not, then, well, it was just a smashing success, but not as smashing as it would be if the success were smashinger due to workaholic exhaustion.
See Dears? The grown up world isn't THAT terribly complicated.
So, I'm afraid that I will be forced to post just once a week. I'm thinking Friday Mornings, so that the Friday magic will imbue the post with some extra-specialness, the kind of magic that will make your cereal sweeter and your cartoons brighter on Saturday morning!
But then again, I don't know that this Saturday will be that for you. You see, something very bad happened. Your Uncle Jerry is dead. That's Jerry Falwell. Your Other very spiritual Uncle Jerry, Jerry Garcia, passed away several years ago (and he was so healthy! None of us saw THAT one coming).
But that's not the worst part. See, the worst part is that I'm basically to blame for Uncle Jerry (Falwell) passing on.
It's kind of a long story, but we have a little time, and I missed you so much! So I'll take a minute out to tell you about it.
See, God needs cash. Apparently lots of it. Because every time I turn on my TV, some man in a polyester suit with more hair-products than I have is asking me to give some money because God needs it. I'm not sure what he's doing with all this cash, but I can imagine that running the Universe is quite expensive, and the "Suggested Donation $5" box at the entrance to Heaven hasn't been quite pulling in enough of late. Probably because God loves poor people so much, and Uncle George decided to make a lot more of them here to make God smile (or is that smirk? I don't know).
But the long and the short of it is that God needs cash. Desperately.
Well, apparently a couple of years ago, he hit upon a grand idea: Kill Oral Roberts.
Now be nice. See, God knew how much we loved Oral, so he knew that we would pony up the 8 million dollars (American mind you, not Canadian) to keep Oral with us. And contrary to popular belief, the fund to raise 16 million to get God to take Oral Roberts wasnt successful, 'cause God didn't start it.
So anyway, the Big G (only friends get to call him that, though) got Oral to raise 9.1 million in 3 months back in 1987. But gosh, that was 20 years ago (that means I would have been 3, Dears). Given inflation, and how much it costs to fill the tank on the ole' GodMobile (a Cadillac Escalade upholstered in the fur of Baby Harp Seals, doncha'know) well, let's just say the Big Guys running a little short on Funds.
So, he figures "Hey, lightning always strikes twice, right? I'll just do the same thing again."
Which brings us to Jerry Falwell. You must understand, Dear Ones, that God is VERY SERIOUS about this money thing. I mean, DEADLY Serious.
I didn't realize how serious when he first told me to start hitting you guys up for cash. As a matter of fact, I used a response that was not a very polite one. And it included a bad word, which apparently is one that the Bible told me not to use (I guess. I mean, that's what he told me when he expressed his displeasure). Anyway, After he said not to talk to him like that, and I was sweeping the last of the locusts off my apartment balcony, I heard the horrible news: Jerry Falwell had died!
Now people have mixed feelings about this poor man's passing. Some people are really sad, some people are really indifferent, and some people are really stocking up on Gatorade so that they can make "wee-wee" on his grave.
I have a different take on it: I get the message, big guy.
See, the Big G knew that after telling me to raise money, a little thing like a rain of frogs wouldn't be enough to make me change my mind when I told him to "buzz off". But by taking one so young and pure as Mr. Falwell, well, like I said, "point taken".
A few people have asked me as I embarked on this mission "Auntie, why didn't God just ask Uncle Jerry to raise the money". That's a good question, although asking such questions of the almighty is a great way to ensure that your buns will roast in H-E-Double-Toothpicks. But the answer is twofold: One, the Guy upstairs moves in mysterious ways; and TWO, Falwell lacked the serious street cred in the rap community that your Dear Auntie has.
So, here we are. The boils on my behind are pretty much gone, and I'm asking you kids to tell your parents to send me a miserable pittance. I can't ask for a paltry 8 million like Uncle Oral did, because of inflation, you know. So, through a combination of crappy merchandise sales and direct donations, we just need to have Auntie's bank account (you'll have one of your own, someday) bumped up to around 12.8 million by October, or else I'll be saying "Hi" to Uncle Jerry. But we only have to raise the difference between my current balance and 12.8 million. Let's see, 12.8 minus fifty dollars means.We're real close. Just get that cash!

Big Moves!

willowanne@gmail.com (Auntie Willow) — Wed, 26 Jul 2006 16:49:13 -0700

Well Dearies, Auntie Willow can now share what has been distracting her over the last two months.
I got a new job.
48 Resumes, 3 headhunters, 5 interviews, and over 1600 miles later and I am sitting in a new city, typing on the new laptop, about to get a delicious everything bagel brought to me by wonderfully nice, if red-state persecuted bohemians.
I dont know that I ever actually SAID what city that I lived in, but lets just say that Im leaving Bill Clintons Hometown to travel to the state that gave birth to Al Gore: and Bill Frist!
This large metropolitan area on a very famous river is wonderfully diverse, and probably the closest thing to New Orleans that we have left.
Im out of the Librarian gig, but I still have my American Library Association card, and of course my ruler.
The long and the short of it is that Im now earning more money than a Librarian ever thought existed. And Im surrounded by computer geeks. Normally, that would be cause for alarm, but in my case, it is more like My People, I found you! Like the end of Jonathon Livingston Seagull when he finds the seagulls just like him. Or at least I think thats how it ends: I hesitate to tell you this, but I never actually read the book! I know that its only about 30 pages or something, but I was curled up at the time with a copy of Peter Nortons Guide to the IBM PC and John Stuart Mills On Education. Yes, I have some wild tales about my childhood!
Now, Im driving around this wonderful new city trying to find a place to live. Of course, Ive already moved here. Im staying with a college friend who is in Russia to meet his fiancé.
Wait, that doesnt sound right.
Hes engaged to a friend of ours from college. Shes FROM Texas, she just happens to BE in Russia! So of course its not quite what it sounds.
In the meantime, Im applying a formula that I have come up with to try to determine what a good neighborhood is. Its not officially endorsed by the statistical eggheads at Quinnipiac College, or by the Macroeconomist at the Keynes College of Economics, but its pretty effective nonetheless.
Basically, you take the number of Pawn Shops and Check Cashing places in an area, and divide by the number of Ethnic restaurants and Vintage clothing stores. Please note that Italian and Mexican restaurants do NOT count as ethnic eateries. Chain restaurants like Applebees and Olive Garden count as half a pawn shop (Auntie doesnt like formulaic Italian!), and of course a certain large retailer that sounds like All Nart immediately disqualifies ANY neighborhood. Doncha just know that Auntie is allergic to polyester!
So Im driving around, trying to find someplace fun, and OF COURSE you can come stay with me!
Now all I have to do is find the Brazilian Cabana Boys in this new town!

Frankenputer Lives

willowanne@gmail.com (Auntie Willow) — Wed, 24 May 2006 18:49:08 -0700

Well Dearies,
That is if anybody is still there.
What a fortnight.
Actually a little longer.
So sorry.
You see, there was smoke.
No, backup.
There was a computer. Computers have smoke in them that makes them work.
This is known, I'm a computer librarian.
You know they have smoke in them that makes them work because, when you see the smoke leave, then the computer stops working.
How could it work? The smoke escaped!
Well, the smoke escaped.
From the black computer.
My computer. My beloved computer. What with the sudden 28 percent increase in the price of gas, and a sudden new spurt of well, work at work, and the speeding ticket (I was on the way to the LIBRARY! Honest! Someone needed Literacy, Quick!)
Well,
It has been bad. But it always is whenever I'm away from my Dear Ones.
Did anything happen while I was away?
Did you miss me?
You know I missed each and every one of you!
XXOO

Auntie Willow

Poor Uncle Donnie!

willowanne@gmail.com (Auntie Willow) — Sat, 15 Apr 2006 10:53:47 -0700

Well Dear Ones, Auntie has been trying to regain her sanity from the constant assault on reality by the Bush Administration.
I read Maureen Dowd's excellent "The Rummy Mutiny" this morning. I can't link to it because it is in the new "New York Times Select" pay portion of their website. They do this so that their excellent liberal columnists like Dowd and Krugman don't get to have a voice in the dialogue. Meanwhile, thanks to David Brooks' talking [and inflated] head status, his message of conservative Know-Nothingness seems to get out just fine. And don't get your Auntie started on the Times Select fiasco. I've only had 3 Lattes this morning, so I'm still a little grumpy. Let's just say, don't go search Technorati for brave bloggers who are still cutting and pasting Dowd's columns on the Internets.
But I digress. Basically, this morning Donald Rumsfeld, the man People Magazine voted as one of the "Sexiest Men Alive" in 2002 appears to be in trouble. I guess now is a good time for him to show that sexy, vulnerable side. Oh Rummy! Do you long for an evening with Auntie Willow as much as she longs for an evening of "Corrective Discipline"? I promise that being spanked with a ruler doesn't violate Alberto Gonzales' definition of torture!
Sorry! Once again, the lack of caffeine is making me drift.
I'm just trying to reconcile all of Rumsfeld's statements that they listen to the Generals on the ground about troops with the statements by all the Generals on the Ground that Rumsfeld is a bullying autocrat with delusions of omnipotence. Really, how did such a man fall in with Our Glorious Leader Mr. Bush who abhors these traits?
Oh, Dearies, I'm sorry. I almost fell for the vicious propaganda. We all know that Uncle Donnie knows best. These are probably just traitorous villains making accusations about things that they know nothing about. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the lot of them weren't part of some kind of plan all along! Like "Sleeper Agents" in the old spy movies! All they did was enlist in the military about 40 years ago, then have exemplary careers defending America for all that time, while trying to clean up from one of the Worst Blunders in US Military History (The pacification of Serbia, of course. If Clinton did it, then it must have been wrong!).
You know, now that I think of it, do we actually have any proof that they WERE in the Military? I mean, on the one hand, you have thousands of documents, pictures, witnesses, and accomplishments, but on the other hand, NOBODY (that's anybody), not Bush, not Cheney, not Uncle Donnie, Tom Delay, or even Saxby Chambliss (that fine patriot from Georgia) saw them in Vietnam! I dare you to come back with "That's because they weren't there"! That's exactly MY POINT. We don't KNOW that these so-called Generals were there! And even if they were, are their years of wallowing in the jungle anywhere near as important as Securing the Bars of Mobile, Alabama, from VC infiltration? Of course not. Just another case of armchair Generals second-guessing one of the sexiest men alive!
Oh, and while we're on the subject of Uncle Donnie's unbridled masculine allure, let me just take a second to send him words of support in his never ending quest to get sissy-boys and butch babes OUT of our Military! I can see how a woman who "does things" with other women (ask your parents. If not your parents, ask Ms. Lynda, your sister's softball coach) would make a Manly Man's abdomen feel funny. I mean queasy. So that's why Uncle Donnie HAD to kick that disgusting woman out of the Air Force. A lot of naysayers would probably argue that kicking a decorated, respected Combat Flight Nurse out of the military at a time when not only are we not meeting our recruiting goals, but we're desperately short of nurses is idiotic. But Uncle Donnie is just trying to keep the military morally pure. After all, if he allowed this woman who kept her long-time monogamous relationship a secret to stay in, then the troops would feel like it was only because we were desperate! And if you didn't open an investigation into the sex life of a nurse who received multiple commendations for saving lives by giving emergency care to our troops who had just been blown up, then the troops might think it was because we expected a lot of them to get blown up!
Doing this around the same time that a Pentagon Report comes out saying that you PERSONALLY ordered a "hijacker" to be forced to stand naked, wearing women's underwear, while a woman interrogator accused him of being homosexual might strike some of you as dangerously hypocritical. I just say that you are being Gloomy Geese! For all Uncle Donnie knew, the man WAS a homosexual! After all, he was wearing Women's Underwear! Yes he was stripped and beaten and forced to wear it, but he was WEARING it!
Well, to all you so-called generals, I say "Stop Picking on Donald". To all you sissy-pants that object to being beating and sexually degrading prisoners, I say "Stop hating America." To all you people that think ejecting gay career minded volunteers who save dozens (if not hundreds of lives) in the middle of a minor insurgency by foreign terrorists is stupid I say "Go play with the Lesbian Cheerleaders!"

Shout Out to the CIA

willowanne@gmail.com (Auntie Willow) — Fri, 27 Jan 2006 17:46:01 -0700

Well Dear Ones,
I must issue a Correction about our Kuwait post.
KWTIA left me a comment stating that Kuwait recently gave the vote to women, and now allows them to hold high office!
I wanted to apologize to Kuwait for the oversight.
You see, as a Computer/Reference Librarian, the first thing I did was look up Kuwait on a reputable website.
But which website? Fox News has apparently taken down their section on Kuwaiti Governance, and E-Online had a problem retrieving my query (all I got were articles about Kevin Federline's new rap album! I can't wait!).
What is a demure, attractive Librarian to do? I went to the source: The CIA.
The CIA actually has quite a good reputation for information (it's there, if you want to know the truth). The truth is, if you aren't trying to fake information or overthrow a democratically elected government in South America, then the CIA can give you quite a bit of information. Just go to their factbook: http://www.cia.gov/cia/publications/factbook. The only problem is that they have apparently been busy.
Since most of the professionals have been busy resigning, and the ideologues are ignoring everything that doesn't have to do with making up reasons to invade Syria (except for those tasked with making up reasons to invade Iran), they apparently haven't been updating their fact book. Actually, they haven't even updated the new rulers, or the Women's Suffrage, or where to get the best Mai-Tai in Kuwait City. I can only assume that since it is in such a tranquil part of the world that they figured no one would notice.
So my apologies. In the middle of everything else going on there, that is good news!
Tomorrow we're going to have fun with Hamas! I can't wait!

Time Loss and Random Holiday Notes

willowanne@gmail.com (Auntie Willow) — Tue, 10 Jan 2006 19:37:30 -0700

As I start waking up from my holiday stupor, I look around and see some dear friends that I didn't get a chance to say hello to during the holidays.
I wonder if perhaps I wasn't a little more depressed than I thought (does that even make sense?).
I thought things were going well, and with a few minor bumps, I guess they were.
Except. Except that I lost about 3 weeks. I've learned that happens to me when I'm depressed. Time just sort of seems to jump. No, it's not blackouts, I remember what and where I was. It's not sci-fi, I muddled through every one of those over-achieving days of psychological torment that Americans call the Holiday Season. I even smiled and had relatively great times, sort of.
But still, there is that missing time. As if every smile I flashed took 15 minutes of prep-work to pull off successfully. But I did pull it off successfully. At least I think that I did.
Sometimes I envy our friends north of the border. Being Canadian definitely has it's perks, I mean Canadian Bacon is WAY better than American Cheese (unless you're making a grilled cheese sandwich).
Still, being the Godless Socialists that they are, I guess they don't have to worry about emotional hi-jinks every December. Oh sure, sometimes they might raise their voices when all hopped up on their Non-Alcoholic Beer. And insults to family members must be screamed in both English AND French. Also, since they lack the protection of a quality group like the National Rifle Association, then they don't get to shoot each other. Pretty much my understanding of (what we Americans like to call) Christmas in Canada is just a bunch of cheery people at a non-denominational holiday party pointedly NOT saying "Excuse Me" until an O'Doul's (non-alcoholic) bottle is dropped and the Police (we call them pigs or fuzz here, but in Canada they have other quaint names like "Mounties" or "Officer") come by and make everybody take a non-violent conflict resolution class.
No, dear ones, I'll stop horrifying you with tales of how rotten things would be if we lived in a polite society with nationalized healthcare. Fortunately, most of us don't have to live in the hell on earth of having a decent economy or people going around being nice to each other.
Instead, we get the joy of holidays in the good ole' US of A, where we have relative strangers pummeling each other over video games outside of a Wal-Mart in Florida. And you know that they still have some left because they made sure that the employees don't have enough food stamps on hand to buy one for themselves.
And your Dear Auntie was in the thick of the American Holiday Spirit. Armed with a winning smile and an industrial can of Pepper Spray (please don't tell my Parole Officer), I was able to grab the gifts that I wanted for my young gentlemen. Everyone over the age of 10 was just on their own, as befits their lives in the World's Largest Social Darwinian Laboratory. Which is nice, because the only people over the age of ten (two of them) that I bought a present for were underwhelmed. Perhaps it is just growing up in my family, but Alcohol was always considered the gift of Holiday Cheer (I can't say Christmas after Bill O'Reilly pulled his crap). I also considered it just the perfect amount of cheer to make people smile, but not enough to instigate spousal abuse. Not to worry, neither of my recipients had spousals to abuse. How could I have foreseen that they would have cut out the middle man and started abusing somebody else's spouse?
And then, there was Houseguest grumbling because people got New Year's Day off on Monday, which was technically January 2nd. Now, I love Houseguest (not biblically, mind you), but the poor boy seemed unable to wrap his mind around the fact that if New Year's Day falls on a Sunday, and you work in an office, then you get Monday off. Otherwise, it is like the terrorists have won. I accused him of being unpatriotic, but the poor dear took it into his little head to debate ME about patriotism. He is so naïve. He doesn't seem to realize that I always win those arguments with a simple two-step logic test.
Step One, quote from the Battle of Bunker Hill. "Don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes!".
Step Two, land a kick in an area guaranteed to make the male of the species show you the whites of their eyes.
Step Three (optional), finish with the aerosol form of God's Gift to women like me, the cayenne pepper. Spray liberally (of course, everything I do is liberally!). Voila (yes, damn you O'Reilly, that is FRENCH!), argument settled.
As I walked away from the prostrate, whimpering form of our Houseguest, I started contemplating the New Year. On January 2nd!
P.S. I do want to say that I realize that sometimes Canadians wander by here. I just want you to know that I will marry you for a green card. I'll leave your green card on the table, you leave mine by your telephone in Canada. Please leave me a jacket, I'll leave you a pistol and an NRA Sticker (everything that you need for a successful life in the US). I should warn you, however, that for the next three years, I'd DEFINITELY get the better end of the bargain. After that, Emperor George the First will probably annex Canada. But in the meantime you get three years feeling the weirdness of the US, and I could get some long delayed dental work done. Please send marriage proposals to AuntieWillow@InfiniteLattes.com. Serious enquiries (see, I'm already trying to learn to spell Canadian!) only.

The Winner of the "Special Day" Contest

willowanne@gmail.com (Auntie Willow) — Wed, 30 Nov 2005 18:42:40 -0700

No, they don't win a special day!
But they do win something for guessing!
You might remember that I posted A Special Day for Jamie A a little while ago. And I promised a prize to the person who could e-mail me with the correct answer about what was so special about that day.
Of course, only two people, Jaimie H (not even Jamie A, who I went through a whole day for) and Gary guessed.
Continue reading "The Winner of the "Special Day" Contest"

Just a quick note about revisionist history

willowanne@gmail.com (Auntie Willow) — Tue, 29 Nov 2005 19:51:41 -0700

Actually, this isn't a correction or a retraction....for me.
Instead this is a "quickie" for those good folks at Fox News.
Hmmm. Here is a clip of Chris Wallace trying to convince Senator Carl Levin that what Bush said isn't what Bush said, right after a clip of Bush saying it!
Absurd!
After a long day of library activities, and trying to think up the next chore for the Infinite Lattes Graphics Department, and not sure what to write, lo and behold! An entire lesson on lying, in one little 4 minute video clip.
Here it is, courtesy of Crooks and Liars. Enjoy!

Thanksgiving

willowanne@gmail.com (Auntie Willow) — Sat, 26 Nov 2005 09:15:14 -0700

Well, Dearies,
I didn't get the chance to post anything over the last two days. It was Thanksgiving, don't ya know. Well, it was Thanksgiving for United States readers, for our international friends it was, ummm, Thursday?
The truth of the matter is that Auntie Willow has had a rather long year, with (in no particular order) a bankruptcy, a divorce (ok, we did it backwards, we should have had the divorce first, but it still worked out), and two parental deaths (a mother and a step-mother).
But to tell you the truth, I think I have held up remarkably well (or at least my looks have).
And then, Thursday (Thanksgiving to my US readers). It was cooking all morning, with laughter and fun and friends. Thanks to David, Duchess, Cory, Galen, Jim, Jeff, John, Jaimie, Joey, Gary, and most especially Suzy for putting up with a grumpy Auntie (I'm not very good until after my first pot of Lattes, Dears). Your Auntie can actually cook, although she doesn't let many people know that, and I must say, the Game Hens and Stuffing turned out exquisitely. The yams and potatoes were done by Suzy, who graciously hosted the entire affair, and if there is someone who didn't gain at least one pound of solid fat from that feast, then it is their own fault!
You cannot have a feast like that (even if the prep does start at some beastly early time, like the crack of 11:00 ante-meridian) without having your spirits lifted.
And to top it all off, like the proverbial whipped cream on the squash/gourd pie (well, ok, I guess I'll bow to the American Gourd Growers Association and call it by their "marketspeak" word, Pumpkin) was an extended visit by Auntie's two favorite Gentlemen Callers. Not only that, but because their mother had to go to a family dinner and shopping for them, I spent both days in the company of these two delightful young men.
Yes, if you had seen me the last two days, you might have been astonished: Wash and Wear clothes, sneakers (for sneaking), and hair matted with leaves. I flung these two delightful guests around the yard, and in return they helped to rid both my house and Suzy's house of a) Dinosaurs b) trolls c) zombies d) evil dragons (good dragons were fed Oreo Cookies, at least that's what I was told as the scamps made off with half a pound of Oreos!) and e) evil wizards (good wizards were also given Oreos, which explains what happened to the other half-pound of cookies).
I couldn't blog, because I didn't want them to see me typing such filthy words as "Republican", "DeLay", and "Cheney" (pardon my French).
I don't mind them reading about cheerleaders gone bad, because I want them to grow up and know exactly what kind of people to hang out with (basically, bad cheerleaders).
I don't want you Dearies to think that your Auntie doesn't love you, however. I want you all to know that I give thanks for you every day.
So in that spirit, the Latte Lectures will be open on Sunday and Monday for very special posts.
I'd also like to remind you that no one has sent me a guess about what was special about that special day for Jamie A. Jaimie H (not Jamie A) posted a guess, and I have just about finished her special prize. It wasn't the correct guess, so let me up the ante. Anyone submitting a valid guess will receive a hand crafted prize from Auntie Willow, and I am not kidding. No, I didn't knit you a pony or anything like that, but it is something that I made. You can e-mail me your guess at auntiewillow@infinitelattes.com and I will really contact you and get a mailing address where I will send you a small gift, handmade by moi. Just think of it as me giving thanks for one more special person in my life (duh, that's you!).
Because to make it through a year like mine, it is vitally important to remember all of the positive things that are going on. That includes you!
XXOO
Auntie Willow

Description of a Very Special Day: For Jamie A

willowanne@gmail.com (Auntie Willow) — Sun, 13 Nov 2005 21:55:29 -0700

Auntie has had the flu for the past few days.
I tried blogging but the coughing made my keyboard just icky.
I did get a chance to talk with a dear friend, though. Jamie A is one of the many wonderful women named Jamie that Auntie knows. Something about that name usually imbues the bearer with wonderful taste in Librarian friends.
However, she did make a special request; one that I wasn't sure was possible.
After much reflection (and also quite a bit of Vicks highest proof cough syrup), I did recall the events of a very special day that would satisfy her request. It was a day that I went without something.
Auntie has that funny, floaty feeling that comes with over the counter health care (the only kind Americans can really afford, anymore). So I have decided to try something a little different.
The first person that can send me an e-mail (auntiewillow@infinitelattes.com)telling me what is missing from this day will receive a modest but handcrafted prize.
I am serious about this. It is not very large and I'm legally required to say that it has no intrinsic value in a legal or tax sense, but it has been made by me personally. The electric thrill of holding something that I touched has been known to cause at least one certain Audio/Visual Librarian to nearly faint. Or possibly that was hypoglycemia.
Either way, to find out more simply read on.

Continue reading "Description of a Very Special Day: For Jamie A"

Corrections and Retractions, Part 1

willowanne@gmail.com (Auntie Willow) — Sat, 29 Oct 2005 11:12:01 -0700

It is time for Corrections and Retractions time here at the Latte Lectures.
I apologize for not getting to any of this sooner, but things have been a bit hectic of late.

First off I?d like to apologize for yesterday?s post about the now defunct feud with my neighbors. They did not contribute to me losing a kidney, your Auntie still has all 3 kidneys that god gave her.
The real source of the beef was over the last ?122 of a kind? figurine on QVC. We were watching together, but as the last one went on sale, Auntie Willow used her phone to call the neighbor?s phone, tying up her line, while I dialed in on my cell phone. I know it was a dirty trick, but this was a COLLECTIBLE NASCAR figurine! (Bryan Street Buddha, this link is for you!). As the Bush Administration knows, the means don?t matter, only the ends.
The real reconciliation came 3 weeks later when the figurine arrived, mangled, in the mail. How did I know that her friend works for the delivery service? Still, like the line says in Washington, ?No Harm, No Foul?. Now that neither of us had the adorable and highly valuable treasure, our friendship was free to resume where it left off. I go back to being a chaste and pure priestess of knowledge; she goes back to being a Dale Earnhardt hating bitch.

I was not, in fact, the Camerawoman for the infamous John Wayne and Truman Capote sex tape.
The tape has never been discovered, and your Auntie is mum on whether she has seen it, participated in it, did the lighting direction for it, or even knows whether or not it exists. That?s all I can say.

U2 is NOT raising money for Pennsylvania Senator Rick Santorum..
I know rumors got started about this, and Santorum did shower some of his contributors with tickets to one of their shows, but the band didn?t officially endorse him.
I suspect that the reason is that Pennsylvania Senator Rick Santorum couldn?t get Bono to record a variation of ?In the Name of Love? called ?In the Name of Ultra-Conservative Religious and Political Orthodoxy?. Bono apparently objected because of the difficult meter and rhyme of the proposed song.

Finally, there is no truth to the rumor that Halle Berry is bearing Trent Lott?s love child. Although Trent has no moral objections since they are different sexes (Trent is a Man and Halle is a Minority), ultimately he couldn?t stand the fact that she does, in fact, have better hair than he does.