Thursday, July 31, 2008

Me and ER, again!

Another cliff note post.
  • In ER Sunday night with these exact same symptoms.
  • Told them I was NOT having a heart attach so don't even go there.
  • Diagnosed myself as having gallstones and did tell them that.
  • (I know doctors hate that)
  • Had gall bladder taken out Tuesday 4 AM
  • Yes, I typed that right,4 AM
  • Had an awesome surgeon that loved having the OR to himself in the wee hours.
  • I just got home today.

I though gallstones was an "old person's" disease. I'm finding out it's not.
I am going to make sure I don't get a desire to eat dinners at 4:30 consisting of creamed corn, mashed potatoes and Salisbury steak though.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

I left my heallllll-th ....

... in San Francisco. (sing it)

Is this a cold? Allergies? BlogHer withdrawal?

I have all the nasty ass symptoms. Sneezing, coughing, watery eyes, congestion, snotty nose and it's 82 degrees out!

Save this type of illness for winter please.

At least then I could blame it on cold damp weather.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

That took balls ...

... or was it guts?

What's the difference?

"That took Guts"
"That took Balls"


Arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being met by your wife with a broom and having the guts to ask, "Are you still cleaning or are you flying somewhere?"


Coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of perfume, beer, and with lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the azz and having the balls to say "You're next."

Either way dude, you're spent!

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

BlogHer SF 2008,the Cliff Notes

Whew, what a trip. BlogHer can't really be described, you just have to experience it.

I met so many wonderful women ...and men bloggers too. Yes, I went to the BlogHim session hosted by Karl. Average Jane and I decided to represent.

I was looking forward to meeting some of the wonderful women from the blogs I faithfully read Amie, Steph, Kristin, Susan, etc., etc.,etc. and was glad to have met many many more. I can't even begin. I have a huge stack of cards to many blogs that I plan on checking out.

Personally? Every day was full, meeting new people. Every night was a party, seriously!

I was at Guy Kawasaki's wonderful house party. And no, I'm not sure how I ended up on the shuttle to his house. Someone came up to me and said I was going, and it was going to be fun. And it was. What a nice guy person that Guy is.

I met Jenny and Jennie and oh boy! Our night out at the Starlight Room, on the 21st floor was hot and fun. Jenny, you could have been a Solid Gold Dancer! Amazing, that girl never stops!

The last night "Dooce" was the keynote speaker. True to her dog Chuck's talent, Heather agreed to pose for a photo balancing something on her head. (my sunglasses) Thanks again Heather for helping me win a bet. Yes, she truly is a soft spoken, nice person. Jon is kinda hot too!

I got home Monday and later that evening, with dark circles and fried brains, I met Ree and Sunshine for dinner. Two perfect women to close out my first BlogHer experience with.

Thanks again to the wonderful guest posters that took my place with their greatest hits while I was gone:

Ree from My Life As a Hotfessional
Delmer from What's a Delmer Look Like
Joan from Southern Suburbia
Michael from Captain Obvious

Delmer? I miss all the fun we had in Pete's Court! How did we end up there anyway?

Monday, July 21, 2008

BlogHer Home Grown

Plane arrived in the 313 at 5am

Showered and in bed at 8am

Woke up at 2pm

Showered and out the door at 4pm

Meeting Sunshine and Ree at 6pm for dinner and booze merriment!

I am so glad my car and body can operate on auto pilot.

I'm so glad I have tons of concealer.

Pics and post on BlogHer tomorrow!

(Pssssssst ..... it was awesome!)

Sunday, July 20, 2008

The Captain Has Arrived

Howdy Marie's Michael here. Captain Obvious is my un-assuming alter-ego and this blog is where I chronicle the "duh" moments that make up my life. I seem to have a lot of those.

Captain Obvious started while I was living overseas as a way to keep in touch with my family and share my experiences with them. Since returning home last summer, life has been a lot less exciting, so I now tend to post a lot of meaningless BS.

Unlike the other blog-sitters, I have the distinction of being part of Nancy's family - yup, I'm her 'favorite' nephew. That also means I have a lot of juicy dirt on her. Not to worry, I can be bribed :)

Like the others, I also debated which post I should re-run while Nancy is off whooping it up in San Francisco. After looking back at my posts, I've come to the conclusion that I have a warped sense of humor and this really comes to light in the following. I’ll warn you that this has a bit of an icky factor, but the thought of it still cracks me up. And after Delmer’s re-run, I’ve decided that life really isn’t too short to blog about poop.


Don't get me started on men's room etiquette. I am consistently amazed at the highly educated executives I work with that I'll catch exploding into the toilet one minute that just walk out of the bathroom without stopping at the sink to wash their hands afterwards. DISGUSTING!!!!!

My favorite "forgot to wash" story is about Ben, an extremely unattractive wannabe drag queen that I worked with at the pharmacy while I was in college. Ben went to Barbazon School of Modeling at night and happily strutted his sausage-like body around in a G-string while hosting hot tub parties for really ugly people on the nights he was free. "How do I know this?" you may be asking. Because he proudly showed off pictures taken with his chic Kodak disc camera after each and every occasion. Lucky me.

Anyways, Barbazon took Ben's money for modeling classes for quite some time, but somewhere along the line Ben wised up and realized that there wasn't a market for 5'4", 250 pound models with frizzy, fake afro hair. So he quit and became a make-up artist instead.

(Mind you, Virginia at the pharmacy had a wedding to go to and Ben offered to do her make up for free in an effort to get client referrals. I've never seen your average housewife turned into a $5 hooker quite like that before…it would have made a great Jenny Jones episode.)

Soon afterward, Ben left the small world of our retail pharmacy for bigger and better things: Make up consulting for Lord and Taylor at fabulous Lakeside Mall. Mind you, Jay's mom (whose name is Paula) also works at the very same Lord and Taylor and would entertain Jay and me with these completely off the wall stories about the new make up artist at work. After a few of these stories and in what could be described as a “Captain Obvious” moment, I realized the lunatic Paula was talking about was the one and only Ben.

The kicker of these stories was when a male co-worker of Paula’s walked into the restroom to do his business. Some serious grunting and groaning was taking place in the stall followed by some fierce explosions. A few minutes later, out walks Ben, acting as if everything is hunky-dory and completely bypasses the whole hand washing thing. If that’s not disgusting enough, remember what Ben does for a living…yep, a few minutes later, he had his hands ALL OVER some poor, unsuspecting woman’s face. I think I’m gonna throw up.

So, Nancy, to answer your questions, yes, I wash my hands after every time, but I am not consistent about washing before. If I’ve sneezed or have a cold, yes, but if I’m lounging around my house, I can’t say I always do. When I flush in public, I never touch the handle, which usually results in a one-footed balancing act so I can use my shoe. I always use a paper towel to open the door too. Oh, I once saw on Oprah that most people don’t wash long enough for the soap to effectively kill germs. You need to scrub for at least 10 seconds, or roughly the amount of time it takes to sing “Happy Birthday.” So if you’re ever waiting behind me for the sink and are thinking “WTF is taking so long,” it’s because I haven’t finished singing “Happy Birthday” to Oprah yet.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Filling In For a Super Blogger

Hi I'm Joan from Southern Suburbia filling in for Nancy while she's living it up at BlogHer, mingling with all those celebrity bloggers. I'm so jealous and can't wait to hear the juicy details. Speaking of details, I don't think Nancy explained those pictures of handcuffs! She and I have been communicating probably 1-1/2 years. She regularly comments on my blog with sharp wit and good advice. I love Marie Millard and all the variety of her subject matter. When asking us to guest write, Nancy suggested we republish a post from our blog. It just so happens Southern Suburbia is 2 years old today. I decided to find an early post that didn't get much attention. I wasn't a regular reader of blogs when I started mine. It took about 2 months before I began having followers and I connected with others. Here's one I found actually mentioning the BlogHer website originally posted August 7, 2006 called "Generic and Unlucky":

Odds & Ends ... I got back from the beach Sunday. Needless to say, I was getting a little tired of that drive. It's good to be home. Work is a little crazy this week.
It seems my account at Blogher has a mind of its own. On a whim I put a picture of a girl scuba diving as my profile picture. I quickly deleted it thinking it was quite obnoxious. I attempted to put a real picture of me in its place but the scuba diving picture kept appearing each time I tried to upload its replacement. The situation continues. I emailed Blogher and deleted the scuba diving picture off my computer. I tried another picture. No luck. I'm either stuck scuba diving or as a generic image. It's as if Blogher is wanting me to be someone more exciting or resisting a real photo of me! Things happen which confirm times have changed and I look at life as a parent now. Last night we were eating dinner out. A young girl (around 18) sat down at the table next to us. I'll say it out right. She had big boobs. Her tight t-shirt read "Some Girls Are Born Lucky". I am pretty sure my husband and son agreed.

Note: She probably had handcuffs, too. Fast forward to the present and not much has changed. I still feel kinda generic and unlucky at least in the boob department. Nancy - I was honored you asked me to fill in and I look forward to your return!

Friday, July 18, 2008

Delmer Drones On

Hello everybody. As you know Nancy has been kind enough to ask a couple of her fellow bloggers to fill in for her while she's at BlogHer. I'm Delmer from What's a Delmer Look Like. That would be me in the photo; while I'm not always in a body of water I am often wet, what with living in hot and humid Ohio and all. Oh, and while I wish I could claim otherwise, that's my toe sticking up out of the water.

I met Nancy in August of 1979 when we were both in the Peace Corps teaching English as a second language in Persia. As many of the people we taught — men, women and children — had hopes of emigrating to the US, Nancy thought it would be a benefit to go beyond just teaching ESL and to give them skills which would help them better fit in to American society. She decided to give the women hair and nail tips and I worked on teaching the men things they'd need to know to Americanize their home improvement skills.

After several months of working together, and with some vacation coming up, Nancy suggested that a group of us take a road trip in an old VW Bus she had. And so it was that on November 1, 1979  six of us shot off into the night to take a tour of the middle east. As everybody reading this knows, except the Americans as we're shit when it comes to our own history, the US Embassy was stormed on November 4, the American occupants were taken hostage, and Ted Kopel became a fixture of nighttime TV. It would seem Nancy had saved us (despite the fact we were nowhere near the embassy, but work with me, it's my story) using her womans' intuitiveness.

Nancy doesn't like to talk about it, mostly due to modesty, but her many acts of bravery over the next several weeks, as she spirited the six of us to safety, eventually earned her the the Presidential Medal of Valor and a year's supply of Rice-a-Roni (the San Francisco Treat).

Back to the guest-blogging gig.

Nancy is making it easy on the guest bloggers as she's said we could re-post something from our own blogs. I honestly think I sometimes post rather clever things however, last night as I looked for one or two, I came up short. Sure, I stumbled across a couple of clever lines (and a boatload of typos — and, honest to God I proofread before and after posting) but they were buried way deep down inside a post somewhere. Is it any wonder? Look at this entry, I'm just saying "hello" and I've already droned on to the point of boring even me.

(Oh, and I would be a horrible person to omit this, I sometimes post bits about my three adorable boys).

Anyway, I'm reposting something I wrote back toward the beginning of the year.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Many Accidents Happen in the Home 

I had something else I wanted to blog about today but I've just had an experience I've never had — and I'm 47 — that I knew you'd want to know about.

Just a few minutes ago I almost fell off the toilet.

I know what you're thinking, that didn't really happy, he's just saying it for shock effect. 

Let me assure you it did almost happen and nobody was more shocked than I. I even made that wah-uh! noise you make when you think something unbelievably bad, yet not life threatening, is about to happen to you. I've never been more happy to have had a bathroom to myself than I was at that moment. Can you imagine being outside a stall and hearing wah-uh! come from within it?

I've been making use of toilets in reading mode for what, 46 years? The only other time I've ever come close to having an incident like this was when I was hospitalized with a high fever back around '83 or '84. I'd gotten out of bed in the night to make a number two and had gone into the spacious hospital-room toilet to do my business. I lifted my gown, and as I went to lower myself I got faint; as I looked back to aim, my vision went and took my sense of balance with it. In an instant I developed a serious concern that I was going to wedge myself between the commode and wall and, to top it off, I'd be wedged there having to poop. So I gave the nurse-call lanyard a pull.

I don't know if the nurses can tell which alarm in a room has been triggered, but my nurse seemed to arrive with incredible speed, almost as if she knew this call was about something more than me needing a glass of water. 

She also arrived with incredible petiteness and this lends itself to a rather nice bit of imagery. Back in '83-'84 I was about the same size I am now (yes, I know, bravo for me); that is to say, just something over 6'4" tall and about somewhere between 230 and 240 pounds, depending on the day of the week and my hydration level (other big guys will appreciate the 10-pound range as being an entirely-possible scenario). 

My night nurse, as I recall, was about 5' 2" and maybe 100 pounds.

I don't remember if I'd actually started the ass-wedging-between-the-wall-and-commode process or not but I do remember my nurse having me by the hands and helping to pull me forward. As she pulled I farted a little bit.

No I didn't.

Another thing I remember about the night nurse was that she was really cute. I've got to guess that being wedged in a hospital bathroom with my junk all hanging out and dehydrated didn't make the best impression (I've noticed she hasn't called once in all the years that have gone by).

Anyway, in the time that has passed I've had many very successful toilet experiences and have never since almost suffered injury or humiliation. I can only assume that all these accident-free years have filled me with a false sense of security and that it was only a matter of time before I made a mistake that almost dropped me to the tile.

How did it happen?

I'll tell you tomorrow.

* * * * * * * * * *

Thank you for reading. I'll be here all day. Be sure to tip your bartenders and wait staff. (And if the above story didn't put you off, the same thing happened again about a month later.)



Thursday, July 17, 2008

The Glamour of Travel - Nancy's in San Fran

Hey Y'all! I'm Ree. While Nancy is over on the west coast enjoying BlogHer and meeting lots and lots of wonderful bloggers (she better not steal any of my girlfriends!), I get to blogsit.

Nancy's a cool chick. I'm going to meet her in person next week and I can't wait. In the meantime, she has given us permission to re-post an archived post of our own - and I thought, "Wow, excellent! My poor overworked (and underpaid, of course) brain doesn't have to think of something new and exciting and impressive to post! I can make all of Nancy's readers love me with some previous wit that I've written."

Then I went looking through my archives. Sigh. Somehow I remember being a lot funnier when I wrote them. Snort.

Anyway, a short synopsis of me, so you have some background here. I'm a female information technology executive who works from home full time. I travel from Ann Arbor to Chicago at least monthly on business. My site, "My Life as a Hotfessional" covers my life as a career woman, a wife, mother and stepmother. This post was previously published in October, 2007. I hope you enjoy a little peek into a typically glamorous travel-type of day.

Letters to those in my life on Tuesday morning

To the driver who took me to the airport this morning:
Dear Lurch's Younger Brother: I understand that it was raining pretty hard this morning, I really do. But doing 48 mph on eastbound I-94, even at 5:45 a.m., probably isn't the safest thing to do. The freakin' tanker trucks and 18-wheelers were passing us on the right dude.

Love, the Hotfessional

To the idiot passenger who screamed at the American Airlines gate agents at 6 a.m.:
Dear AirTran Passenger: Seriously you nutbag. Why would you possibly assume that the AA women boarding the plane going to Chicago at 7 a.m. would know where in the effin' hell the AirTran gate agent was? Different airline? Duh. Oh, and the signs that say "Be at your gate and ready to board at least 10 minutes before your scheduled flight"? Usually mean just that. So, my guess is that the gate attendant was probably on the jet bridge making sure that everyone was boarded and that the plane was going to take off on time. Which meant she wasn't behind her stand. Oh and let me guess - you're also the jerk that screams at everyone when your plane is late and you're on time. Asshat.

Love, the Hotfessional

To my darling husband:
Dear Mr. Hot: I'm so sorry that you're not feeling well. I know that head cold and hacking cough are combining to make you one miserable man. I know that you couldn't sleep last night because I couldn't sleep last night. But darling? When I roll over for the 20th time between 10:30 p.m. and 2:30 a.m. - wide awake - and then at 3:00 a.m. I notice you're awake? The "I haven't slept a wink" statement is NOT an invitation to feel me up. Not when I have to wake up at 4. I know you'll be a darling and get up with me and fix me coffee - and believe me, I do appreciate it, but you? Can go back to sleep after Shortman leaves for school, whereas I? will be on a plane, then in a train, then walking 10 blocks to the office. I will get to sleep sometime around 10:30 pm tonight after one of those hella shitty days. Please know that I cherish you with all my heart and soul.

Love, the Hotfessional

To the stick-thin woman on the Blue Line from O'Hare that got off at Clark & Lake:
Dear Model-Wannabe in the Size 0 pants: Love the hair. Love the sunken cheekbones and the pointy stiletto heels. I even love the fact that you're reading one of my favorite books, "Into the Wild" by Jon Krakauer. But honey? You have your cardigan on inside out. Maybe it's a new look? Funky-Giselle-style? I don't know, but I'm just saying? It kinda ruins the whole ensemble.

Love, the Hotfessional

To the Chicago Sewage and Street Sanitation Truck at the corner of Washington and Halstead:
Dear Stupid-Idiot: See all the cabs and buses and other somewhat heavier and somewhat deadly vehicles that are filling the intersection? See the thick white lines with the crossy-ones inside of them? That's where we walk, you dumb-fuck. Seriously. And since you're also blocking our view of the walk/no walk sign? We have to squeeze between those two honkin' busses and hope to gawd that one of those taxis doesn't decide to follow your lead and scream around that Lexus honking his horn. I know you didn't truly mean to put our lives in danger. Or that there may be an ulterior motive to your actions. Those brushes under the truck look mighty handy for sweeping the bodies off the street. Next time? Stop! before! the! White! Line! Kthxbai.

Love, the Hotfessional

To the orange and white tabby that I rescued from certain death and doom last winter:
Dear Frac-the-loudmouth: I know you like to find new toys to play with. You're so much more inventive than your sister, who is perfectly content to bat around the little plastic balls that I bought for you both when I brought you home. She'll even make due with a bit of aluminum foil rolled up (and we both know how she loves [loves] if a fly makes its way into the house. That can keep her entertained for hours). You, though, my boy - sweet and cute and cuddly though you are - had me really wondering about the pieces of black rubbery plastic that kept showing up throughout the house. A new mystery!

Until this morning. When I put on my sexy black boots to wear this week in Chicago. And wondered why the heel on the left one felt funny. I was standing in the security line waiting for them to come through the x-ray machine. And then I noticed. The black rubbery plastic stuff? It's the bottom of my freakin' heel. You little shit. You chewed the bottom off my heel. Now I'm standing like I'm bowlegged. Just wait until I get home. Mama Cat is not happy.

Love, the Hotfessional

---- But Mahm - Tasteee ----

Thanks, Nancy, for letting me take over your space for a bit. I hope you're having a marvelous time, and that your flights are on time, your drivers courteous and safe, that your fellow passengers are all marvels of politeness and that your heels are level.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Play it Again Sam

I'll be in San Fransisco Thursday through Sunday. I'm returning on the red-eye Sunday night, arriving in Detroit at 5:10 A phucking M. I anticipate 4 days of enough fun to compensate for the crash and burn I will have on Monday.

Oh wait ... Monday, I'm meeting Ree and Sunshine for the first time, in Lansing MI for dinner. It's only an hour and 45 minute drive from my house. Girls? I may pull a dine and dash, unless I get a nap during the day. Then again, I could just drink Red Bull martinis.

So while I'm away, four of my favorite "reads" have agreed to guest post. I asked them to pilfer through their underwear drawer archives and repost one of their own favorites.

Be sure to check back over the next few days and see their fave's they liked enough to "play it again".

Thursday ..... Ree from My Life As a Hotfessional
Friday.......... Delmer from What's a Delmer Look Like
Saturday ..... Joan from Southern Suburbia
Sunday ....... Michael from Captain Obvious

Thank you guys!

*The real line,that has been forever misquoted from Casablanca is:
" Play it Sam, play as time goes by."

Monday, July 14, 2008


Project Black No.5

See More Participants Here

Sunday, July 13, 2008

pUMp iT uP

Project Black No.4

I pilfered through the host of this project's archives and see they run about 10 days.

Since I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane Thursday, to SF for BlogHer, I'm not going to finish the 10 day project.

I'll post one more (since I already took it) tomorrow and make it to the halfway point.

Ahem, since the most comments on these shots were about my shoes ... my spiky heeled shoes ... be sure to come back for the *gasp* final photo tomorrow.

Tuesday and Wednesday, my posts will be the usual TBS, and for the days I'm at Bloger, I've got surprise, awesome, guest bloggers lined up.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Morning Rendezvous

Project Black No.3

Every morning, it's me and Keurig

You're wondering how long this project lasts?
Me too, I'm just following the leader.

Friday, July 11, 2008


Project Black No.2

My son Bryan's summer wheels.

Project Black host Anna Carson
Go there to check out other participants.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Project BLACK, No.1

Yes, this is the right side of my closet.
Johnny & I, we like our black.

Hosted by Anna Carson

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Working it Wednesday

I woke up this morning and actually did some Yoga stretches and put on my Tai Chi CD and started the day with a relaxing work out.

After two days of total brain mush, I am looking forward to some good times with some good friends. Friends that I have gotten close to, yet never physically met.

Next week, I am going to meet and mingle. I am going to drink and dance. I will listen and learn. Bust most of all I will be glad to have my butt in San Francisco at the BlogHer Conference.

I wonder if the Dooce Almighty will pose with me for a picture? Heather? I promise not to try balancing things on your head for a picture.

So, I leave next Thursday from Detroit verrrrrry early, and with the 3 hour time difference, I will get into San Fran verrrrry early. Anyone else getting there before noon?

I'll have to call and see when check in time is at the hotel. Hopefully, if the room is ready, I will be able to crash and nap before the first night of partying socializing begins.

Yes, I am getting excited!

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Explosion Between My Two Ears

Due to a financial analyst camping out in my office and at our business for two days, I have had no brain power to post anything let alone read any of my favorite blogs. After drinking martini's and putting my brains back into my head tonight, I will resume posting my daily trivial BS.

Thank you for the e-mails asking "Where the flunk are you?"

Friday, July 4, 2008

Ev'ry heart beats true

You're a grand old flag,
You're a high flying flag
And forever in peace may you wave.
You're the emblem of
The land I love.
The home of the free and the brave.
Ev'ry heart beats true
'neath the Red, White and Blue,
Where there's never a boast or brag.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
Keep your eye on the grand old flag.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Top 10 Things That ...

... wait, look at the photos and see if you can figure what this top 10 list is about.
(photos googled and flickr)

Small Toy
French Fries
Beans and Peas

Give up?
. .

You can read about it here:

Top 10 Things Kids Stick Up Their Nose

When I was a kid I got a barrette stuck up my nose.
What about you?

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Wednesday, Weird Memory

After reading Mrs. G's post today, recounting her and a girlfriend's naive acceptance of a ride from a stranger, the goose bumps came back to a memory of mine.

I used to hitchhike. I remember once hitchhiking to Stoney Creek Park with my friend Barb. Not a care in the world about "wacko's" back in the 70's. (Duh! I lived in Oakland county, home to the famous unsolved murders by the Oakland Child Killer )

One particular time, I had spent the night at her house, we got up and headed out to a full day at Stoney. At the end of our day, she got a ride home with a friend that lived in her neighborhood. Chit, I had moved to back Royal Oak by then and it was about 20 miles away.

So there I am, probably stoned, sunburned, wearing my bathing suit asking around if anyone was going to Royal Oak. There were three guys that said they were. One said he lived at 12 mile and Campbell and in my pot induced state, I was like "Wow, cool, that's exactly where I live." And I hopped in.

It was a powder blue VW. (what's with the VW hitchhiking stories? Mrs. G and some of her commenter's were in VW's too) Me, three guys, just about sunset. What the frap was I thinking? I know, I wasn't.

We headed out of the park and towards home. But then, they decided to take dirt roads "so we could smoke pot and not be seen." Mmmm, hum. Still, I'm all "OK, sounds like a good idea to me."

The bizarre thing, that's just what we did, rode around smoking pot, laughing, and having a good ole time. We stopped for some fast food and then they dropped me off at my house. The next day I though about what I did and kinda freaked. I drove past the street he said he lived on and sure enough I found the powder blue VW parked in front of a house. Never saw any of them again.

BUT ... this ... this really FREAKS.Me.Out.

I have said before, in 1973, I stuck my thumb out on I-75 and headed to Mexico with my boyfriend. We entered Mexico via Texas.

Summer of 1973

through rural TEXAS

Through the same area that THIS was going on.

Even though the movie is based on a true story, no chainsaws were involved. The killings and skinning of the bodies were true. Just the fact that I hitchhiked to Mexico and back kinda freaks me out when I over think it.
::: shudders :::

*** Side bar: Karin? Detroit? Bob (I think that was his name) and his VW? Gas Station? (we actually went in there!) Wig? Dead Hooker in the back lot? SCARY SHIT, eh? ***

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Madonna's Childhood Home Fire

Last Friday the house that Madonna grew up in caught on fire. It was reported in the Detroit Free Press as possible arson. The house is about 2 miles from where I work. I have seen the story on a lot of news websites now, but without any pictures.

So today, on my lunch hour, I drove over there. The local arson squad was there, so I just snapped a few on the run because they were outside.

Here they are ... the street and the house. No biggie, eh?
[click on photos to enlarge]