http://weblogs.newsday.com/sports/watchdog/blog/jessica-simpson-cheers-tony-romo-1.jpg
Dear Jessica,
Didn't you learn the first time about talking about your relationships? We are all completely thrilled for you that you have found the love of your life in Tony Romo and even that you feel the need to share it with People.com. However, don't you remember how this played out last time? You had several TV shows, a singing career, clothing/hair/edible body lotions lines then your divorce hit, and your relationship was more exposed more than Britney's and Paris' privates put together. Do you really want your name splashed across E! News or CNN's ticker if this ends badly?
Take a note from Ms. Beyonce. Stop talking about it. Or, if you do, choose your words and interviews wisely.
Now, is that tuna or chicken again?
Your former and could be again fan,
Allison M.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Breaking up is hard to do
How can we be lovers if we can't be friends? That's Mike Bolton is thinking right now and wishing he didn't write that song either. After a long ass engagement to Desperate Housewife, Nicollette Sheridan, he's back on the market and prowl without all the hair. (Michael grow back the hair. It was the best part of your videos.)
Since she's probably a cougar at heart, she realized she needed to spread her cougarness with all the young pups in Hollywood. Next on her list - Justin Timberlake, Jesse McCartney or the kid from Hairspray. Look for wild clothing, heavy make-out sessions and run ins with the paparazzi on Robertson Blvd.
Rock on, Nicollette. And now, a moment of silence for the next 3:52 as I sing loudly to my favorite Michael Bolton song ever.
Since she's probably a cougar at heart, she realized she needed to spread her cougarness with all the young pups in Hollywood. Next on her list - Justin Timberlake, Jesse McCartney or the kid from Hairspray. Look for wild clothing, heavy make-out sessions and run ins with the paparazzi on Robertson Blvd.
Rock on, Nicollette. And now, a moment of silence for the next 3:52 as I sing loudly to my favorite Michael Bolton song ever.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
meat market
http://www.boardofcadillac.com/douchebags.jpg
Since I was single this past weekend with the BF at a bachelor party, my friends and I rallied together for a late dinner, wine drinking and then dancing at Velvet Dog. It was beyond a blast of a time. I had such a great time with everyone. From 8:30 to 3 a.m. I was completely entertained by each of their hysterics, including the almost argument we had with a bitchy girl at D'vine and all of the creepy men on the Velvet Dog's rooftop. I know, I know, I know. I knew what I was getting myself into, but we haven't been up there in forever and we now have our fill for the summer.
It was packed with boys with button downs, gold chains, white tanks underneath, slicked back hair and even the super pimp himself in full attire. You know it's a good night when you run into Rod Stewart. What gave him that idea? (Note to self: Find the superpimp and interview him.)
Anyway, only me plus one more ended up heading to the rooftop with two old college guy friends who we thought would serve as bodyguards. We were so wrong - they ended up dominating the dance floor with their crazy moves and scamming on other girls.
Because I wasn't inhiberiated, I noticed the guys around the dance floor. Have you ever actually looked at the guys that swarm around when a group of girls are dancing? I'm going to think you haven't because you had one too many drinks. But, really, it's quite amazing. They sit, stare and point with their friends and then make the move only tools make - they come up from behind you, grab you by the waist and thrust into you. OK - no one likes that. You do realize that, right? This is not the Roxbury and you are not Chris Kattan.
The BF calls it "freaking" on girls. I guarantee he and his friends used to go to
W.6th, hit on girls and take them home by "freaking" on them. He even gets this stupid grin as if he's remembering his days in the basement of Blind Pig. Damn, I wish I could go back into time to see that. He claims he's too old for W.6th anymore. I'm not - best people watching EVER!
So, ladies or gents, what is your exit strategy when boys/girls try to "freak" on you?
Since I was single this past weekend with the BF at a bachelor party, my friends and I rallied together for a late dinner, wine drinking and then dancing at Velvet Dog. It was beyond a blast of a time. I had such a great time with everyone. From 8:30 to 3 a.m. I was completely entertained by each of their hysterics, including the almost argument we had with a bitchy girl at D'vine and all of the creepy men on the Velvet Dog's rooftop. I know, I know, I know. I knew what I was getting myself into, but we haven't been up there in forever and we now have our fill for the summer.
It was packed with boys with button downs, gold chains, white tanks underneath, slicked back hair and even the super pimp himself in full attire. You know it's a good night when you run into Rod Stewart. What gave him that idea? (Note to self: Find the superpimp and interview him.)
Anyway, only me plus one more ended up heading to the rooftop with two old college guy friends who we thought would serve as bodyguards. We were so wrong - they ended up dominating the dance floor with their crazy moves and scamming on other girls.
Because I wasn't inhiberiated, I noticed the guys around the dance floor. Have you ever actually looked at the guys that swarm around when a group of girls are dancing? I'm going to think you haven't because you had one too many drinks. But, really, it's quite amazing. They sit, stare and point with their friends and then make the move only tools make - they come up from behind you, grab you by the waist and thrust into you. OK - no one likes that. You do realize that, right? This is not the Roxbury and you are not Chris Kattan.
The BF calls it "freaking" on girls. I guarantee he and his friends used to go to
W.6th, hit on girls and take them home by "freaking" on them. He even gets this stupid grin as if he's remembering his days in the basement of Blind Pig. Damn, I wish I could go back into time to see that. He claims he's too old for W.6th anymore. I'm not - best people watching EVER!
So, ladies or gents, what is your exit strategy when boys/girls try to "freak" on you?
Monday, August 25, 2008
marathon runner
Yesterday, I decided to get in with the spirit of the Olympics and head for one long ass run/walk over to my friend's house. The BF had just returned from his 72-hour non-stop bachelor party in Chicago. Since he was going to occupy the living room for the next 12 hours and I was "moving too fast" around the place for him, I decided to run over to my friend's house. Truth be told, I'm really out of shape. I mean, it's bad. I'm 25-years-old and a 12-year-old could beat me in a mile. Hell, I bet I can't even run a 10-minute mile. (OK, it's not really that bad, but this last month has thrown my work outs for a loop. I was doing so good before!)
I leave with no cell phone (yes!) and start running to her house. I figured I wouldn't be back for awhile because it's about 3 miles to her place and the BF would be passed out, so no one would need to reach me. By the time I visited with her neighbors, drank a gallon of water and ran back, even though they insisted on driving me home.
(Editor's note: Hello! My whole point is to get back into tip-top shape.)
Anyway, it had been almost two hours since I left and I had no idea of time because I was in my own little world, listening and singing along to Rihanna. I walk up to our place, dripping in sweat because I thought I was Jackie Joyner Kersee and the BF is walking out of our place, looking around for something.
Me: Nearly out of breath, "Heeeyyyyy."
BF: "Where have you been?"
Me: "Um, being an Olympic athlete."
BF: "I called Michelle and she said she hasn't seen you. I was going to drive around and look for you."
Me: "What? Why would you do that? Where would you even start?"
BF: "I don't know, but you've been gone for two hours and scared the shit out of me."
Me: "Awww, you were going to search for me."
BF: "Yes. Who goes running that long?" Then he notices my condition, "Wow- you are a sweaty mess."
Who said getting in shape was pretty?
I leave with no cell phone (yes!) and start running to her house. I figured I wouldn't be back for awhile because it's about 3 miles to her place and the BF would be passed out, so no one would need to reach me. By the time I visited with her neighbors, drank a gallon of water and ran back, even though they insisted on driving me home.
(Editor's note: Hello! My whole point is to get back into tip-top shape.)
Anyway, it had been almost two hours since I left and I had no idea of time because I was in my own little world, listening and singing along to Rihanna. I walk up to our place, dripping in sweat because I thought I was Jackie Joyner Kersee and the BF is walking out of our place, looking around for something.
Me: Nearly out of breath, "Heeeyyyyy."
BF: "Where have you been?"
Me: "Um, being an Olympic athlete."
BF: "I called Michelle and she said she hasn't seen you. I was going to drive around and look for you."
Me: "What? Why would you do that? Where would you even start?"
BF: "I don't know, but you've been gone for two hours and scared the shit out of me."
Me: "Awww, you were going to search for me."
BF: "Yes. Who goes running that long?" Then he notices my condition, "Wow- you are a sweaty mess."
Who said getting in shape was pretty?
Friday, August 22, 2008
Friday Fodder
This is about the time where Jessica Simpson's stock starts dropping. Honey, we've all been burned. Granted, I don't think it included an entire VH1 episode, Rolling Stone article or CD courtesy our the ex-hubby, but we've all had our share of bad relationships and can empathesize with you.
I used to love her voice, her style and personality. I was rooting for you. However, when you make snarky comments on radio shows about another girl calling or texting, your stock takes a plunge in my mind. You are an artist, right? Take your anger out in your music. Write a song. You'll make more money that way... Hello.. doesn't anyone remember "Cry me a river" and what that did for JT's career?
And, don't deny it, you totally are that girl that looks through his call log.
I used to love her voice, her style and personality. I was rooting for you. However, when you make snarky comments on radio shows about another girl calling or texting, your stock takes a plunge in my mind. You are an artist, right? Take your anger out in your music. Write a song. You'll make more money that way... Hello.. doesn't anyone remember "Cry me a river" and what that did for JT's career?
And, don't deny it, you totally are that girl that looks through his call log.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Sleep lines
Dear sleep mask,
You help my nightly slumber. You block out the light because I'm too lazy to buy curtains to cover the mini blinds. And, because I can't decide if I just want to buy all new furniture and a new mattress or stay put with my curret stuff. Do you see my decorating dilemma? But can you please not leave marks on my face well into my day at work? Coworkers notice these things, point them out and laugh.
Thanks,
Allison M.
You help my nightly slumber. You block out the light because I'm too lazy to buy curtains to cover the mini blinds. And, because I can't decide if I just want to buy all new furniture and a new mattress or stay put with my curret stuff. Do you see my decorating dilemma? But can you please not leave marks on my face well into my day at work? Coworkers notice these things, point them out and laugh.
Thanks,
Allison M.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Love on TV
http://www.wkyc.com/graphics/talent/abbyham300x225.jpg
The BF has a major crush on Abby Ham. For those of you not in the Cleveland area, she co-anchors the morning news on channel 3. I can't recall when I first noticed his undying love for her. Seeing as we get ready in two separate bathrooms in the morning, I thought I'd hear him talking to someone but I wasn't quite sure. Then, last year, she was in Cleveland Magazine you would've thought he struck gold. He took it from my office and kept it on his desk for months. This is when I noticed his local celebrity crush.
Every morning, he talks to the TV. I'm not kidding. He has one-way convos with the TV every morning. It's hysterical. I should film a snippet and post it. Here's a little sampling of what I hear:
"Good moooooorrrning Abby." (Pretty much what he says every day.)
"Not a good look for you, Abby."
"Did you cut your hair Abby?"
"Allison, your hair kind of looks like Abby's."
"Ohhhh, Abby, that's not a good look for you."
"Oh, Abby, are tanning? You look tan."
"Abby, you look great today."
Abby, if you read this which you probably don't, my BF would love a 8x10 signed glossy of you for his office. And, it would be priceless to see how embarrassed (read absolutely excited) to receive it.
The BF has a major crush on Abby Ham. For those of you not in the Cleveland area, she co-anchors the morning news on channel 3. I can't recall when I first noticed his undying love for her. Seeing as we get ready in two separate bathrooms in the morning, I thought I'd hear him talking to someone but I wasn't quite sure. Then, last year, she was in Cleveland Magazine you would've thought he struck gold. He took it from my office and kept it on his desk for months. This is when I noticed his local celebrity crush.
Every morning, he talks to the TV. I'm not kidding. He has one-way convos with the TV every morning. It's hysterical. I should film a snippet and post it. Here's a little sampling of what I hear:
"Good moooooorrrning Abby." (Pretty much what he says every day.)
"Not a good look for you, Abby."
"Did you cut your hair Abby?"
"Allison, your hair kind of looks like Abby's."
"Ohhhh, Abby, that's not a good look for you."
"Oh, Abby, are tanning? You look tan."
"Abby, you look great today."
Abby, if you read this which you probably don't, my BF would love a 8x10 signed glossy of you for his office. And, it would be priceless to see how embarrassed (read absolutely excited) to receive it.
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