"Discover How A 5’11” Tall Hair Dresser Standing Waist-2-Face With Her Clients

...9 Hours Every Day Effortlessly
Dissolved Every Trace Of Her Vaginal Odor And She Did It Practically Overnight!
Exploding Her Confidence and Self Esteem Uncovering The True Love Of Her
Life."

Wha...what the...?! Jesus on a bicycle! I decided to put the google ads on my blog, just for fun and I thought it was kind of neat and I go to the blog to see how it looks and what do I see but an ad asking if you have fishy, vaginal odor? Is this a joke? I clicked on the ad and while you view the page there is this audio of a testimonial playing and these people are fucking serious! There's actually a section of the page that says,

"We sure hope your vaginal odor, or bacterial vaginosis (BV), is not as bad as Allison's and I really hope that you don't have to stand, like she does- with your crotch six inches from your customer's nose all day, but that is why we wanted to share her story. Allison was able to rid herself of vaginal odor, vaginitis, and other related symptoms. Of course we wanted to share her answer, her triumph over this vaginal infection, with you----"

Even better, during the testimonial, she's talking about how she was alembarrassedassed to have sex with her husband and how it controlled her life. HUH?!?! Someone married the fish? She had sex with this man and he still married her? Holy shit! How long were you gonna let that nasty shit rot up in there? What if she hadn't seen or heard about this medication? Was she just gonna let the shit rot off? That is so wrong and so foul.

When I grow up...

I wanna be Sister Bertrille!

During our little outing, Britain and I had to go see Aunt Tess and Tess and I noticed she sure looked an awful lot like the "Flying Nun". Maybe that's why she's so happy. I know how happy I get when I see Sally Field and I'm sure just the thought of her would make anyone smile, especially a child. Do you see the resemblance? Just a few more flying lessons and she'll be on her way.

Neurosis!

A sad day it is. I don't get to work with my mommy today, but with her co-worker, Cathleen. Plus, I'm so tired because I forced myself to stay up to watch CSI:Miami. There's always tomorrow to sleep in, which I'll probably need to do because I'll be going to Trivia Tuesday tonight at the Plymouth and then there will be more gripping television to watch when I get home. However, I do get to watch Miss Britain on Thursday, which is something to look forward to. She just loves her Aunt Shell.

Well, back to the task at hand...working without my mom. I thought it would be weird working with Cathleen, mom's co-worker, but it's actually not so bad. The worst part about today has been that the most neurotic candidate had a slight problem with her monitor screen; it was just slightly blurry right in the very center of the monitor. Now, I do understand that this may be annoying to some and not so annoying to others, and I do respect that. However, she had already complained about everything else you can possibly imagine since she set foot in the front door. Why is it that anyone who could tolerate the slight blur in the middle of the screen isn't going to be the candidate at that screen? It's only going to be the neurotic one. The main complaint was, "Is that air freshener odor going to be in the testing room, also? I suffer from migraines." Well, so do I and strong smells are a big trigger so I know exactly where you're coming from, but these are not strong smells. There are two candles lit in the whole office, emitting a just-so, pleasant aroma. Then, when we were fixing the problem with her monitor and we had to switch it with mine at the proctor station, she was out in the front office waiting for the switcheroo, she says, "Can I step outside; vanilla is my trigger smell?" What this means is that the easiest way for her to get a headache is to smell vanilla scents. Oh my. You do that...step outside. Well, after Cathleen and I went back out front after the switcheroo, we noticed that someone had blown the candle out. What the FUCK?!?!?!?!
Like I said, I actually do kind of understand each individual complaint she's had, however, to constantly complain from the door and continue non-stop is giving me a headache. The cure: buy a vanilla air freshener for her car and let it steep while she's taking the test. That's revenge for blowing out our candle, bitch!

Middle Finger Monday

I'm posting late today because I was blessed with many nightmares last night which has put me in a foul mood today. That's what I get for eating onions right before going to bed. Anyway, with much enthusiasm (can you feel it?) here goes:

*To the chick in front of me on the bayfront waiting to make a left turn at the green light: Perhaps if you could get off the cell phone, you would have noticed an hour ago that there was plenty of time to make a left turn and if you think I'm sitting through a green arrow while you are going all italian on the cell, I will definitely get out and pull a "Diana" on you. Don't think it wasn't about to happen, 'cus bitch, it was! I know we've all had our days on the cell in the car, but if I fuck up in the car while on the phone, I deserve the finger, too.

*To the assholes that decided to egg Pam's car during "Les-Fest": Fuck off! That is so lame and gradeschool, people! Anyone can drive by and throw an egg at a car; it doesn't take much balls to do it, but how about sticking around awhile and T.P.ing someone's house. I mean, c'mon, next time at least make it worth your while. Quit being such pussies. That's right, Tam, they were being pussies! Sorry you had to hear it.

*Whoever is responsible for the phone system at the doctor's office. It must be Verizon because we all know when Verizon's on the line, there's gonna be a problem. My kid is sick, damnit, can someone do something about the damn phones?!?! The best part is that the medical secretaries are feeling like they're on vacation because they don't have to answer the phone, except for the few people who have brains enough to call the upstairs office and get transferred to the downstair's office.

Well, people, not too exciting today, perhaps I shall post tomorrow about the fun of this weekend's Les-Fest. Next weekend, we'll be taking it on the road and enjoying the Winefest in North East. What the hell, I live in the middle of wine country, might as well make the best of it! Lata!

Goober Dippinfanny

Okay, folks, it's Saturday morning and cartoons are on and I feel like being cheesy, so bear with me. My friend Kimmie from Pittsburgh sent this to me and I felt like posting it...





Use the third letter of your first name to determine your new first name:
a = snickle
b = doombah
c = goober
d = cheesey
e = crusty
f = greasy
g = dumbo
h = farcus
i = dorky
j = doofus
k = funky
l = boobie
m = sleezy
n = sloopy
o = fluffy
p = stinky
q = slimy
r = dorfus
s = snooty
t = tootsie
u = dipsy
v = sneezy
w = liver
x = skippy
y = dinky
z = zippy

Use the second letter of your middle name to determine the first half of your new last name
a = dippin
b = feather
c = giggle
d = burger
e = chicken
f = barffy
g = lizard
h = waffle
i = farkle
j = monkey
k = flippin
l = fricken
m = bubble
n = rhino
o = potty
p = hamster
q = buckle
r = gizzard
s = lickin
t = snickle
u = chuckle
v = pickle
w = hubble
x = dingle
y = gorilla
z = girdle

Use the third letter of your last name to determine the second half of your new last name:
a = butt
b = boob
c = face
d = nose
e = hump
f = breath
g = pants
h = shorts
i = lips
j = honker
k = head
l = tush
m = chunks
n = dunkin
o = brains
p = biscuits
q = toes
r = doodle
s = fanny
t = sniffer
u = sprinkles
v = frack
w = squirt
x = humperdinck
y = hiney
z = juice

Which one are you?

That damn speakerphone!

Oh. My. Heck. This is brother Steve. One of my 5 siblings. I don't talk to him much, but he does call my mother at work on occasion, lately with more frequency because it's his son's 1st birthday soon and she gets to help with the party...lucky her. Anywhoo...he calls this morning and we're right in the middle of admitting a few candidates for testing and she answers with the speakerphone and this is how it all played out:

"Pearson Professional Centers, this is Diana, how can I help you?"
"I have a question, you got a second?"
"Uhhh, not really, can I call you back?"
"It'll really only take a second."
"Okay, what do you need?"
"What does it mean when you go poop and there's blood in the toilet?"
"Go the the ER!", yelled the three RNs waiting to be admitted, in unison and without hesitation, long before my mother could come up with a response, witty or otherwise.
Needless to say, he didn't call back after the ER visit; she had to call him to find out what happened. He told her they shoved their finger in his bunghole, said, "Yep, there's blood in them there hills" and sent him home. Wow, buddy, finger stuck in your ass twice today, huh?

How do you spell fun?

F-I-B-R-O-M-Y-A-L-G-I-A. Sometimes called fibrositis, a chronic disorder that causes pain and stiffness throughout the tissues that support and move the bones and joints. Pain and localized tender points occur in the muscles, particularly those that support the neck, spine, shoulders, and hips. The disorder includes widespread pain, fatigue, and sleep disturbances. Along with pain, many Fibromyalgia sufferers report headaches, poor sleep, fatigue, depression, and irregular bowel habits. Many others simply describe their symptoms as "flu-like."

What it means to me:

• "Brain Fog"---On Tuesday, after 10 minutes of seriously trying to concentrate to figure out why we were in Erie on Sunday (because I remembered stopping at Country Fair on the way back to North East), I finally asked Lori, who reminded me that we spent 3 1/2 hours at the Hamot ER.
• "Restless Leg Syndrome"---Even though I feel like I have been hit by the proverbial "Mac Truck", I still have to get up and clean the kitchen or whatever there is to do because I just can't stop moving. When I do stop, it feels like my muscles are "itchy" because they want me to get up and move.
• "I have a headache."---Anyone who has known me for 5 minutes knows that the previous would be put on my tombstone if I were being buried, which I'm not; cremation is for me. A day without a headache is like a sunny, not too cool, not too warm, perfect breeze kind of day.
• Pain---You want to go to bed so you can fall asleep and not feel the pain, but laying in bed is so painful, you want to sit in the chair, but it's too painful to sit after a few minutes that you wish you could just go lay in the bed. After playing ring-around-the-rosie, you just pass out wherever because you're too damn tired, only to feel like you're more awake than asleep during the night, but you're thankful when it's morning because you can get up and start all over again. Yeah!!!

That sums up the highlights...it's depressing to talk about, so I like to just live in denial. Life's more fun that way and, as we all know, I like to have fun.

So sorry

Sorry, people. I'm a little slow these days. They said "brain fog" can be bad with fibromyalgia and they weren't kidding. I had to edit the MFM post because I suddenly noticed that half of the post was missing. Not the first time it's taken me a few days to realize something that should be obvious. Perhaps it's not as great as the original, but I think I'm getting my point across. Thanks for showing up today.

A day at work...With my Mom

Ahhh...the joy of working with your Mom. This is not my first time, no siree, not a virgin to this one. I'm excited to go to work today, wondering what surprises are in store for me. My day starts off relatively normal. You know, get up, start the coffee, the whole bathroom scene and what not. I then gather some things I'll be needing for the day...iPod, cell phone, book, etc. Suddenly I'm well aware of how this day is gonna go as I find myself trying to plug the iPod headphones into the charger slot of the cell phone. Yep, tried that a few times while the wife is staring at me wondering if she'll be having to sign me up for SSI checks soon. Okey-doke, off I go.
I leave maybe 5 or 10 minutes early so I can drop off Tess's eBay purchase to her at her place of employment. She's not in yet, even though it's well past 7:30 am, (okay, 7:33am) so I just leave the box on her desk and head to work. On the way, we pass each other and with my window down, I'm waving my arm frantically out the window at her, but to no avail. Stone Cold Tess is looking nowhere but straight ahead, while others are looking at me wondering if I am currently receiving SSI checks.
Okay then, I get to work with plenty of time to indulge in the bagels Mommy brought to share. Mmmm...cream cheese, too! Ahem, excuse me, I have been informed it's Neufchatel Cheese, 1/3 less fat than cream cheese. Good deal then...bagel and coffee...I'm good to go.
8:15am---The candidates finally start to arrive (it's a testing center for RNs, LPNs, Radiologists, etc) and all is well until the second to last candidate comes in and I hear my mother going through the motions of the whole speech you have to give them when they arrive. The only two things you can take with you in the testing room is your ID and your locker key (if you need a locker) and I hear this lady start to groan and moan because she can't take her pen and paper and watch and whatever into the testing room. She just absolutely has to write down all of her labs when she gets in there so she'll know them. Honey...We have a little thing called "real life". When you get a job, are you going to carry your "labs" around with you every day? Besides, we have an erasable noteboard and marker at your station for you to use. Okay, maybe she will carry her labs with her at work...And I do understand test anxiety...I've seen some people just break down and cry or empty the contents of their stomach due to the stress, but she just rubbed me the wrong way from the door. Plus, at the risk of being judgmental (too late), she looks like she went back to school at the age of 60, and in lieu of getting a haircut, she has resorted to hot rollers and has a wild medusa-like pile on her head. I suppose it was just a little annoying to listen to an older lady whine like the younger girls. She's probably a very nice lady, probably loves her kids and grandkids and great grandkids. Okay, let it go, move on. Mom finally said to her, "Look, you need to get your ass in there, take the damn test and not worry how well you're gonna do on it." The lady then thanked her for calming her down. Diana's words of encouragement...works every time.
9am---Everyone has shown up and they are all checked in and I go check on Mom. (I'm in the back, she's in the front) I see after she ate her bagel or two, she decided to finish off the neufchatel cheese with a knife and take her mid-morning nap. I wipe the milky drool from her chin and the desk and gently wake her. After reminding her where she is and who I am, she's back on track again and goes back to the computer. I go grab a piece of fudge to finish my coffee with and go back to my station. She informed me that Tammy will be stopping by today and I get a little excited, but then I wonder if she's confused or if Tammy is really gonna visit. We shall see.
10am---By now, I've sent and received a few text messages from the wife. She informed me that she has gone to the grocery store, but forgot butter. But she's gonna look it up on the internet to see how to make it. Hmmm? Are you crazy? You're 43 and you don't know how to make butter?! What did your mother do with you while you were growing up? Put you on a shelf and dust you once a week. Damn! I always got stuck with butter-churning duty while growing up. Everyone else got to play with their friends and go fishing in the creek, but I was always stuck with barn chores and butter churning. I suppose I'm a much better person for it, though.
10:30am---I go out to see what the old lady is up to and I notice she's on a hunting web site. What the...? Are you kidding me?
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"It's huntingnet.com"
"And?"
"Your father was on there, he belongs to the site, and he saw a post from some service men in Iraq and they wanted people to send them old hunting magazines and turkey calls and stuff."
"Huh?"
"I looked it up to see what they wanted. Your father wants me to put an ad in the Erie-Times asking if people will donate some items and he can send them on. He also put up a request at work asking the guys if they have any they can donate."
"Ohhh...it all makes sense now." Guys in Iraq are gonna call turkeys and ducks and deer in the desert and they forgot their magazines and calls and would like some sent to them. Hey, I'm all in support of the troops out there, give 'em what they want, give 'em what they need. My parents on the other hand just get stranger by the minute. Is this a hint of what's to come for me?
11 am---Where is Tammy?
11:30am---My Mother informs me she would like me to make her lunch. What can I whip up with nothing but a toaster oven, mini fridge, plastic ware, and some foil baking dishes, not even a microwave? Ahhh...homemade chicken soup. She, of course, loved it. She decided that lunchtime conversation was going to be centered around her physical exam she had last week. One of the tests they ran that you want to come out negative, turned out positive. After we discussed a few possibilities and the fact that she had a follow-up appointment with a specialist, I informed her that it's one of the many joys of getting old. She then informed me it's Middle Finger Tuesday and flipped me the bird while continuing to enjoy her brothy brew.
12:00pm---Diana's back on the phone. Doesn't sound like a problem, huh? As some of you may know, Diana's FAVORITE toy is the speakerphone. The last time I worked with her, she had some friend/associate on the speakerphone and they were "catching up" and he started talking about some minor procedure he had or was getting ready to have done. She asks, in a concerned tone, if it was serious. He says, "Am I on speakerphone?" Atta boy, he's been on this ride before, obviously. After they hung up, I found out he had some anal polyps removed. Shoulda just kept him on speakerphone. More fun that way.
Yippee!!! The baby's here!!! Thank you, Tammy!!! Whoa!!! What the hell is going on here? Britain has Kleenex hanging out of each leg of her little one-piece suit. She just had four shots and the doctor's office charges for Band-Aids and all Tammy had was her co-pay and parking meter change. So, Kleenex it is. Poor baby. Tammy said that the nurse told her, "Band-Aids stick." No shit. She's still the most perfect Brittle ever.
What does Tam say after she walks in and hands the baby to her favorite Aunt Shell and asks Mom what the deal is with the speakerphone. All of us kids who've had to call her at work have gotten the same speakerphone treatment. Why does she make us suffer so?
Diana has started speakerphone-calling every one she can think of to tell them that her granddaughter is here to visit her. She is oogie-woogie-oogie talking to the kid, hoping that whoever is on the other end will hear the baby gurgle and they can shrill with excitement, too. First victim...Tess. Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
1:30pm---Finished feeding the baby and changing the present in her pants...only one candidate left...gonna gather my things so I can run like hell when the bell rings.
Diana says, "This cow needs to hurry up; I wanna go home and jump your father." Sadly, another day has come to an end.
See you tomorrow, Mom.
Hope the butter's done, honey...I'm coming home!
Bye, Britain, you can come back tomorrow to adore me some more if you like.

Middle Finger Monday

We're going to start a little tradition here, people. It's called, "Middle Finger Monday". I don't think it requires much explanation, so I'm just gonna get started on the list. Here goes:

* The dumbass brats at the Hamot ER waiting room on Sunday that decided to bang on just about everything in the kid's area after turning the magnetic table upside down, banging on that. To you, I offer the middle finger. Hey people, they weren't "little" kids...they were old enough to know better. And while I'm at it, a middle finger to the dumbass parent that left their kids alone in the ER waiting room, here's to you.

* The "Friendsheep Tribe" on BB6: Naggie, Ape, and Evilette. I have never seen a more grotesque example of judgemental people since the days of segregation. Get over yourselves, for cripes sake! Go Jedi Janey! By the way, get off the "Cappy" train already. He's GONE!!! Not dead, just evicted, like your asses are about to be. Watching BB6 is so hard this season. It's like watching a train wreck...you just can't stop, but at the same time you are overwhelmed by feelings of, I dunno, sadness, anger, just a mixture too hard to describe. Also, the biggest middle finger of all goes to Jen Vasquez (already evicted and quarantined) of the "Friendsheep Tribe". You are one of the saddest people around, bitch. You parents must be even sadder wondering how in the hell they created something so awful. I'm inundated with feelings of nausea when you are on the TV screen. You suck. Watching you constantly roll your eyes at people makes me wanna roll the eyes outta your head!

*"The Therapist" across the way. Get a life and quit staring at us already! Sadly, I didn't even know she WAS staring, but a few people kept mentioning it to me, like "why is she looking at us?"...uhh, she has no friends and no life, obviously. It's creepy to think she may have night-vision goggles, binoculars, or perhaps a webcam. I was thinking I should parade around in my front yard in a tankini. I think a 200 lb. woman in a tankini would scar the retinas of even the strongest ogler. For you, both middle fingers.

*The guy at Moonsense that made Tammy's Chai Tea. What the fuck, asshole. We didn't say you HAD to work there...you chose to work there, so how about a little cinnamon on the chai and a damn saucer already? Quit slacking on the customer service, man. Thank goodness our paninis were so damn good, we were wet with anticipation of eating them, although that may be because you had no hand in making them, 'eh? From now on, you ask my lil sissa if she wants some damn cinnamon and give her a saucer under her mug and whatever else she may need; that's what service is about, you anticipate the needs of the customer. For you, the finger! Hey, if you don't like your job, get a new one...Country Fair is always hiring.

"Les-Fest 2005"

Pam and Lori, a.k.a., "The Wife", a.k.a. "Halfpint"


Sandra and Andie


Josh, a.k.a. "Weasel"


Well, I'm finally getting around to posting about my Labor Day weekend. It was a blast, to say the least, but it certainly had its moments. Pam says, "Hey, why don't we all camp out at my place in Girard?" Okay, we were a little skeptical because money was tight this week, but what does it cost to camp? We pack up the tent, clothes, bedding, food to grill, alcohol,and head out Saturday afternoon. We sat there and B.S.'d for a while, drinking a little bit and getting to know a new face, Josh. I nicknamed him Weasel after 5 minutes of knowing him because he annoyed the living hell out of me. I know we all have our issues, but he was way over the top! Even after I let him know he was annoying, he just kept on annoying me. What the hell! Anyway...All of a sudden, there's this pickup driving by slowly with Ohio plates and they pull into the driveway next to where we are all sitting. The guy in the passenger seat announces that they work for a wholesale meat company or something like that and that if we buy the last case, they can go home to Ohio and enjoy their weekend. Dudes, this guy and chick were selling meat out of a freezer in the back of the pickup truck. Well, Andie & Sandra (who are a couple) decide to split the cost and the meat with Pam and they brought out all of the meat for everyone to inspect. We're talking burgers, filet mignon, steaks, ribeyes, blah, blah, blah. (I'm not up-to-date with my knowledge of cuts of meat) Pam says, "I've bought from this company before, it's great!" You know what, it was great. We ended up grilling some of it the next night of camping and it was damn good steak. Okay, you go brother. After the big meat purchase, we decide that it's gonna be forever before we get to eat because we don't have the salad, veggie salad, fruit salad and corn prepared. The grilling and bon-firing are all happening a few doors down at her friend's house. So, we pack up all of our necessities and head over where more meetings of people and drinking occur. It's almost dark and we're getting ready to prepare all of this food. (Mind you, 75% of the people are inebriated, if not more) It's all good though. Good times are waiting to be had. Finally, the eating happens and suddenly Sandra has had her fill. Apparently, she's been drinking since 10:30 that morning. Gawd! Andie helps her to their tent and comes back in time for us to begin the bonfire. It was so much fun. Everybody was so funny and relaxed and finally about 1:30 am, Halfpint and I decide we've had enough and head back to the tent, also.
We all get up the next day to the resident drama queen, Weasel, going on and on again about anything and everything. We decide that we're going out to eat breakfast, but he was never invited. See, the only reason he was there is because he lives at Pam's house with Pam's roommate, Jason. Well, Jason works 12-hour days and Weasel is home all day to annoy the shit out of us. Yippee!!! Now Pam has to explain to him that she has company over and she is going to take us to the diner and he should not assume that her friends are automatically his, etc. Then he goes on about how he's depressed and needs to be around people because when he's alone, he tends to do stupid things. Oh my fucking gawd! Pam and Jason work 12+ hours about 6 days a week and your ass is alone and today you're suicidal?!?! The answer to the question is...YES...We left his ass behind and tried like hell to avoid him all day. I think we all know the type and poor Pam was trying like hell not to clock this kid and kudos to her for keeping her cool, but he sure needs a good clock-cleaning. Anyway, Saturday night was just as much fun as Friday, if not more, because no one got too drunk and everyone pretty much hung out all night by the warm fire. It was just a really great weekend and I felt the need to share. Thanks for listening! Thanks Pam, Andie, Sandra, Tony, Doreen, Kenny and Karen and the Backstreet Boys (Tony & Doreen's boys) for a great time. Can't wait to do it again!

Dear Mr. Bush...

I got this from a friend of mine in Pittsburgh via email and wanted to post it because I can't stand George Bush, but I do like Michael Moore. Anyway, here goes:

Dear Mr. Bush:
Any idea where all our helicopters are? It's Day 5 of Hurricane Katrina and thousands remain stranded in New Orleans and need to be airlifted. Where on earth could you have misplaced all our military choppers? Do you need help finding them? I once lost my car in a Sears parking lot. Man, was that a drag. Also, any idea where all our national guard soldiers are? We couldreally use them right now for the type of thing they signed up to do like helping with national disasters. How come they weren't there to begin with? Last Thursday I was in south Florida and sat outside while the eye of Hurricane Katrina passed over my head. It was only a Category 1 thenbut it was pretty nasty. Eleven people died and, as of today, there were still homes without power. That night the weatherman said this storm was on its way to New Orleans. That was Thursday! Did anybody tell you? I know you didn't want to interrupt your vacation and I know how you don't like to get bad news. Plus, you had fundraisers to go to and mothers of dead soldiers to ignore and smear. You sure showed her! I especially like how, the day after the hurricane, instead of flying to Louisiana, you flew to San Diego to party with your business peeps.Don't let people criticize you for this -- after all, the hurricane was over and what the heck could you do, put your finger in the dike? And don't listen to those who, in the coming days, will reveal how you specifically reduced the Army Corps of Engineers' budget for NewOrleans this summer for the third year in a row. You just tell them that even if you hadn't cut the money to fix those levees, there weren't going to be any Army engineers to fix them anyway because you had a much more important construction job for them -- BUILDING DEMOCRACY IN IRAQ! On Day 3, when you finally left your vacation home, I have to say I was moved by how you had your Air Force One pilot descend from the clouds as you flew over New Orleans so you could catch a quick look of the disaster. Hey, I know you couldn't stop and grab a bullhorn and stand on some rubble and act like a commander in chief. Been there done that. There will be those who will try to politicize this tragedy and try to use it against you. Just have your people keep pointing that out. Respond to nothing. Even those pesky scientists who predicted this would happen because the water in the Gulf of Mexico is getting hotter and hotter making a storm like this inevitable. Ignore them and all their global warming Chicken Littles. There is nothing unusual about a hurricane that was so wide it would be like having one F-4 tornado that stretched from NewYork to Cleveland. No, Mr. Bush, you just stay the course. It's not your fault that 30percent of New Orleans lives in poverty or that tens of thousands had no transportation to get out of town. C'mon, they're black! I mean, it's not like this happened to Kennebunkport. Can you imagine leaving white people on their roofs for five days? Don't make me laugh! Race has nothing -- NOTHING -- to do with this! You hang in there, Mr. Bush. Just try to find a few of our Army helicopters and send them there. Pretend the people of New Orleans and the GulfCoast are near Tikrit. Yours, Michael Moore
MMFlint@aol.com www.MichaelMoore.com
P.S. That annoying mother, Cindy Sheehan, is no longer at your ranch. She and dozens of other relatives of the Iraqi War dead are now driving across the country, stopping in many cities along the way. Maybe you can catchup with them ( www.bringthemhomenowtour.org ) before they get to DC onSeptember 21st.

"Name that...chipmunk."

This is "Norm", "Chippy", "Rudy", whatever. The cat brought him home Friday night. Thanks, cat. His tail was half off, his eyes weren't even open yet and we were surprised as hell that he even lived through the night, let alone 7 days. Saturday evening we were sure he was a gonner. He was cold and hadn't eaten since before the cat brought him home. We warmed up some milk and egg and fed him with a glass eye dropper and have since been feeding him baby formula, a.k.a., "powdered gold". Needless to say, he has come a long way. He has energy, he chatters to you when you're done feeding him and keeps warm with a heating pad when he's sleeping. I'll be sure and keep you up-to-date with news and photos of how he's doing.