FTSF: Wondering About Wonder Woman?

pop culture geek

A couple of weeks ago, I started talking about Superman, his possible late night acts, and his super sperm.  

Actually, I did more than start talking.  I carried the conversation on for quite some time.  Many appreciated it.  Some did not.

I expected that.

I've never been one to shy away from a topic.  That's why, when I started thinking about Wonder Woman, I decided that she might well follow suit.  

In the comic book years, Wonder Woman was one of the hottest heroines gracing the pages of monthly publications.  Her battles with her golden lasso (which could make anyone her slave) and her invisible robot plane were epics.

But, they did start thoughts brewing that never entered my head as a child.  

Never would have guessed that, would you?

What would you do if all you had to do would be to lasso someone and get them to do your bidding?  Would you lasso:

1. a porn star and have passionate lovemaking episodes and instructional education sessions?
2. a political figure and have them use their leverage to vote the way you wanted in Congress?
3. a record company CEO and force them to produce some decent music for a change?
4. a banker and have them transfer funds from a major business into a cash deposit to your account?
5. a McDonald's cashier and try to teach them not only how to count change, but to have some manners?
6. a Walmart employee and see just how low the IQ really is?
7. a school bus driver and force them to make the kids walk faster than .000045 mph when loading and unloading?
8. a rap star and find out if they really talk that way, or if they're just ignorant?
9. a TV infomercial salesperson and force them to use whatever product they're pushing?
10. a Taco Bell supplier to see just how bad the quality of meat is used in their beef burritos and tacos?

And, when I started debating about why a person would ever want an invisible plane, it suddenly hit me that Wonder Woman came from the land of Amazons.

(No, not those folks working in distribution centers for $12 an hour gathering up your mass quantities of batteries for muscle relaxers and weight reduction devices, but real Amazons!)

Original TV Wonder Woman
Linda Carter
(Photo Public Domain)

Being from the land of only women, there would be no need for the mile high club membership.  Or, would there?  

And, going to the bathroom would definitely be something to remember.  Sitting there, People Magazine in hand, enjoying the warmth of a noonday sun, all the while searching for the invisible toilet paper in desperation.  And, since the plane and toilet would be invisible, what about the waste product?  If another plane came by later, would the radio waves be filled with reports of Wonder Woman being chased by a pile of ... well, you know.  No need to be any more graphic.  

"This is Flight 583, Dallas to Chicago, to the tower.  Hey, did you guys just see what I saw!  There was this great looking babe, flying through the air like she was sitting down, and about twenty feet behind her was this enormous pile of brown ... well brown matter chasing her!  It didn't seem to be gaining, but it was staying right on her ass!"

I guess she could use her bracelets to deflect it.  No, that's a visual I'm going to forget.

Okay, it's FTSF again.  Time to finish the statement provided by the hostesses:

This week's partial sentence (prompt) is:  "I tried to cook...."

I wonder if Wonder Woman cooked, or if she just ate out all the time.  I remember she sometimes went on dates with her military boyfriend, but I don't ever remember her eating anything.  Of course, if she never ate anything, that would take care of the bathroom problem on the invisible plane.  Nothing in ... Nothing out!

Anyway, let's get to finishing the sentence.  I'm afraid if I don't, I'll get kicked out of this blog hop.  

I really look nothing like this.

Or, would I be hopped out of the hop?  

If Wonder Woman saw me hopping, would she say, "Look at that guy hopping."  

Or, would she, being older now and probably needing glasses, say, "Yep, it's almost Easter.  There goes Peter Cottontail ... hopping down the bunny trail ... hippity hoppity Easter's on its way!"

I wonder if Wonder Woman eats Easter eggs?

Enough procrastinating.  Let's finish the sentence!

"I tried to cook from the time I left home and found that it wasn't too difficult!"

What?  Not too difficult!  What type of an ass is this guy?

Actually, it was a matter of survival.  I found out quickly that if the money wasn't there, you had to pay attention to what you were cooking or you were going to eat some really lousy food!  And, since I loved food, it only made sense to do my best to make it taste halfway decent!

Besides barbecuing, my first real attempt at cooking came when I left home and got my own apartment right after high school.  I still remember ... it was Lasagna Hamburger Helper.

Perhaps, having a mother that was a tremendous Italian cook helped me out somewhat.  I'd spent a lot of time with her in the kitchen while growing up.  I still remember eating breakfast while watching her cooking treats such a Veal or Eggplant Parmigiana, huge homemade meatballs and spaghetti sauce for the evening's dinner plate.  


There wasn't anything she couldn't cook.  I'm still hoping to get my hands on her cookbook one day, but for now, my father won't let it out of his possession.  

Anyway, the Lasagna Hamburger Helper came out well.  I ate half of it, and put the pan in the fridge with the rest for the next night.  When the time came, I added a little water, warmed it back up, and enjoyed.

At one time this was "Yum Yum."
My, how times change!

Cooking was never a problem.  It was doing the dishes that came difficult.  

I knew that the leftovers would come out of the pan a little easier if I soaked it.  So, I put some soap liquid in the sink half filled with water, and stuck the pan in.  

That was the plan for over two weeks.  It was then that I had added enough water and soap to have filled up the sink ... oh, and the pans from other meals were just added to the first.

I had good intentions.  I just hated the thought of doing dishes.

Now Marge was a Godsend.   Who was Marge?  Well, she was probably as close to a soul mate as I could've had.  She was absolutely gorgeous in all aspects and had a brain that would put most to shame.  (I guess opposites do attract, lol)  In high school, even though she was a couple of years younger than I, she stood out among those that didn't care about popularity as most did.  She was going to do "her" thing no matter. 

After breaking up with a girl I'd been engaged to marry, I'd decided to give her a call.  She told me later that she'd freaked when I called, as I had been one of the "popular crowd" in high school.  Funny, I'd never even looked at it that way.  I just thought it was the right thing to do to know and talk to everyone, regardless of cliques.

So, Marge decided that for our second date, she was going to fix me a home cooked meal ... at my apartment!  I picked her up, helped load up the bags of food she'd purchased, and drove to my place.  I must admit, there was several types of cooking I was envisioning for the evening's activities.

How did they ever get a picture of my sink in 1973?

Upon opening the door, Marge's face suddenly twisted up.  

"What's that smell?"

I responded with a simple, "What smell?"

She walked over to the sink, used a fork to stir things around, and asked me how long the dishes had been soaking there.

"Only a week or two" was my innocent response.

That was when Marge became the woman of my dreams.

Into the murky depths, she plunged her hand, pulled out the drain plug, and emptied the sink of the water I had shied away from.  She stacked all the dirty dishes on the counter, cleaned the sink with Ajax cleanser, and then proceeded to do my two weeks worth of dishes.

"OMG ... IT'S WONDER WOMAN!!!!!!"

So, her selection wasn't quite
as expected ... she was still hot!

Actually, she looked a lot like her in all regards.  I know it sounds really sexist, but she really looked hot doing those dishes.  

God, I'm starting to sound like Al Bundy!

So ... what did she cook for her home cooked meal?

Beef Stroganoff Hamburger Helper!

And, she actually cooked it too long as it was somewhat dry.  Oh well, she looked good doing it.

Just in case you're wondering, we didn't do anything that evening except for some heavy petting.  Even after inhaling some of the natural herb of the time, she didn't sway from her decision.  Nor, in the months to follow did we do anything besides more of the same.  

Marge was of the belief she was going to save herself for her husband.  Back in the early 70's, some maintained that belief.  Even amidst the era of "free love", there were those with some morals.  This was unfortunate for teenage boys, but accepted if you liked the girl enough.

A few years later, after I had served my country in the military, I returned to find Marge still waiting.  She had truly waited.  It was a tremendous homecoming.

I didn't even need a sink of dirty dishes!

Unfortunately, her and I were like train tracks ... we belonged together, loved being connected side by side, but the times never let us come together to become a "church" married couple.  There always seemed to be complications that kept us apart.  Finally, I took  a job in radio that was 600 miles away ... and she couldn't work things out to move with me.  We were over.

My current wife (and Wonder Woman) of 33 years knows all about her.  I've been honest with her as Marge will always hold a piece of my heart.  I haven't seen her in over 35 years, but I still remember her with the same love I felt all those years ago.

It took one hell of a woman to pull that drain plug the first night.  I hope her husband, whoever he may be, appreciates her the way she deserves.

I know I still do.

Gabriela Speaks: The Last Goodbye

I'm heartbroken!

(*You can start the video at the bottom 

so it plays while you read if you'd like)

This is the end,

Beautiful friend.

This is the end,

My only friend, the end.

Of elaborate plans, the end,

Of everything that stands, 

the end.

No safety or surprise, the end,

I'll never look into your eyes ... again.

In 1969, Jim Morrison of the Doors sang this tune during one of my early lives.  It was haunting then, and still leaves a defined impression of emptiness and sorrow.

It is exactly what 

I'm feeling inside.

Rich has pulled the plug.  He's beginning to sound like a television executive saying, "When the ratings are low, the showcase must go!"

(sob, sob)  The ratings were low, and so I must go.

No, he's not making me leave the family.  At least, not for the present.  I think he loves me ... but I'm too hurt to see it much right now.  In fact, while chasing my tail the other night, I thought, "If I could swallow this thing, I could eat myself and disappear!"

It didn't work.  I'm still here, suffering deep inside.  Damn!  There's times I really hate being a woman ... even if I am a cat!

I know I got carried away a little in the beginning and touched a sore spot in some of the mommies.  (I think it was the "P.O.P. thing,") I went over that line that Rich says is the difference between crudeness and good taste.  

How the hell was I to know where it was?  He never showed me the road map!

I'm so sad.
I'm so depressed.
My kids are gone.  My blog is gone.
Just let me lay on the cold tile floor and die!
At least until dinner time!

Rich says he's got something else planned for Monday mornings that will bring in more views and followers.  He also says that he might bring me back from time to time as a guest poster.  Rich says a lot of things.  I haven't seen an invitation as of yet for any further chances to talk to my lady friends!  What does that tell you?

Some of you have been so sweet.  And, some of you have even invited me to meet your kitties, or to come live with you.  Believe me, I've been considering the offers!  He's really ticked me off by cancelling my ladder to fame!

And, would you believe that not even me barging into the bathroom and badgering him 

every morning has changed his mind!

But, let me say this.  I know Rich really loves me deep down.  Seriously, even though he's being a pain in the butt about this whole thing, he cares about me.  He feeds me regularly, pets me whenever I wish, brushes my fur at least once a week, and talks to me like no one ever has before.  He even stops his typing at times to pet me when I climb up on the arm of the love seat and lie down.  I've never had anyone stop doing anything to give me love and attention before!

He's just really being an ass about this!

It's no good, Faletame!
I'm depressed ... it's a woman thing.
You just wouldn't understand.  

So, anyway, I'm being given a chance to tell each of you how much I've appreciated you coming to my Monday morning blog sessions.  I know each of you so well now, I almost feel like you'd run to the store and buy me some Little Friskies if I asked you!  I'm so touched.   Oh no, I'm almost starting to cry again!

To all my friends, I hope you'll pester Rich in the future so we can once again be together.  Remember, I'm going to miss all of you, but will forever hold each of you and your families in my heart  (which Rich says doesn't exist most of the time).  Oh oh, here come the tears.  I've got to go!

Luv Y'all! Take Care!

It hurts to set you free,

But you'll never follow me.

The end of laughter and soft lies,

The end of nights we tried to die.

This is the end.

  

Give this a listen for a real mood swing.

The Doors

"The End"

Guilty As Charged!

I've been a bad boy!

For the few of you that emailed me and asked if I was "okay" this week, I answer you now,  "Yes, I've been very busy, but I am doing fine."

In the kingdom of Blogdom, one might even say, "I've been a bad boy!"

Yes, I'm guilty!  I admit it!  I took a week off!  

I only assisted Gabriela last Sunday to get her Monday post out (which, by the way, will probably be her last), and I took a week to concentrate on business (real life stuff).  

I didn't write and I didn't read.  I'm a terrible person and will be damned forever because of this.

Actually, I can think of many more reasons why that might happen besides this one, but it sounds good here, "So what the hell?"

There are times in a person's life that they need to step back and observe.  Not just the world around them, but the internal and external world they're forcing themselves to reside within.  

You may ask, "OMG, is Rich starting to get into a deep conversation or just spouting superfluous crap?" 

I know what you'd expect from me.  But, what if I did get serious and philosophical?  Would it shock you?  

If it did occur, would all the bloggers in Blogdom find themselves in lost in a lost world without toilet tissue in time of need?   Or, would this just become another blog that is read by some, scanned by others, and ignored by many?

Probably just ignored by many.

Still, shouldn't we ask ourselves, "Is what I'm blogging relevant to anything, or is it just putting words down on the screen to fill an obligation to those that have chosen to follow?"  

Does it really matter?

However, if irrelevant, does the reader recognize the El Toro defecation it's meant to be, or, are they lingering on every world, analyzing and envisioning this creature of the absurd to be real?

I know ... you’re beginning to consider to scan by now.

Is this blog one of an imaginary intellectual being that has created an imaginary world through dictionary and Thesaurus search and selection?  

And, how many synonyms to "bullshit" actually do exist?

Why do we write?   Is entertainment, instructional, or drama the culprit that sends us down the stairwell of words into the guise of one who determines the life and death of their own  creation?  In other words, if we make a decision to begin something, isn’t it also allowable to change one’s mind in mid-stream and go another direction?  Or, would that be to much of a shock for the reader, whose expectations rely on common routes of travel?

"Let's see ... go up six blocks, take a right at the bakery, go another four blocks ..."

When does the character start or stop being reality?  Does the role we accept in Blogdom affect us in our daily lives?  Is there an obligation to always look at life in a certain manner in order to come up with the next installment?  When does Harry Potter stop becoming Harry Potter?  Must we perform in the nude to shed the image?  

For most of us, let's hope not.  

I, too, have a mirror!

But, if the role does affect us in our daily activities, are we losing out on observing what is really happening by limiting our field of vision?  When do we acknowledge we have blinders on? And, when does the need to shed them in order for deeper growth to continue take place?  Or, are we seeing the world as it truly is, unlike others that run through life so self absorbed that they fail to notice the ironies and false facades of those that govern, pretend to care, and pick their noses in private at those that offer support?

Of course, picking one's nose is justifiable in private, but not in public, 

or in a moving vehicle, regardless of how invisible you really think you are.  

So is burping, releasing gas, and peeing in the shower, 

as long as you don't tell people about it.  

So, I have supplied your head with questions that only you can answer.  Take your time.  It isn’t something that has to be done immediately.  In fact, if I were you, I would first ask myself, “Do any of these really apply to me?”  

If so, then you must decide on a course of action to lead you to the answer your heart desires to uncover.

If they don’t apply, then, don’t bother with them.  Just sit back, relax, and admit to yourself that this was sincerely one hell of a way to get your mind off the fact that I haven’t blogged or visited blogs in a week.  

My apologies.  

Guilty as charged.

Would it help if I said, “I’m sorry?”

Oh well, I tried.

Gabriela Speaks: Mommies and the Supernatural, Hollywood Style

Okay, no rap or song today!  

Time to get serious.

Rich is giving me one last chance to be good and guest blog.  So, I decided to pick out a serious topic this week, and really blog about something I'm very familiar with.  The supernatural.

This is a scary topic, especially for mothers ... and their kids!

Most of you have read about some of my past supernatural experiences.  If not, you can visit the links here to Hubpages.com for my first two stories:

Halloween Tales From A Demon Cat

Halloween Tales From A Demon Cat, Part 2

or, visit these pages of this page of this blog site for the last three stories Rich wrote for me, before I learned how to type:

Gabriela: The Demon Cat Series

I hope that none of you actively believe in ghosts.  Also, I hope that none of you ever become believers because of things you find yourself, or your family, experiencing.   But, just in case you do, I'm going to give you some of the ways that Hollywood has dealt with them.

So, put the kids to bed, turn the lights down low, and get ready to learn how different human mommies take care of the kids when the ghosts and spirits come around.

Good Mommies  

(or, "How I Would Hope I'd Be Most Like")

(1973)  The Exorcist.  
OMG!  Talk about a love for your child being put to the test!  Just imagine, you're a single mom, raising your daughter the best you can.  All of a sudden, she starts acting strangely.  Now, I'm not talking like she tried pot for the first time strange.  I'm talking her head rotating around 360 degrees, her appearance changes to that of a 40 year old crack addict, and her voice speaks in tones of a sick Scooby Doo.  Not only that, but she levitates!  

Mom takes it on the chin, literally.  After dealing with all the weirdness, including watching her daughter crawl down the stairs on all fours (in the extended video version) she calls in some help.   Anyway, she gives it all she's got.  She'll do anything for her demon possessed daughter, including cleaning her daughter's fresh urine up from a carpet in front of a house full of guests, as well as bringing in Catholic priests.  (I wonder if she'd have done it if she'd have had a son instead?) 

(1980)  The Shining.  
Just think about this.  You're husband gets a great new job.  He's going to be a caretaker at one of the most fancy hotels during a beautiful Winter season.  You and your son are going to have the run of the place, and you don't even have to dust!  Sit back, cook a few meals, watch some TV, and enjoy the peace and quiet.  Sounds like a dream doesn't it?  Especially if they have Wi-Fi!

Wake up!  The hotel is a Pandora's Box of spirits!  There's two little girls that were killed by their father (a past caretaker), a woman that changes from a beauty to a skin rotting old hag, and many others.  And, Shelley Duvall finds her husband, Jack Nicholson, gradually possessed by the hotel's spirits.  

I'm not going to spoil the movie (just in case you're the only person in the world that hasn't seen it), but let's say that Shelley does everything she can to protect her son.  This lady knows how to swing a mean baseball bat, slice and dice with a carving knife, and jump out of a window to do everything she can to protect her child.   This is a true display of a mother's love in the most desperate of circumstances.  (Moral of the story: Hotels are for afternoon visits and vacations ... keep the kids at home in both cases!)

Bad Mommies  

(or, "Would Someone Just Shoot Me")

(1976)  Carrie.  
I've yet to read a mommy blog that makes me think we've got any mommies like this around, but just in case, you might want to re-think your current lifestyle patterns.

In this situation, the daughter has a very special talent.  No, she's not a star center for her high school basketball team.  She has this ability of telekinesis, which wouldn't be bad if she wasn't so brain damaged.

See, in this case, the mother is a little screwy.  Well, maybe a lot screwy!  She has a hard time getting a grasp on reality because she was messed over by a man years ago, and left holding the bag, or the pregnancy as it seems.  So, she's forced her daughter into this lifestyle of religious fervor.  Her constant negativity towards men, biblical references, and inability to communicate with society bleeds to her daughter, Carrie (Sissy Spacek).  

Probably, setting a good example as a mother is one of the best things to do for your child.  Unfortunately, in this case, when you don't do that, and, when the child is picked on endlessly at school as a result, your time may be somewhat limited.  I won't spoil the ending for you, but let's just say that it was one of the bloodiest high school proms of all time.  So, instead, be a good mom ... and you might be around to enjoy your grandchildren!

(1982)  Poltergeist.  
So, you move into a house where a graveyard used to be located, only to find that the bodies haven't been removed.  Then, furniture in the house starts to re-arrange itself.  Normally, this might tell the densest of mothers that something's not quite right.  However, JoBeth Williams is not the brightest of mothers.

Let me ask you, if you set your daughter on the floor, and she was pulled across the room by an unseen force, wouldn't you be somewhat alarmed?  Of course your would!  But, it takes a whole lot more to get this mommy worried.  

I will give it to her, she does travel into another dimension to try to save her daughter, but, please, she never should have put her in a position of being there in the first place!  Then two more sequels followed!  (Where's Child Services when you need them?)

(1984)  A Nightmare On Elm Street.  
As a mother, some of the hardest decisions come from deciding when to keep secrets, and deciding on when the kids might be old enough to handle them.  Unfortunately, this movie doesn't demonstrate the best of that decision making process.

See, the parents formed a lynch mob and killed a child murderer before.  Now, the kids are paying for it ... one at a time with their lives as the supernatural side of the murderer returns.  And, as if that's not bad enough, they deny it almost to the end!  Denial problems run rampant on Elm Street.

There are times, keeping a secret can go just a little too far.   (Wait till you try to lie about that battery powered back muscle relaxer in the bedroom nite stand to see what I mean).

************************************************

So, you've seen the good and bad examples of how a mommy might handle the supernatural should it enter their life.  Girls, I will tell you that, from personal experience, the supernatural world is not one to play with by amateurs.  Nor, is it one to scoff.

You humans look at the world and see how crazy you are at times.  The evil inside of many humans seems to almost overcome the evil that is not commonplace, yet, still lurking and waiting.

Be it a haunting by a loved one, or a vengeful spirit, a haunting is still a haunting.  We animals see many things you humans do not.  Ask yourself, "Have I ever witnessed my pet staring at the ceiling at something I couldn't see?"   Many of you already know the answer and have seen it happen many times.  

Girls, be careful, maintain your spiritual beliefs, and protect your children.  A mother's love is a very powerful force, but, if you need professional assistance, don't be afraid to ask for it.  Remember, doing nothing for fear of embarrassment is much worse than solving a problem.  The ones you love need you and your strength.  The monster in the closet, ghost under the bed, or smiling clown in the rocking chair may not be as fake as you'd like to believe.  Just ask the folks from Amityville.  

And for God's sake, put those 

damn Ouija Boards in the trash!

Take Care!

FTSF: Superman, Super Sperm & Advice

Faster than a

 speeding bullet,

more powerful than a locomotive,

able to reap Google views in a single post,

look, up in the blogs,

it's a word, it's insane, 

it's

Finish The Sentence Friday!

Did you ever wonder about Superman?  

Here's a being from a different planet, that had no known fetishes (such as the anal probes of today's aliens).  He didn't drink, do drugs, smoke cigarettes, make love, or do any of the things that make humans human.  Yet, here was a person respected by all except his criminal enemies.

I'd say, "He should have been a priest", but he didn't mess around with little boys, either!

This is a man, pursued by just about every woman on the planet, yet he never messed around with one of them.  

Or, did he?

With his ability of super speed, could Superman have been the mysterious midnight marauder?  The one that caused women to wonder why they awoke in the middle of the night feeling as though the sensual dream they'd just experienced was so real?  

He had the ability to fly, so there' would be no body weight to awaken a sleeping victim.  

And, with his ability to time travel, could he have produced the concept of immaculate conception?

Perhaps, the Superman of comic fame had the last laugh on society.  Sitting high on a cloud, smoking a cigarette, and using his x-ray vision to check out the prospects of the land, he could select his next "Hello/Goodbye", one tenth of a second relationship!  

Superman, the sinister sadist supposing sinning soothed society's searing souls, 

single-handedly superimposing sexual sensations seemingly 

seamlessly and senselessly!

Perhaps, his own joke on the world was the big "S" on his chest, as he internally laughed knowing it stood for "Super Sperm!"  Little white, swimming creatures with a "S" on their chests, pounding through the barriers of a woman's natural defenses against unwanted pregnancies, with more power than a locomotive!  Able to breech all human body protections in a single stroke of their little tail!  Until the egg was reached, they'd form a giant "S" and push forward with powers not known to mortal man!  Then, when their goal was in sight, they'd lie in wait for the most fertile of monthly times before completing their purpose!

Naw, probably never happened.  

Or, did it?

Anyway, this is Finish The Sentence Friday!   

One again, dearly beloved, we have gathered to worship the ground upon which each other does trod.  We are here to finish the sentence provided by our Gods of Sentence Finishing listed with the rules  below:

This week, the task masters (or, task mistresses ... boy, does that sound wrong) have decided that This Week's Prompt will be:

”Speaking from experience, I’m going to give you a little advice on…”

(Makes you wish for a drum roll, doesn't it)

... Giving Advice!

Giving advice can be looked at as either a positive act, or a negative act.  When one gives it, they are feeling as though they are doing a very positive thing.  When one receives it, it is generally taken as a negative thing.  

Positive Outlook  (Giving):

1. I'm only trying to help.
2. I've been there, you haven't.  Believe me!
3. I'm your parent.  When you have kids, then you can tell them.
4. What's it going to take to get you to understand we love you?
5. I don't want you to have to experience what I had to, or, I'd prefer you learn through my mistakes instead of your own.
6. It's the best thing for you.
7. Time is not on your side.
8. Confucius say, ".......
9. If we were perfect, we'd always know just what to do.

Negative Outlook  (Receiving):

1. Mind your own business!
2. You're always meddling in my affairs.
3. Let me live my own life.
4. Times have changed and you don't know how it is now.
5. Why won't you quit badgering me?
6. I need to make my own mistakes and live my own successes.
7. I know what's best for me, you don't
8. I can always try other things later if I choose.
9. Get off my case.
10. If you knew as much as you thought you did, why are you still so screwed up?
11. You're not perfect, either!  Shut up!

Here's some rules I've followed in my life:

• Kids, generally, don't need advice.  They need direction.  If they knew the right thing to do, they wouldn't need you as a parent.  Letting them "choose their own direction" is an excuse for "I'd have to take time to help them and I don't want to miss Honey Boo Boo."  They may ask you for suggestions, but, in essence, they're asking you for direction.  "What college should I attend" is not a request for advice.  They are asking you for a viable way to figure out where they should go.  Show them how to gauge the quality of education in their desired course of study, view graduation rates, consider costs, and check out Playboy's annual rankings for "Party" schools.  Again, show them the way and the advice will not be needed.  (Just remember to provide aspirins, fake I.D.'s, and bail money.)
• Parents and In-Laws provide advice to young marrieds without consideration, treating those that receive it as still being 10 years old.  If you're asked for advice, give it as if those receiving it are your age, instead of younger.  You'll find it much more appreciated if you do.  (Remember, they're going to get your stuff when you die.  Make them want to keep it instead of planning on how to sell it on Pawn Stars!)
• When friends ask friends for advice, they're really just asking the friend for support in what they've already decided.  Unless they're really off base, support them.  You might even give them a book on what they've chosen.  If they're really off base, show support, but bring out the negatives that may occur.  Always reinforce that you'll be there for them whatever they decide.  (Then, go home and tell your spouse how stupid your friends are over a glass of wine.)
• Never give your employers advice.  (If they take it and it screws things up for them, you'll be looking for employment very quickly elsewhere!)
• Before you give advice, make sure you're living it.  Don't be a hypocrite!  (We have enough elected politicians for that!)

Of course, you could write a blog about giving advice to really screw things up.  Then, everyone will think you're a self proclaimed "Know It All" that is so damn egotistical that you believe everyone else is wrong, and you're the only one that's right!  They'll then stop visiting your blogs, sharing your posts, and talk badly about you in IM's.  

Before you do, 

let me give you some good advice .....

Gabriela Speaks: Girls Night Out

I'm red faced embarrassed
over last week's blog!

"I'm Embarrassed!"

Last week, not a lot of you commented on my post, and some of the comments were really almost words of sympathy.  My face is red as I feel like I blew it big time.

So Does Rich!

In fact, Rich was totally ticked off at me.  I have to admit, it is his blog, and he has a reputation to protect (as bad as it may be, lol).  He was so mad, he told me I couldn't guest post anymore.  

I was crushed and will admit, I shed some tears in expressing my feelings towards his incommunicado attitude.  Heartbroken, I felt as though I'd let down all my fans!  

Yes, I broke down and cried and cried!  When the big softy saw my matted fur around my eyes, he finally relented and decided to give me one more chance.

"Oh, great God of pussycats, please don't let me mess this one up!"

So now, the pressure's on me.  I've got to stay PG rated (which dahrlings, is a real task for me) and still pull in the readers.  He must think I'm Garfield!  I'm actually finding a few white hairs in my beautiful black fur from all the stress.  (Janine, I think it's time for that hair color we talked about a couple of weeks ago!)

So, let's get started.  It may be my final walk down the pirate's plank, but at least I'll go down with my paws patting the keyboard!

First thing I want to bring up is this advertisement I just saw.  Look at this one here to the right!

OMG, when did Obama go bald?????

He looks like Whoppee without 
the dreadlocks and glasses!!!

MIchelle, girl, 

why didn't you buy some Rogaine for your man! 

You can afford it, girl!  Sell one of those dyed, burlap bag dresses you been wearin' to hide your big tail and get your man a prescription to bring back his hair!  

And, iffin' he shaved his head tryin' to look all cool, you tell him he ain't no ugly man tryin' anything to look good, like Steve Harvey (Since he shaved his hair off, all he needs is a derby hat and he'd look like that old, big headed Mr. Potatohead, lol). 

Obama needs to make himself look good again by growin' it back out!  I didn't vote for no bald headed, chrome domed President!  Put your hair back on, boy!  This mama's needin' to fantasize about those hot nights with the Prez in the Oval Office, again!

Okay, enough of that.  Any more, and I'm gonna get myself in trouble with Rich ... again!

Last week, Ruchira asked me ta talk this week about GNO.  Now, I searched all week long to study the topic, but honey, there ain't a lot on the web about Gross Nose Obesity.  I guess we could pull up a picture a picture of Steve Harvey and stare at his nozola for a while, but y'all would start feelin' nauseated quick.

I added it anyway! lol
Steve Harvey
Licensed under the 
Creative Commons 
Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic

Then, Rich tells me that GNO means "Girls Night Out", not "Gross Nose Obesity."  (Like I'm supposed to know that on my own.)  

So, Ruchira, let's talk about it!


.......................................................

I'm waitin' girl!  Start talkin'!


......................................................

Girls, let me get all your
money so Geraldo and I
can enjoy our evening!

Oh well, Ruchira, iffin' you ain't gonna say anything, Rich's wife, Millie (And you think Gabriela is a weird name!  Can't you hear her mom when she was young, "Mildred, where are you Mildred?"  lololol), has told me about all the good times she had when Rich was out on the road doing comedy.  (And he thought she stayed home with the kids!)  So, I guess I'll discuss some of the things she's told me.

First off, she says her and her girlfriends used to go watch these Chippendale guys dance and strip on stage.  I say, "Girl, what's the big deal about goin' and watchin' men dance, when you know they're going home with men when they're done?"

Give me a real hetero man!  I like me a Tom cat that's lookin' at me and sayin', "Hey girl, you got the bootie I'm after", instead of, "Yeah, yours is okay, but Geraldo's booty is much tighter!"

Ooops!  Sorry!  Gotta be careful.  

Almost went PG-13 there!

Girls, I want a Tom that looks good, and likes knowin' I'm lookin' at him as much as he's lookin' at me.  But you humans, well, y'all are different.  Where cats don't mind "cattin' around" and checkin' out the different dudes, you humans stick with only one mate ... most of the time!  How stale that must get!

Who the Hell Are You!
I asked for Max!

With that being the case, I guess you feel safe in knowin' the dancers aren't lookin' for anything when they get done doing their dancing.  You can sit there, stuff their jock straps full of dollar bills, get drunk, make jokes about the hubby and kids, cry a little, and finally decide who can afford a lawyer before figuring out who the designated driver is going to be.  

Boring!  Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

You might as well stay at home and watch 

Dancing With the Stars!  

"Go Max ... Go Max!!!"

I remember how it used to be before the "Mommy" phase of life happened!

I'd go out, strolling the block.  I'd be whippin' my tail from side to side, makin' sure all the Tom's had a good view.  Then, I'd check out all the different Tom's on the block, and go to the next to do the same.  

I'd be drivin' them crazy!

This mama had the motion to move the notion of the ocean!

Then, when I found a Tom worthy of my attention (not one of those damn alley cats that didn't care about you), I'd fluff up my tail real big ... real big!   

Honey, that Tom's eyes would bulge out and he'd be sniffing the air to find out if I was just lookin', or ready to get to cookin'!   That's when the chase would begin!

After that ... well, after that a girl's gotta keep some secrets to keep her reputation in tact.  

We all had those wild days once.  Now, we sit around let ourselves be tamed, taking life easy and eating Little Friskies ... or whatever.  (I can't believe y'all don't like Little Friskies!  You really ought to give them a try sometime.)

So, who's driving home?

And "Girls Night Out", well, it's something we do just to get away and remind us that we're not dead inside.  We look at safe men because we know we don't trust ourselves to look at normal ones.  There's still some feelings inside that we have to watch and control.  The need to be free.  The need to experience more of life.  The need to show that we're not just tame house cats with no yearnings or desires.  

In other words, the need to "cat around" 
... just a little!

Yet, we look to our friends to keep us from going that extra mile that will get us in trouble.  The act that would jeopardize losing all we have, including those we love the most.  Those friends with whom we share our hearts and trust to help us keep from doing something stupid.  

With these friends we share our "Girls Night Out."  We can keep each other safe, have our fun, and then go home where we hug our families, and feel the warmth of the security and love they offer.

Unless you're a cat.  Then, you just gotta party!!! 

Yeehaw!!!

Take care, y'all!