7/30/00

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July 2000

7/30/00

Forgive me for I have not posted. It has been nine days since my last posting. (A little secular vernacular. Well, heck, it's Sunday. My mom's a Catholic. Okay?) Not a lot going on... Oh I know -- the same-old, same-old mantra. But it's soooo very true. Jeez, what a waste of bandwidth to post my wistful bleats. So, it's "free form," "stream of consciousness" time...

Eavesdropping.Ate at IHOP yesterday with my mom (I had the International Omelet with three buttermilk pancakes, if you must know). A couple in their late fifties came in, pointing our table out to the hostess. I heard the man say to the hostess that the corner window booth (exactly where we were sitting) was their "usual" table. (Oh my!) He said it as if the table had been reserved and had his name stenciled on it. As if my mom and I were illegally squatting on a remote corner of his property. As if we had sneaked in the back door and were now surreptitiously dining hoping that His Lordship would not catch us taking our gruel in his royal galley. Yeah, he sounded that pissy.

Well, his wife seemed one of those long-suffering women who are perpetually apologizing for their mate's boorish comments/behavior. She smiled at us and said, "Oh this is just one of our usual tables." So, they sat down at the table directly to our left. Jeez, I hate booths like that. I mean, we're separated by mere inches -- it's almost as if we're dining together. Oh well.

So, the waiter (a young college student I presume) brought glasses of water for them. Later, when the waiter came back to take their orders, he said, "Good -- I brought you your water. I'd forgotten." Well, His Lordship sniffs, "You're pretty young to be losing your memory. You just brought us our water a couple of minutes ago." Ouch. Poor waiter -- his face went bright crimson. So I remarked, "Well, it's hard to multi-task when you have a lot of tables to wait" and have to take care of prissy assholes like this old fart. I didn't say that last bit -- but I sure wanted to.

How much of a tip to you think His Lordship left, I wonder? Probably a pissy, piddly one. His kind always does.

What's happened to Lara Flynn Boyle's legs? They look kinda like inverted horse's legs -- except that horses have more meat on their bones. And Jack Nicholsen is schtupping her? Ghod, I hope she's on top -- otherwise, there'd be nothing more than a mashed smear that was once Lara Flynn Boyle. If this woman loses any more weight, she'll disappear into a single molecule. Yikes. It's painful to look at her. I'd hate to get jostled by one of her elbows -- I'd probably end up in the ER with a stab wound.

And speaking of skinny, wasted-looking extremities -- take a look at Portia Di Rossi's arm. Yuck. I've seen rubberbands with more bulk. Jeez, look at the deep crease running down the inside of her arm. Is that a loose tricep flapping under there? Double-yuck. Ick. Bleah. Oh, this is not attractive, Portia. Not at all. Oh, and those NutraVive by Loreal commercials with Portia raising her arms and flipping her silky blonde tresses. I mean, she's wearing a jacket, but you can still see how emaciated her arms are beneath the sleeves. Then when she grabs a handful of hair and proclaims, "I'm worth it" -- her bony hands look like small garden rakes with skin stretched over them. Yuck. Ick. Bleah.

Now, here's healthy, proud-to-be-a-size-eight Daisy Fuentes. She looks like a real woman. You won't catch this girl starving herself into desiccation. Uh-uh. I'm sure that Lara and Portia and the rest of their ectomorphic sistahs consider Daisy something of a porker. And I'm certain that to them, Kate Winslet is morbidly obese. Oh, heavens! She's a double-digiter! Oh, my! Let's tape her mouth shut so she can't eat. She can slurp her meals through a straw like we do. Come over to the dark side, Daisy and Kate, they whisper as their sketetal arms beckon. Be one with us, and forsake thy food to be thy hallowed size zero...

No. I. Don't. Think. So. Daisy and Kate are just fine as they are. They have healthy, strong bodies and they will not succumb to the siren song of starvation. I mean, why be a twig when you can be the tree?

News Flash to Lara and Portia: Eat a cookie or a piece of carrot cake with lots of cream cheese frosting or a bunch of barbecued chicken wings or a big bowl of butterscotch pudding or a bagel or a bowl of Häagen Daz Dulce de Leche ice cream...or...something! Eat like a normal person, fer crissakes. You look like crap. Dammit.