It's my party

Lol. Yep, that's me. I just love the sound of my own syrupy seductive voice. Who doesn't right?! I had to remind myself that THIS. Is. MY. BLOG. No one else's. I can talk about whatever I want to here. Nothing is off limits. Nothing. This is my place to expound, vent, or express myself like an engorged bossom waiting for her youngin. Verbose? Exhausting? Comedic? Heartfelt? Guilty. I like to talk. I'm taking off my bra and panties and I'm going to talk about what I want to. Whether it's flimsy, meaningless, or something I"m passionate about. I've realized that I don't always "let it all hang out" gasp and this year I'm gonna. So, if it offends let me show you to the door now.....

She bugs me. Really, really bugs me. I just don't get what all the fuss is abut.I suffer through as she interrogate interview many of my favorite star as she flits her manicured hands in the air as if swatting flies. Flipping and tossing her hair around like a teen with a crush. AND the way she leers at her prey subject with her gigantic choppers. Could they be any bigger?! She can barely get her collagen lips over her teeth. Freaky. Surely she's heard that "less is the new more". Ugh. Clearly fighting with the aging process as she clings onto what was. It pains me. Who you ask. Jill Rappaport. She and this illusion of good. Now that's a whole other post. Ok, I feel better. Next up.

I detest road warriors. And especially in rush hour traffic. As I sit in my car anxiety ridden calmly idling waiting my turn to move an inch I see him out of the corner of my eye. He's weaving in and out of the traffic. For a minute I feel like I'm back in China! He looks good. Or so he thinks in his big bad black shiny machine . Jut daring anyone to jump out in front of him. And then there here is. Bam. Squeezing into a space clogged thicker than an artery. Jerk! You're so cool in your your big ole stinkin Hummer. Look. At. You. And get off the phone. Romeo. I'm assuming you can read cuz you had to pass a motor test in order to drive that pimp daddy smokin machine thing. But, could you not see the big yellow sign? The one that says "hey you lame ass, lane ends merge here, moron"! WTF? Of course there is the other scenario too. You know the ones who sit in the passing lane driving 45 mph trimming their nose hairs. On the beltway! Shzzz.



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This has been my week in the car on the beltway. I hope this is not going to be a daily occurrence!! I thought for a minute this morning I was back in south Florida. Well, not because of the weather, but the elderly behind the wheel. Their lives are good and the martinis are free flowing everyday. Life is one big party. But not here. Not in our nations capital where everyone works. Or is a politician. lol. Not a high concentration of retirees in this area. I observed this boat in the passing lane causing everyone to pass in frustration. And then there she was right in front of me. Like a hood ornament! She finally moves to the far right lane. I'm inching up on her left when I feel her very close. Very, very close. SHE WAS. She was again changing lanes but merging into my lane! My heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to jump out of my chest! I slammed on my horn (on the beltway) and in her semi-conscious stupor she swerves. I suspect a little "nip" in her coffee. Anyway, she swerves right and then back to the left and almost smashes into another car. Then she's back in my lane. We were sharing my lane. Again. I'm all about the elderly keeping their independence but for the love of g-d not at the expense of a life. I glance in my rear view mirror and she was in the median where the two lanes met. I'm sure she was shook up. I know I was.