Well, wedding season is upon us, and I have received my first wedding
invitation of the season. As I was filling in the RSVP I was wondering how much
one of these "celebrations" cost people nowadays. According to USA Today the
average wedding is $27,852. Holy hell!!! Do you know what one could do with that
kind of cash???? Here are some better things one could do with $27,852

Any way you look at it there are a whole lot of things better one could do
with the money then feed your fat, bastard friends and family. Mind you this
$27,852 price tag also takes into account you invited 400 people. (That actually
seems kind of cheap to me, $69.63 per person – I suppose if you could convince
each guest to pony up $100 and not buy you a crystal bowl then maybe getting
married might not be a bad idea.) Sorry, I digressed. Now who knows 400 people
that they actually like enough to feed and get liquored up??? Anyone?? I don’t
think I could possibly think of 100 people I like enough to feed and buy
numerous round of drinks for. What a scam?

But wait… I also discovered a bigger wedding scam in my search.  I found
you can actually buy wedding insurance. Now whomever thought of that was a
genius, getting the idea to once again capitalize on the entire wedding
"tradition." It looks like you can pay money to cover wedding costs for a
drunken family member busting a hip while dancing the Macarena, death or illness
of one of the love birds, a runaway bride, wardrobe mishaps, and even the cost
of redoing those precious photos because you hired your cousin to take those
photos and they got lost in his drunken partying. Got to admit this is the
biggest scam next to selling vitamins or cleaning products!

Now I know there are some people out there saying, "Oh, Trash, you are just
bitter cuz you ain’t married." My answer: "Thank heavens!" I cannot imagine
spending that kind of cash on something, especially adding the religious
ceremony aspect to it. I don’t go to church and plunk down that kind of dough to
be preached at, so why do it now??? Let us not forget that what actually makes
you married is when you sign a legal contract with the government stating that
you want to be tied to another human being for the rest of your life. So the
next time you are heading off to a wedding, go ahead and toss the same amount of
money in that wedding envelope that you would when you attend church on Sunday.
Oh, in my case I guess that means… Nothing!

Thinking about it, though, if
I ever do get married, maybe I’ll just put on the wedding invite what I think is
an appropriate gift, probably about 60% above what the blessed event is actually
costing me.  That would pay for a nice, exotic vacation, I mean honeymoon,
on top of it all.  Would that be tacky?

See ya!
Trash

Well it’s been awhile since my last "Trash" and the past few weeks have been
pretty rough in the news. I mean we have not seen a drunken Britney sighting in
weeks (except for the supposed lame concert she put on in L.A. yesterday) and at
this point I would love to see Jessica Simpson shave her head just to bring
humor back to the news. Instead we keep hearing about people killing people -
Pretty much a bummer, so I needed to put some thought into this trash.

So what has gone all crazy these days that nut jobs are going around and
shooting up people and places??? Think about it: There have been bullies for
decades, there have been bad parents for decades, there have been video games
since Atari, and we stressed over making sure aliens were dead or the asteroid
was destroyed, but you didn’t see my generation freaking out.  Much.

Soooooo, what changed?!?

Well it hit me like the smell of Britney’s un-pantied crotch. Global Warming.
I think some tax dollars need to be spent on this one – Global Warming I mean
and not the smell of Britney’s un-pantied crotch, and maybe they could also
throw some money on researching why people think all Catholics must like Notre
Dame football (This year’s star player picked in the NFL draft at number
twenty-"what" instead of number five? Hee-hee!)

Think about it – The oceans are getting hotter. Did ya ever run into the
ocean and feel angry? Hell no, unless you realized your car keys were in your
pocket and they just went out to sea. When you run into the ocean you feel
refreshed, calm, cool. So, with the ocean being a smidge warmer, a dip in the
ocean just isn’t that damn refreshing and as a result you get pissed and can’t
cope with life.

Think about it, again – The weather is getting warmer up North. Did ya ever
run out into the snow as a kid (not as an adult, adults are always angry about
snow) and feel angry? Hell no, unless you realized your brother had a kick-ass,
ice packed, snowball to throw at the back of your head. When you run outside,
into the snow, you feel refreshed, calm, cool. So, with the weather in the North
being a smidge warmer, running out into the snow just isn’t that damn
refreshing, and as a result you get pissed and can’t cope with life.

So I guess until this research comes out and "experts" (my favorite kind of
people) tell us what the research means, my advice is… COPE WITH LIFE! It has
sucked for generations before us and will suck for generations after us. Find
humor, keep smiling, and you will survive and succeed beyond your (or any of the
bullying bastards) expectations.

And, oh yea, quit with the shooting up of people and places, it just pisses
me off and since the ocean isn’t as refreshing anymore I’m having trouble coping
with your not coping with life.  Maybe I should have bought a plane ticket
to L.A. to see The M+M’s concert, I mean Britney Spears, to set me straight for
a couple of weeks.

See ya!
Trash

I think it is getting harder and harder to know who is white trash these
days. I blame home interest rates being low and the crappy market. Let me
explain.

I live in a good, middle-class neighborhood. We all live in nice houses (not
trailers and not manufactured homes which you might associate with the white
trash nation), we have yards, and many of us have kids playing in backyards. We
also have a nice, little, wooded area across the way that once in awhile a deer
comes walking out of to stroll down the street. Well, this peace and harmony was
shattered the other night, around 1:30AM, when I hear someone arguing in the
neighbor’s driveway. Now this is not a stretch since my window was open and
faces the driveway, but I was fortunate enough to hear a good ole, white trash,
Jerry Springer
fight! And to make it more interesting, apparently the argument was over the
phone so of course it was more appropriate for the fight to be held outside
instead of in the house. Hell, Jerry wouldn’t turn off the cameras if he were
here so why should my neighbor go inside of his house? Remember, white trash
always needs an audience. The argument ranged from needing a paternity test
(although there is no way he raped her since he was out of town that weekend) to
her “ma” spent all the money so she is shit out of luck.

Now don’t get me wrong, this argument was also very educational. I heard the
word "fuck" used in ways I never thought possible, with my world being opened up
to whole new way of using “fuck” as an adjective. There was also a legal lesson.
You see my neighbor "looked it up," he could get her charged with felony
trespessin’ if she came over to the house. I would LOVE to see the local law
enforcement handling that one and would actually grab a lawn chair, pop some
popcorn, and film it for “COPS.”

The argument went on for a good half hour, but apparently he had to cut the
argument short because the pickup truck was running in the driveway. But thank
God he shut off the truck so he could call back and argue some more! Whew! I did
not think a half hour of degrading a woman was long enough and it definitely
needed that half hour more. Really, who would want to miss another half hour of
hearing fuck describe every noun in a sentence! But rather than complain about
the argument I guess I was lucky that night because the neighbor’s fucking
rottweiler shut up that night instead of its normal barking at 1:30AM.

Anyone in the market for a nice, middle-class house?

See ya!
Trash

I just got back from my annual Las Vegas trip. Each time I visit I like to
try something new and this time the cosmic Vegas energy pulled me toward a nudie
bar. Yepper, I said “nudie bar,” otherwise known as a Gentleman’s Club. These
places are pretty much a mystery for most of the girlfriends and wives in the
world, and I can officially say that what you think happens in there is nothing
close to reality. Granted I can only speak to the one I went into, but it was
Vegas, and it was a nudie bar. Kicking off, the girls that I met are really
great to talk to, and I learned a great deal about the business. I am sure you
don’t want those boring details so I will move onto the good stuff…. breasts.
Yes, I finally got my hands on a good, silicone-filled breast. I have always
wanted to feel one of those (having been blessed with big, natural hooters, I
don’t need to enhance mine), and I have always thought they looked different -
Perfectly round and both boobs match, which is not the case with real ones. They
are a little firmer then real ones, but all in all I would have to say they feel
pretty damn nice, kind of like a firm pillow, which was proven when the girls
allowed me to do a “motor-boat” in them. I also have to mention that the girl’s
skin is the softest I have ever felt, next to a baby’s. The skin treatments
these girls use definitely pays off, leaving their skin kind of like a firm
pillow with flannel sheets.

Now it was also brought to my attention that you guys out there are not
allowed to touch these soft, firm boobs, which would explain why every guy in
the place had their hands hanging off the sides of the chair like they were
paralyzed, I guess so that Brutus the bouncer doesn’t come over and kick your
ass. So, any vision women have that the guy is groping the girl on his lap is
pretty much wrong, unless the girl gives permission (which does not seem to be
often). Pretty much he cannot touch her. I was also a little surprised by the
lap dance experience. Now don’t get me wrong, it is pretty cool, but it is the
only time the girl had no top on. Also, since there was alcohol being served,
she had on a g-string, so she is not completely naked. The lap dance is pretty
much a lot of rubbing and boobs in your face only she does the rubbing and
you’re not rubbing her, although I did get a spank in on her firm, little butt
(I am a female so Brutus was not going to kick my ass).

I was disappointed in the stage dancers because they didn’t do acrobatic
stunts on the pole. I guess Hollywood makes that look more interesting, but for
the most part the girls just danced around the stage, around the pole. A little
bit of a bummer.

All in all I think women need to visit a nudie bar at least once and see that
what you think is going on is much worse then the reality of what is going on.
There is a difference between a hooker and a stripper, or exotic dancer as they
are sometimes called, and granted some strippers may blur the line. But if your
man is willing to do that, a strip club is the least of your worries. And
besides, the sex you get from your man after he has been all teased up by a
stripper is definitely worth the price of his admission to these places. So
girls, LIGHTEN UP!

See Ya!
Trash

I have gone past my period of mourning and am now into afternoon over Anna
Nicole Smith. I realized that I could not make a convincing argument that I was
the father of her daughter. Too bad. I also have not been able to place any of
my sperm-toting buddies in the same room with her at any point of time to claim
they are the father.

It does seem a damn shame this was never a
"Jerry Springer"
nor "Maury Povich"
episode ‘cuz I love a good paternity fight. Think about it! It would have been
great to see Zsa Zsa up there crying, with mascara rolling down her face, while
Prince Zsa Zsa claimed the baby as his love child. Oh, and let’s not forget good
ole Howard K Stern. I figured he would be picking up a chair and throwing it at
the ex-boyfriend calling him a liar. The whole time Anna would be attempting to
say something that did not sound like "mumbled ramblings." Too bad!

Every time I see Jerry or Maury have a good ole paternity fight I have to
chuckle. I mean loosing track of who you slept with at the same time as getting
pregnant has got to be embarrassing, especially when the 3-4 guys that "have to
be" the father turn out not to be. Oops, my bad. Guess it was the 6th guy (condoms
might be a good idea at this point).

I know sex is fun, but Ladies, have some self respect. A little spermicide
with a rubber policeman (to serve and protect) goes a looooooonnnng way. If you
do not like that idea, then keeping a calendar of who you banged, and when,
could be. This might just help keep track of the papa to be.

I also wonder why a guy would ever trust a woman in the pregnancy department
anyway. I wouldn’t, and I am a woman. Hell, your clock is ticking; the eggs are
running out, you think you are becoming an old hag that no one loves – What will
fix that??? Oh, a baby will! Remember guys, there are actually girls out there
that will advise their friends to get pregnant to trap the guy. Breaking news,
this is not an old wive’s tale, it actually happens (seen it, heard it,
witnessed it)! Tell ya one thing: NEVER TRUST A WOMAN. Unless of course she is a
millionaire, then who cares if you knock her up….she will either pay for your
silence or pay you to play daddy. Can’t lose there, can you?

Now, boys, if you’re the millionaire you can guarantee a baby is coming out
of that deal. Holy crap! That is the jackpot, you will definitely pay for her
silence or, …wait, …there is no other option, you WILL pay for her silence. As
you can tell I am on the boy’s side of this argument, mostly because I am tired
of idiots reproducing. The world is screwed up with most of us in it, why do we
think making a contribution of our genes will make it better? Please, there
should be a screening process. Idiots get fixed (hey, if it is okay for dogs why
not people?) and non-idiots are paired up with another non-idiots to make them
babies.

Now wait, I do have to take a moment and feel bad for the baby girl of Anna
Nicole, Dannielynn. She did not ask to be born to the fucked up situation,
although some words of encouragement for her…. it could be worse, Mommy could be
Britney Spears! Hmmm, do I see Britney filling the void Anna left behind! Hell
yes, and I cannot wait to see and read more.

See Ya!
Trash

Okay, so I ran out of shampoo this weekend. Now it is important to realize
I am very picky when it comes to my shampoo. I figure if a haircut costs
$40.00 then I must have a pretty special head of hair. Why else would it
cost so much, right? Yea, I know, they are sticking it to me. Well, since
I’m picky about my shampoo I cannot just drive over to the Piggly Wiggly to buy
it, this takes an actual trip with effort involved. So I drive over to one
of the only two salons… See, fancy already, it is a SALON, not a grocery
store, within 2 hours of my pad, to get my shampoo. Now, when I arrive, I
am greeted at the door with a smile, and I rush over to the display with my
magical brand of shampoo.
AVEDA – oooh, earth
and science in a bottle. Sadly I notice there is no 8.5 oz bottle of my
shampoo type. Yes – my hair deserves a specific type of a specific brand,
but there is only the 33.8 oz sized bottle. So I ask for the smaller
bottle… I don’t have hair all over my body which requires that much shampoo… I
come to find out AVEDA no longer makes it in the smaller bottle. Okay, one
more person sticking it to me.

So I have to suck it up and purchase the
grizzly-bear sized bottle. Okay, so I didn’t pay attention to the cost of
the grizzly-bear sized bottle (hmm, $40.00), but since I pay that much for a
hair cut why should I complain? I smile, pay the girl, and drive home with
my head all a tingle because I will be once again treating my hair with AVEDA -
ooooh, earth and science in a bottle. So, I proceed to place the
grizzly-bear sized bottle of shampoo… Oh wait! WHAT THE HELL? Yes,
having not excelled in reading French in grammar school I missed that instead of
shampoo I have a huge grizzly-bear sized bottle of CONDITIONER! Who in the
hell needs a gigantic bottle of conditioner??? Also, when I specifically
asked about SHAMPOOOOOO, how did the happy girl at the counter somehow hear
AVEDA conditioner? And also, is it sooo difficult to clearly use the
English language to boldly indicate CONDITIONER on a bottle? Hell, there
is plenty of room on a 33.8 oz sized bottle to spell out conditioner in bold
writing with underlines! Even the 8.5 oz of conditioner is in a different
shaped bottle so you cannot get them confused. So now I must take a trip
back to exchange for a bottle of shampoo and oh, by the way, the magical SALON
is closed on Mondays so I, and my hair, have to wait even one more day. This makes me wonder: Is shaving my head really such a bad idea?

See Ya!
Trash

Last week, in a nutshell, wasn’t too bad.

First there was news of the
Doomsday Clock moving
5 minutes before midnight. Now at first I was a little concerned, I mean this
clock is counting down to the end of the world – shouldn’t we all be stockpiling
food and water? This has to be as bad as Y2K, right? Well isn’t it? Oh wait; I
have no idea what the hell the Doomsday Clock is! Apparently I live under a rock
because this is a very important turn of events. After a quick search on the
information superhighway all is revealed. I found out that I don’t know anything
about this clock because I missed every issue of the Bulletin of the Atomic
Scientists, since 1947. Whew! I was really worried. Somehow that information was
missing among
global warming,

WMD’s and

Britney Spears not wearing underwear while out partying. Which makes me
wonder why in the world are a bunch of geeks changing time on a clip-art clock
every time they decide some nuclear threat has changed (did I mention it is an
arbitrary decision). Oh I know! They are

"experts." Need I say more……?

Then there is the start of
American Idol. Now I
must admit I do not care for the actual competition, I like to see the
auditions. I mean come on; can you believe there are people who don’t realize
they suck as bad as they do? I love the contestants that go up there, sing like
goats being tortured, and cry when Simon tells them the truth. How is it
possible that people can go through life actually thinking they have the best
voice on the planet? Do all of their friends and families actually think they
are good? Aren’t they supposed to love ya, or at least want to protect the
family name? It is mind-boggling. From what I can tell the only person who
actually loves these people (or humanity) is Simon. Hell, he will actually look
you in the face and tell you the truth. There should be less bashing of Simon
and more bashing of the uncaring family members who would rather you be
publicly humiliated then tell you, in private, that you can’t sing.

To round off my week I successfully took my demon dog to the vet. Now you
have to experience my demon dog to truly understand the success of this event.
My demon will bite just about anyone, at anytime, because you only thought about
touching her (I have scars to prove it). Now since her demonic behavior did not
appear until I had her for over 2 years, I couldn’t get rid of her because,
well, she was my demon dog. So, after extensive training and Prozac (for me and
the dog), I have been able to control most of her anger issues. This last one
was a stress free trip to the vet (for me not her). Face it, what dog wants
needles and fingers stuck in their butt? Usually this trip consists of a few
sedatives and three to four vet assistances holding her still. This time, after
five minutes and only three angry snaps at my hands, I was able to get a muzzle
on her. This was then followed by a calm, quiet, sober dog taking a shot in her
butt, and allowing fingers up her butt, without so much as a whimper. Could this
mean the exorcism worked? Only time will tell.

See Ya!
Trash

I thought about making my first "Trash" entry all about me, about who I am,
where I come from, but screw that.  If you want to know about me, my

Entertainment Ave! bio is here. 

So, you know what, here it is, the third week of January and I wondered how
are all of those resolutions for 2007 are  working out for you? The answer
is probably "Pretty damn bad."

This year I decided to use the advice of "experts" to set my 2007 goals. 
Hey, they are "experts," they get paid pretty good money to sit in a chair on
CNN, and they give you advice. I figured those "experts" had to know something I
didn’t – After all, how can you fail with advice like… "set realistic goals"
and "don’t get discouraged if you slip."  Well, apparently, I do know
something these "experts" do not know…..my life in 2006 is just as crappy as
it was in 2007.

Let’s take the resolution millions of American’s make every year.  "In
2007, I will lose 10 pounds."  Now before I allowed myself to fail, I took
the advice of "experts" and modified that goal to be "I will exercise at least
20 minutes, three days a week (to get that Bowflex body of course)."  Well
even as we speak I have managed to crank out only one 30 minute workout. 
WHY!?  Easy!  I did not change jobs in 2007.  I have the same
crappy hours.  I continue to work my ass off for 12 hours a day, five days
a week, to come home tired.  And I manage to make my way to the couch when I
get home, and have to convince myself tomorrow will be better.  Guess what! 
It is not any better because I still have the same job with long hours!  If
I actually had any chance of meeting my simple goal of exercising at least 20
minutes, three days a week (to get that Bowflex body), I would have had to have
achieved a different goal first…..find a  better job with fewer hours.  Oh,
and screw that don’t get discouraged crap.  I was a human being in 2006,
and I guess that I am still a human being in 2007.  So let us think about
this one – If I had the human emotion of disappointment in 2006, I am guessing
nothing magical happened at midnight, 2007, in whatever time-zone, to erase that
human emotion (no spaceship took me on board and did experiments on me at
midnight, I think).

So I have to ask myself this new question…  "How does one become a CNN
‘expert?’"  My guess is they only work 10 hours a week and may not actually be
human.  If I had that gig then I would have all of the time in the world to achieve
my goal, and not feel bad if I didn’t!

See Ya!
Trash