Dare to be Stupid

It's Amberthyme here. I am honored, if somewhat baffled, to be chosen as a guest blogger for my friend Anne. The other three bloggers,QofD, The Berserker and Jay, are so funny I laugh so hard that my children ask me wierd questions:
"Mommy, why is your leg wet?"
"I spilled."
"Why is your butt wet?"
"I spilled over my shoulder."
"Mommy! Pee goes in the potty!"
My blog is more about me whining and being sappy. So, with the support of the other wonderful bloggers ::hick:: and Anne's "special" cabinet here I go . . .

One fine New Year's Eve my good friend Anne and I decided to get drunk. Not just drunk, pretty much shitfaced. She procured some some oranges spiked with vodka and we debated about the practicality of spiking a watermelon (we decided againgst it. Out of season they were too expensive and we didn't have a large enough pokie thingie to get past the rind anyhow). We took inventory of several different types of alcohol and had profound conversations about their mixability (with each other and other substances), decided on our favorites, and broke out several kinds of fancy glasses from the top shelf of my cabinet. After washing the dust off of them we finally decided to get down to business.
Just then the phone rang.

Newlywed (sort of) Couple: "Hey, wanna come over to our new apartment for New Year's Eve?"

US: Giggle, giggle. "We're planning on getting drunk. Got spiked oranges and everything."

NWCouple: "That's O.K. We're just watching a movie. You guys can come over here and do that."

US: "O.K. Cool."

We packed up the party and drove on over to our friends house.

Over the next several hours we ate oranges, imbibed various vodka oriented mixtures, and watched the movie. While they just watched the movie.

Stephen King's "It" doesn't seem nearly as scary when you're drunk. Especially on the small screen.

Anne: "Dang, Tammy Fay is really caking on the makeup nowadays innt ssshe?

Me: "It's a clown on hemeroids. Um, steroids."

Anne: "No honey, it's a clown on crack. C-R-A-C-K. See when he bends over. Just like a plumber."

Me: "Dude, crack makes plumbers wear makeup? Good thing we're drinking. And not plumbing."
giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, snort.

After the movie was over and the bottles empty we were wayyyyy too sloshed to drive. I believe we invited ourselves to the couch and the floor. Our lovely female friend had turned in to a pumpkin and retired to her bedroom several hours before this point. But we lounged around talking about stuff when Anne decided she had to wear something else to sleep in. Now! Maybe her pants were too tight? Maybe a wild hair was bothering her but she had to wear something else immediately. So we harassed our good friend into getting something for her to wear. He didn't feel comfortable offering his new bride's clothing to another woman so he brought out his bicycle shorts and a big t-shirt. When she was done changing Anne raised her arm pointed her finger to the sky and proclaimed:

Anne: "I have, finally, gotten into his pants. What?! It's not like I was going to any other way!"

Me: "I" giggle, giggle, "am" giggle, giggle, "going" giggle, "to" giggle, giggle, "pee!!" snort. Thunk, thunk, thunk down the hall to the bathroom.

Shortly thereafter we passed out. The next morning we took our empty bottles and said goodbye. We felt a good time was had by all. Unfortunately, we found out through other people that we were mistaken. They thought that we were "stupid drunks". Isn't that an oxymoron? No, I remember, oxymoron is just fun to say. And write. Besides "stupid drunk" is redundant. We did warn them of our nefarious plan. Muahahahahahahah. ::hic:: Stupidity is in the eye of the sober. I used to get really mad thinking about this story. How rude of them to call us stupid . . .yada, yada, yada. Now, I just look back, blend myself one of those sticky girly drinks, and raise my glass.
Dare to be stupid!
Now, pass the vodka.

Found it!

Oooh, ooh. QoD I found the cat!

Wait! Don't let the kid pet it . . .
Aaak!
Too late.
I'll go get the turpentine to separate the cat from the child.
I knew I should have waited until the paint dried.
Sigh.

Uh...

Quick. Is there anyone in the Sacramento-To-Greater-San-Francisco-Bay-Area that has a black cat of medium build that can be trained easily and is willing to have it's mind wiped?

Not that there's uh, any particular reason. You know. Nothing to see here really. I mean unless you have a black cat that you are willing to part with.

(But if you do can you bring a shovel also? Maybe some garbage bags? Oh, and point me in the direction of a reasonably sized plot of bare land that goes at least three feet deep?)

(Not that anything happened Annie. Jay, Jim, Amber and I have everything under control. So just have yourself another pina colada, kick back and enjoy your cruise.)

(But before you get too drunk there's no chance that Cosmic Creepers had a doppelganger with identical tags in the downtown area is there?)

(That's what I thought.)

Cruising Along ....

Hello kids! Jay from Cynical_Bastard here.

This is, believe it or not, my first EVER guest post, anywhere.

I know it’s hard to believe, given my brilliance and popularity willingness to whore myself out to anybody, anywhere, anytime. Anyway, I know DDQ is counting on me so I promise to apply the same lack of commitment, low standards and complete lack of discretion to this blog as I do to my own. I hope I don’t let her down.

Unlike the Queen of Dysfunction, The Berserker Librarian and AmberThyme, I don’t have any great DDQ stories to tell. Well, there was that one trip to Nuevo Laredo, but since there is no statute of limitations on civil actions, and since we don’t want to embarrass America anymore than we already have, I can’t talk about that.

Honestly, if the donkey had lived I don’t think there would have been a problem. Also, I know many of the people of Nuevo Laredo are poor and all, and probably don't have cable, but I’m still amazed that they actually believed DDQ when she told the locals that our names were Jerry and Elaine. That was some fast thinking!

On a positive note, we left Mexico with a whole new respect for little people.

--

Anyway, I have a couple of updates from DDQ’s trip so far. She’s been having a great time but all the alcohol has led to a few embarrassing situations....

1. Upon landing in Puerto Rico and running into a female worker at the airport she said “Hey J-Lo, what’s happening? Shake that ass baby!”

2. She then embarrassed her whole family by shouting “Doesn’t anyone speak American around here?”

3. As soon as she got on the cruise ship she asked the female greeter “Are you Julie? Where’s Isaac and which bar is tending? I need a drink.”

4. After getting to her cabin DDQ read the instructions for the emergency exercise and decided she should take this very seriously and approach it as if it was a real emergency. So, when the alarm went off she took off down the hallway in her skivvies pushing old people and little kids out of the way while screaming “OH MY GOD!!!! WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!”

Once she got to the designated spot she grabbed two kids and told them they were going with her and not their parents. When they asked why she said “Cause I need something to throw out of the lifeboat to the sharks to keep them happy.”

Anyway, she seems to be settled in now and has found out where each bar is located so she feels much better. She even sent a couple of pictures from her first deep sea fishing excursion....

Partyin' Like Rockstars

Alright, so hello everyone. I'm Steph of Queen of Dysfunction and I'm here with Jay, Jim, and Amber to trash DDQ's place while she's off in the land of giardia and two-bit donkey shows.

Since I'm hungover after partying with the other four in Annie's pad last night, let's kick things of with something easy shall we? How about our experience with Delta fucking airlines during the first girl's vacation I ever took with Annie and our friend Ashley:

If Satan wanted to increase the misery in hell a notch he would do well to enlist the help of a customer service consultant trained by Delta Airlines.

In March of 2005 Annie, our friend Ashley and I discovered that Delta Airlines operates somewhat akin to an un-greased dildo in the ass: you go to delta.com, select your flight then plug in your credit card information. In return for your hard-earned cash you receive an e-ticket confirmation that is absolutely worthless until you arrive at the airport to physically confirm that a plane is at your assigned gate and your flight’s crew actually bothered to show up for work sober.

We purchased tickets to fly from Sacramento, California to Savannah, Georgia for vacation.

We arrived at the airport in Sacramento and was informed immediately that our flight was an hour late, which turned into three hours by the time we boarded. Not to worry, said the flight attendant, our connecting flight was delayed three hours as well.

I think she had intended this to be good news. Instead it left us wondering what army of drunken orangutans had been entrusted to run this operation. As it turns out it was a rather stupid and disagreeable army and calling them orangutans would be an insult to apes.

Finally, three hours later, we were flung into the not-so-friendly skies on board an aging contraption that looked like Wilbur and Orville may have christened it’s maiden flight. As if the rattle-trap condition of the plane weren’t enough, God found humor on this particular afternoon by flinging us around on air currents that resulted in the better portion of the passengers discovering religion.

The plane lurched, shook, swaggered and on several occasions we were treated to a stomach-in-the-throat free-falling sensation which resulted in screaming passengers and loud recitations of the Lord’s Prayer. The three of us (being good Catholic girls and all) managed to produce a rosary over which we clung to one another and half-screamed-half-prayed.

During bumpy flights it is typical for me to watch the flight attendants. If they are nonchalant I relax and try not to let the horrible in-flight movie kill my Wild Turkey buzz. I figure I'll reserve my panic for the occasion I see the flight crew soaked in a nervous sweat and strapping on parachutes. Unfortunately the turbulence was rough enough that the pilot cancelled all drink and meal services and ordered the attendants to their seats… thus leaving us passengers alone to draw our own conclusions regarding what seemed to be our inevitable demise. I would like to posit here that I do not blame Delta for our experience on that flight. Just the awful service we received on the ground.

Fortunately for all aboard, I have the amazing ability to hold an aircraft aloft by clinging to the arm-rest of my assigned seat. After a few passes over the Eastern seaboard, the pilot managed to locate a runway in Atlanta and put the bird down before our own and our fellow passenger's screams rendered everyone deaf. We then proceeded to wait at another gate for our connecting flight to Savannah for another two hours (totaling a five hour delay) before Delta informed all of us that our flight had been canceled due to lack of a flight crew.

That's right. Our flight was not canceled due to inclement weather nor mechanical problems. Delta had simply failed to schedule a crew to fly 150 of us from Atlanta to Savannah after merrily selling us tickets promising they would do so. Of course the gate agents could not resist playfully allowing us to sit around until after 1 AM before informing us they had no intention of delivering us to our destination.

Passengers were directed toward the Delta counter in the main terminal for re-booking. We joined a rivulet of people that soon became a throng of hundreds of would-be Delta passengers whose flights had also been canceled due to a lack of flight crews. It was an absolutely delightful crowd of displaced travelers who converged on the Delta counter at about 1:15 AM, which is when the real fun started.

Once in line we noticed that the crowd was composed primarily of members of the military, the majority of which were obviously on leave from Iraq (the DCUs and desert-issue boots were a dead giveaway). Surely, we whispered amongst ourselves, Delta will make special arrangements for these folks knowing that they have a finite amount of leave to spend with family and friends.

Didn't happen. On top of being laughably disorganized, Delta's employees are pinko commie bastards who obviously hate the USA, God, Mom and apple pie. I was impressed by the level of indifference with which the airline’s agents dismissed all of their customers, even the uniformed ones on leave from serving in Iraq.

Delta placed all of us on stand-by for flights the following day, then informed us that a) they would not be providing hotel rooms for any of us (we were invited to sleep in Hartsfield-Atlanta Airport) b) they would not be providing us vouchers for rental cars so that we could simply drive to our destinations (it was against their policy) and c) they would not be providing us refunds on our fares (this too was against their policy). After waiting in line for fucking ever we also found out that in addition to all this, Delta would refuse to relinquish our baggage to us as well, ensuring that nobody had so much as a toothbrush to get us through the night.

We were re-booked for a flight leaving at 9 PM the following night. We were not allowed to re-book for an earlier flight to Savannah despite the existence of two morning flights into the coastal town (they were already overbooked it was explained). My protests over being stranded for 24 hours in an airport 2,000 miles away from home were craftily ignored by the black-hearted ticket agent in front of me. Instead, she delivered a plasticky-strained smile before flippantly repeating that I was on stand-by for the 9 PM flight the following evening.

In the end we each had to forego the $298.40 (for a total of $895.20 in unrealized airfare) paid for connecting flights between Atlanta to Savannah, pay Avis $130 for a one-way rental to our destination, put out another chunk of change at a Wal-Mart in Macon (the only store open at that hour) for a change of clothes and basic toiletries, and plunk down $30 for a full tank of gas in the rental car before we commenced driving all night from Atlanta to Savannah.

At least we weren't alone. We waited in line at the Avis counter in Atlanta for an hour and a half while the staff there rented cars to a couple hundred of our fellow Delta casualties. We were lucky that there were three of us so that someone could simultaneously stand in another line for our baggage (as we were instructed to do before the same people then told us to fuck off by Delta's elite corps of customer service agents informed us that we would not be allowed to pick up our luggage as the airline was holding it for delivery to our respective destinations.)

The coup de grace was the fact that after spending five hours between 2:30 AM and 7:30AM on the road, we had to return to Savannah Airport the next morning to pick up our luggage... then wait another two hours when Delta failed to meet even that pathetic deadline.

The return trip was only slightly better. Delta imposed more staffing-related delays on all three of our return flights between Savannah and Atlanta, Atlanta and Salt Lake City, and Salt Lake City and Sacramento. This was before losing our luggage between Salt Lake City and Sacramento (which was delivered to each of our homes two days later after baggage handlers had finished using them as wheel chocks and ballistic missile targets.)

The three of us love to travel and welcome low fares. However, we ended up spending more money for a rental car, clothing, toiletries, and a lost evening at a hotel in Savannah that went unoccupied than if we had flown a higher quality carrier such as United or American.

Needless to say, we will NEVER fly Delta again. I think all of us were in agreement that we would sooner hitch a ride with a van full of serial killers armed to the teeth than allow ourselves to be ass-fucked by this company a second time.

...and yes, it wasn't with some small degree of smugness that we watched Delta declare bankruptcy several months after this bastard of a trip.

DRUNK DRAMA QUEEN SETS SAIL!

Well as many of you know, DDQ asked several people to be “guest-bloggers” during her absence. Myself, Amberthyme, Queen of Dysfuntion, and Jay, the Cynical Bastard.

So, please, let me introduce myself. I’m the Berserker Librarian, one of DDQ’s friends, and kind of an adopted family member, sort of like a “Coosin” which is similar to a cousin, but much more strange.

Drunk Drama Queen asked us to start Friday, so that she could see something before she left. Since it is getting close to midnight on Friday and no one has posted as of yet, I figured I would post a goodbye letter to her, and wish her well. I hope I am not stepping on anyone’s toes…

Drunk Drama Queen, where would we be without you? As your readers will soon discover, you are a woman of many faces. I know that we are all looking forward to sharing our favorite Drunk Drama Queen stories with everyone!

I hope you have a wonderful trip. And, as I told you before, if you meet a great looking guy on the ship, and he is single, and seems perfect for you… he’s gay. Or psychotic. I’m just sayin’!

As you go off on your voyage… I just want to let you know… I will miss ya. I hope you have a great time… and I am jealous as hell that I am stuck in Hellsville, California, while you are having a great vacation!!!

For those of you who are curious as to what DDQ is like in real life. God is she a sarcastic, vindictive, (yet sweet) witch!

In short she is my hero.

Drunk Drama Queen is one of those people who is wonderful to be around… and a total hoot to watch when she goes off on someone! Though, I have to admit, Drunk Drama Queen does sense when she is about to go off, and usually takes steps to prevent serious bodily damage to others… usually.

A few years back, DDQ and I were out miniature golfing with a friend of ours… lets call him Al. Unfortunately Al’s wife was working and could not make it. Which was a shame, because his wife is an awesome person, and a very good friend of mine as well as DDQ’s.. but I digress.

However, two of Al’s “friends” (read idiots who should be sterilized) did. They managed to track us down, and followed us all around the golf course. Lets call them, Josh and Alyssa. By the end of the evening, I realized Josh was pretty much brain dead, and Alyssa barely escaped bodily injury.

It turns out Alyssa knew DDQ in High School. Or, I should say knew of her. DDQ had no clue who this girl was, though the way Alyssa was talking, it made it sound like she and DDQ were almost conjoined lesbian twins or something.

As we are playing, and both Drunk Drama Queen and I are _very_ competitive, Alyssa starts twirling in some kind of retard dance on the golf course, and kicks DDQ’s golf ball away every time it neared the hole. Then she would giggle, like it was so cute. During this, her boyfriend, Josh, kept egging Alyssa on… and DDQ’s face was turning red. I think Josh thought this was funny.

Alyssa then came over and started trying to tickle DDQ as she retard-danced by us. The next thing I know I have claws thrust into my arm. DDQ’s claws. She started growling, like mama-bear who just found out that Goldilocks had just spit in her porridge. “Take my club. Take my fucking golf club."

I have to admit, I was a bit slow on the uptake. I grabbed the club just as DDQ started to use it to brain the annoying insect known as Alyssa. The club actually started swinging through the air before I caught it. DDQ turned and started dragging me away.. Fingernails still sunk into my arm.

I’m not kidding. She drew blood. DDQ apologized later for the damage.

We managed to leave, while I was trying to calm DDQ down, and DDQ was quietly telling me “I don’t want to kill her, really I don’t. I just want her unconscious.”

Soon after that, DDQ had me ordained by the Univeral Life Church... as a Christmas present. While I know she _says_ that she just wanted to give me something unusual, I am pretty sure she only had me ordained so I could try and get Alyssa damned for eternity. That is the kind of person DDQ is... she looks at the long road and the sees big picture.

I have to admit, that one of my favorite DDQ lines is…. “I don’t want to kill her, really I don’t. I just want her unconscious.”

Does anyone else out there have some fun, memorable, or just plain _wrong_ DDQ quotes they would like to share?

DDQ.. Have a good trip. Your blog is in great hands. Just have fun, be safe, get drunk… I know you will be around family, so drinking is mandatory, not an option… and take lots of pictures!

I am just sick and tired...

I originally wasn't going to post anymore until after my cruise.. but I feel a rant coming on...... no need to stand back..it's a small rant that's been bugging me all day...

Excuse me while I step onto this Soapbox..... (clears throat)

I heard about this on the radio this morning..
Poor little thing.. (sarcastic voice)
Life must be SOOO hard you have to ignore your BASIC HUMAN RESPONSIBILITY and not drive all looped up on COKE AND BOOZE.... What is it going to take? Her killing somebody in a car accident? Brandi (the recording artist) should go talk to her.. all though she wasn't all hyped up on Booze and coke, she did kill someone ...

WTF people??!!!!
I am so sick of hearing about Brittney, and Linsday, and Paris..
Try living like real people.. broke and ignored and see how shitty your life is before you start going all outta control.

WHERE IS THIS GIRLS MOTHER??
That woman is so focused on being Lindsay's friend she has NOT mothered her at all. She is in some kind of weird ass denial I have never even heard of before.....

Okay, stepping off of soapbox. End of Rant..

Cruise time! ALL ABOARD!!

Hello Kiddies,

Some of you caught on that I'll be going on a cruise soon........ very soon..... How soon, you may ask?
Well I leave for Puerto Rico this Friday.. and the ship sets sail this Sunday evening. I am going on a Caribbean Cruise with my family!! I am sooooooooo excited!!!!! Wade (The birthday boy from the below post) has graciously let me steal his wife to come along with me. We'll be gone for 7 days at sea.

7 days!!! Now don't fret. I have taken preparations and have asked some fellow bloggers to help me out while I am on vacation. A guest host blogger, if you will!
Some of them you know... hell, who am I kidding.. ALL of them you know...

Now ..there were a TON of people I could have asked. I wanted to ask everyone, Snogdot, Wade, Freddie- and everyone else on my links list..
but having EVERYONE write..there would be no one to read.. so I decided on three people who have known me the longest... PLUS someone I have never met (but one of these days we are going to.. I can feel it) but like his writing. Someone who is just as sick and twisted and outspoken as me..

So in a few days, you'll be reading postings from, Queen of Dysfuction, The Beserker Librarian, AmberThyme, and Jay-The Cynical Bastard!!!

I am partly excited and can't wait to read what they have to say...yet mostly terrified because (with the exception of Jay), they have tons of dirt on me and have seen me at my most stupid, most drunk, most childish, most tourrette's ridden, etc...

So enjoy... Whip out the popcorn, strap yourselves in.. you're in for a real treat!

I probably won't be checking this until after I get back.. but I promise to take lots of photos and I am going to TRY and do a Travel Journal so I'll have lots of stories to post.. if I am sober enough to write it all down.. hmmm... I am going to the home of the Pina Colada so I am NOT sure how sober I'll be!

I have never been on a cruise before. Out of the 8 of us going, (My brother, his wife, her parents, my parents, and Me the 7th wheel...and Ashley my saviour from family drama) I am the ONLY one that hasn't gone on a cruise before. The ship is Royal Caribbean's Adventure of the Seas..apparently it's HUGE. It has a miniature golf course, a Rock Climbing Wall, and an ICE SKATING RINK on it. It's your average floating city..

I created a countdown page for the cruise.. it has a small glitch in it and it's repeating some of the info.. but basically it's your basic countdown..
I created it for my family so we can figure out the time we have left before the ship set's sail....
You can check out the countdown HERE

So I'll have a drink for you guys and I leave on Friday. Not sure how much posting I'll be able to do.. but I will check in from time to time... plus I'll be able to read my daily hits of course.. there is always time for that.
Soooooo...taa taa (until I get back)
And Q1, Jay, Amber,Beserker.... don't trash me tooooooo badly.. LOL

Smooches kiddies!

Happy Burfday tooooo yoooou!

Everyone stop by Wade and say Happy Birthday!!

It's a biggie too... I don't want to snitch...
but it has a 4 and
a 0 in the number!!

He updates his blog less than I do... so make sure you tease him about that.. and tell him I sent you!

Happy Birthday to youoooooo
Happy Birthday to youooooooo
You look like a MONKEY!
That's it..

Hey Kiddies, Check out...

Please stop by the Beserker Librarian and make sure to say Hello! The BL and I go WAAAAAAY back. In fact, you have seen me talk about him before. He has the best customer service stories, and with his new blog, I hope he gets to tell you some of my favorites! I wonder if he'll tell of the time he stopped me from killing a young girl with a miniature golf putter. (I could have too... no one was looking, one crack to the back of the head..and we could have stuffed her into that windmill)

I have been a bad friend as of late,and haven't been able to go home and visit with him and catch up. Whenever I am in town, he makes time for me. We get to go out, drink A LOT and catch up. We are lucky that we get to pick up right where we left off most times... then we pop over to Amber's and I get to see my Godson.

BL and Amber have known me since I was 16/17 years old. It turns out, years before we met, our paths had all crossed. Once we discovered this, we became like family. We bonded pretty tight. Kinda makes you wonder about Destiny and Karma. Some of my very good friends, it turns out, I've met-before actually meeting them. ..if that makes sense.... I know, that no matter what happens in our lives, that we'll be there for one another and will drop everything and run to each other if one of us is in trouble. I've been pretty lucky that way. I've been blessed- I can also say the same about Q1 and her brother-Matthew, Steele, Bob-a-leh, Lillian,my RSP family, Shaleen and her husband Gregory, and of course I can't forget about Wade and his wife-Ashley.

Sorry for the Hallmark Card ramble-I've been in a mood lately. Kinda depressed about my romantic life- or LACK thereof- but on the other hand, suddenly aware of how lucky I am to have such wonderful friends ... I have drifted away from my main point- anyway BL has a new blog- visit him, read him,let him crack you up and please make sure to tell him his COOSIN misses him...

Friggen Mail!!!!

One day this week my mailbox received an enormous amount of junk mail and the postman put a notice saying that the post office has kidnapped my mail and are holding it for ransom. I have to go there and promise to turn over my first born son(if I ever have one) to get my mail back. I HATE my mailbox. It's one of those old fashioned ones from when Jesus had his mail delivered. It's only two inches wide and with all this FRIGGEN JUNK MAIL.. I have to tear my mail to shreds trying to get it out of that stupid hole..
Grrrrr
I need a house.
When I get back from the cruise I am going to get my finances in order.. this is ridiculous!

The Differences Between Men and Women

This was emailed to me- too good not to share

MEN & WOMEN : THE DIFFERENCES

NICKNAMES:

If Gloria, Suzanne, Debra and Michelle go out for lunch, they will call each other Gloria, Suzanne, Debra and Michelle. But if Mike, Phil, Rob and Jack go out for a brewsky, they will affectionately refer to each other as Fat Boy, Godzilla, Peanut-Head and Useless.

DINING OUT:

And when the check comes, Mike, Phil, Rob and Jack will each throw in $20 bills, even though it's only for $22.50. None of them will have anything smaller, and none will actually admit they want change back. When the girls get their check, out come the pocket calculators.

BATHROOMS:

A man has six items in his bathroom -- a toothbrush, shaving cream, razor, a bar of Dial soap, and a towel from the Holiday Inn. The average number of items in the typical woman's bathroom is 437. A man would not be able to identify most of these items.

GROCERIES:

A woman makes a list of things she needs and then goes out to the store and buys these things. A man waits till the only items left in his fridge are half a lime and a soda. Then he goes grocery shopping. He buys everything that looks good. By the time a man reaches the checkout counter, his cart is packed tighter than the Clampett's car on Beverly Hillbillies. Of course, this will not stop him from going to the 10-items-or-less lane.

SHOES:

When preparing for work, a woman will put on a Mondi wool suit, then slip on Reebok sneakers. She will carry her dress shoes in a plastic bag from Saks. When a woman gets to work, she will put on her dress shoes. Five minutes later, she will kick them off because her feet are under the desk. A man will wear the same pair of shoes all day.

CATS:

Women love cats. Men say they love cats, but when women aren't looking, men kick cats.

DRESSING UP:

A woman will dress up to: Go shopping, water the plants, empty the garbage, answer the phone, read a book, get the mail. A man will dress up for: weddings, funerals.

LAUNDRY:

Women do laundry every couple of days. A man will wear every article of clothing he owns, including his surgical pants that were hip about eight years ago, before he will do his laundry. When he is finally out of clothes, he will wear a dirty sweatshirt inside out, rent a U-Haul and take his mountain of clothes to the Laundromat. Men always expect to meet beautiful women at the Laundromat. This is a myth perpetuated by re-runs of old episodes of "Love, American Style."

OFFSPRING:

Ah, children. A woman knows all about her children. She knows about dentist appointments and soccer games and romances and best friends and favorite foods and secret fears and hopes and dreams. A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.