Rapier's Wit

Somethings I know to be true. This is one of them: Women check out other women. In this photo, I believe Sophia Loren is checking out the bedangling breasticles of Jane Mansfield or some other heart break of a story platinum blonde from Hollywood gone by. We can't help it. I have a heapin' helping of the mamms and I still look at the protuberances on other women. I don't envy their size. However, I might give a discreet eye roll to those I can detect are enhanced. Or, I might wearily wish my girls could remain 'way up firm and high.' Ten months of breast feeding Man-cub took a toll on Thelma and Louise. Because I don't have glorious gams I tend to gaze upon women who do have legs worth celebrating. My legs are long. To quote Steve Urkel, "she has legs that go alllll the way to the floor." Seriously, I do have long legs. Sadly, genetics cursed me with hefty thighs, knobby, fat knees and calves that would better suit a ham hock. Shorts are demonic fashio...

The most recent Stuck in the 80s podcast is my inspiration for the above photos. I can't take full credit for their discovery. Myspace friend Ebonyeyez had these posted in her photo albums. I just couldn't resist snagging them and using them for my own purpose. She has fantastic finds tucked away in her photo albums. If you haven't checked out the Stuck in the 80s blog and podcast I have to ask. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR? You can download it from the blog or find it on iTunes. It's not hard and I promise that you'll laugh until you snort. This week, Sean Daly discusses an incredibly embarrassing moment when he goes to the doctor to have his man junk checked out. For Sean, it's not unusual for him to talk about personal things on the podcast. Like, when his Forever Fiancee gave birth to their second daughter. However, this adventure gives the listener insight to a whole new side of the adorable SIT80s co-host and music critic of the St. Pete Times. Ho...

Guess who's bored!? Moi. So, I ventured over to that pesky site known as blogthings.com. Blast them for this minor, probably short lived addiction! I'm not really familiar with this cat: Who Should Paint You: Alfred Gockel All American yet funky, you inspire an artist's imagination And while not everyone will understand your portrait, you will! What Artist Should Paint Your Portrait? I'm not really sure how this came about. I've been told I'm a classic, but never classical. You Are Classical Music You are a somewhat serious person who enjoys studying subjects deeply. Art of all kinds interests you, and a good piece of art can really effect you emotionally. You are inspired by human achievement, and you appreciate work that takes years to accomplish. For you, the finer things in life are not about snobbery - they're about quality. What Kind of Music Are You? Aha! Something I can agree with (even though I don't really like S'mores) You Are Smores Un...

This is such exciting and fantastical news that I have to shout it out to the world. Well, at least the half a dozen or so folks who read this blog. A bra that didn't fit me 3 months ago is gently cradling my bosom as I type this. Thelma and Louise aren't trying to escape from the bottom, top or sides of the cups. I am absolutely delighted. I'm jumping for joy! And look, ma! My tits didn't flop out!

People often ask me my opinion on things. Depending on my mood, it could be a serious dissertation on the subject matter flung my way or some smart assed, one liner that leaves my audience wondering if I'm serious or drunk. Here are some examples of the latter. These are Rissisms or meandering thoughts I'll call Rissology: * While talking to a small group of people (the subject matter I can't recall), one of the doctors says, "You know, what Marissa calls me." without a beat I reply, "Bitch?" * "Be who you is" * On men: "You can't live with 'em, and you can't bury a hole deep enough not to get caught." * Regarding a chubby co-worker's inability to wear shirts that fit. Me: " are you really that broke ?" Her: "What do you mean?" Me: " You couldn't afford the other half of that shirt ?" * Eat one cookie now; or, eat the entire bag when no one is looking. * There is a right way to replace...

Per the norm, I'm a day late and a dollar short. This is something I noticed while visiting my favorite shopping site Amazon.com. I think it was Sunday when I was downloading music and I had to chuckle that American Idol 7 front-runner David Cook's digital album was outselling the shriekfest of Mariah Carey. Despite all the advertising for Carey's new E=MC2, AI's resident rocker (and now balladier) was outselling Carey. Funny. A heart kicked an ass. WOOT! So, I have to plead for the reasons why this was done. I've been reading numerous blogs written by AI and David Cook devotees and I have yet to uncover the justification. Tons of speculation, but nothing clear cut. Brooke White and Carly Smithson have digital CDs for sale as of right now. Their tunes have not been pulled. They, of course, were not in the number one position on Amazon's MP3s. Conspiracy? American Idol producers chafed they weren't raking in on the deal? Mariah's people didn't like se...

People Envy Your Compassion Aw, shucks! You have a kind heart and an unusual empathy for all living creatures. You tend to absorb others' happiness and pain. People envy your compassion, and more importantly, the connections it helps you build. And compassionate as you are, you feel for them. What Do People Envy About You? You Should Be a Joke Writer Well, I do love to snark You're totally hilarious, and you can find the humor in any situation. Whether you're spouting off zingers, comebacks, or jokes about life... You usually can keep a crowd laughing, and you have plenty of material. You have the makings of a great comedian - or comedic writer. What Type of Writer Should You Be? You Are 20% Weirdo I've been called worse Your thinking is so in line with the mainstream, it's pretty freaky. Have you ever considered running for political office? You're so normal, people can't help but feel comfortable with you! Are You A Weirdo? You Are Ani Difranco! I can to...

I'm the youngest daughter of eight children. There are two additional boys via father's second marriage post madre's passing. Confused? Don't be. The only thing in consideration for this ramble is this fact: There are five daughters in my clan. I am the youngest. I am the only brunette, green eyed girl. The elder four are beautiful blondes with blue eyes. You'd think I'd be a stand out based on aesthetics alone. However, from this girly's point of view, I was lost in a sea of confusion. I'll give you a quick synopsis of why I felt overshadowed in an already hectic household. Martha: The eldest daughter. The ground breaker, rule shaker. Tall, thin, blonde, blue eyed, flirty, had the world by the balls. Before I could develop memories of her living at home she was off to college and traveling the world. My recollection of her is the excitement that fluttered about the house when she'd be making a return. She was the one who had the boyfriends and excit...

I was in funkytown when I got home from work. It happens. I allow myself a little time to wallow. Then, it's time to move forward with a better outlook. I haven't been in a funk like that in quite awhile. Maybe it's my early 40s hormones. Maybe life just bitch slaps me from time to time and, instead of bobbing and weaving, I take it. I let it smack me in the kisser with nothing but a welt to prove it. Well, I screamed (to myself) I gotta get outta this place!! I ate a healthy salad and checked out Amazon.com for free downloads. New music always gives me a lift. FREE new music makes me a scant happier. Here's the flavor of happiness for me on this night. I dare your foot to not set to tappin'.

I have a side of me that isn't fully aware that it's evil. My inner demon has not reached maximum development. However, the thoughts run rampant of what I would do if the little devil within reached full growth. It boggles my mind. On the surface I am mild-mannered Marissa. That ever smiling woman who would be likely to give someone her last dime or the shirt off her back. Underneath it all I often long to rip someone to shreds. That someone is me. I get so irritated that I let small things get to me. I get angry that I'm nauseatingly gullible and, without a doubt, ignorant about human nature. Something else that undoubtedly irks me about me is how easily I am swayed by flattery. Ugh! Foolish girl. I talk myself into being assertive; then, turn around and slap myself silly for being too outspoken. I, for the record, blame no one else but myself for my fate. Chances are that while I'm giving myself a good mental lashing, those that I feel I offended have ...

I love Spring. The trees are budding. The flowering bushes are blossoming. It's gloriously gorgeous! Buds are on the lilac trees. I'm so thrilled. I love opening the windows and letting their fragrance permeate my home. The downside of springtime is having open windows in the wee hours of the morning and the chirping birds awaken before my alarm is set to go off at 6:00 a.m. What's worse is this happening to the Man-cub. " The stupid chirping birds kept me up all night. " If it's dark; it's night. " Actually, they only started chirping as the sun began to rise. You'll be fine ." The reason I look forward to winter breaks and summer is that I don't have to get the kid up for school. He's not cantankerous in the morning, but, like most teens, he doesn't get enough sleep. School starts at 7:40 a.m. Sending him to bed at 8:00 p.m. is just not practical. Studies have been done recently on the issues teens, namely high s...

I am such a goober for not remembering where I found this photo. I'm sure it was on Flicker. Kimberly Madsen Art & Design is the artiste. It's her favorite t-shirt peeking out from a black jacket. It find it totally bitchin' and need to snag the Holly Golightly vintage shirt. It's supremo delectable. This Consumer Report photo was found while perusing Google Images. The copyright information is at the bottom of the photo. Who thought CR could produce a framable piece of art? Hunter S. Thompson. You know, writer of " Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas ." Then, made into a movie starring Johnny Depp. This is a totally righteous colorized version of a black and white. Again, I have no idea on who's flicker account I found this gem . I was seeking out Vegas goodies. With any luck, I'll get there this summer. Granted, it won't be nearly as trippy and dangerous as that depicted in the above mentioned book. I am, however, reading it for inspiratio...

My son and I live a relatively normal existence. Each school day his alarm goes off at 6:15 a.m. and he promptly jumps up to shut it off. He then returns to bed and attempts to ignore the sunlight drifting through his window. During that time I have already removed myself from slumber, put a pot off coffee on and started my ritual online. I can hear him moving overhead. He's not fooling anyone. Without fail, I will have to groggily head upstairs to rustle him. In this morning tradition I remind him of the time like a nagging mother should. He keeps plugging along and our conversations are kept minimal. The same thing goes for when he calls me at work after school. He's home safely and is only interested in catching the latest Naruto or Yu-Gi-OH! episode. Talking to me doesn't hold a candle to the Cartoon Network . I remind him that any homework is to be done once a snack is consumed. He's pretty diligent about following this rule. By the time I get home his work is do...

I speak of the artist known as Willis. She's amazing. The first time I heard her haunting sounds was, oddly, while watching CSI: Las Vegas. Lab technician Hodges is awaiting test results from some forensic doohickey machine and he dances to a creative cover of Cameo 's " Word Up!" Willis' version will not put you into a hyper dance groove. Instead, you'll be entranced by the coolness of her take on the once quick paced tune. Taken from her Myspace page bio: HAVING GROWN UP IN WEST LONDON ON A DIET OF ELVIS PRESLEY, HOLLYWOOD MUSICALS, NURSERY RHYMES AND COUNTRY MUSIC, A FORTUNATE INABILITY TO REMEMBER OTHER PEOPLES LYRICS FORCED WILLIS INTO WRITING HER OWN SONGS. THOUGH HUGELY INFLUENCED BY FEMALE AMERICAN ARTISTS LIKE BARBRA STREISAND, ELLA FITZGERALD AND BRENDA LEE, SHE BEGAN SINGING TRADITIONAL IRISH FOLK SONGS BEFORE DISCOVERING 1970S AMERICANA, VIA NEIL YOUNG AND THE BAND, DURING THE 90S. A SIX YEAR SPELL WORKING AT THE ECLECTIC LONDON STORE, SOUL JAZZ ...

My luck turned a corner for good. Kristy Lee Cook ? Not so much. Her luck turned down a dark path known as elimination alley. She overstayed her welcome on American Idol 7 . In my opinion she should have been long gone, but she tugged on America's heartstrings and earned a bonified membership to the country club. However, even with all the folk in West Virginia dialing until their fingers were down to nubs, it wasn't enough. She's the latest casualty on AI7. Good riddance! This happens to mark the first night I was correct about the bottom three. I've been putting Kristy Lee as my personal mark for elimination for weeks now. I finally got it right. With this minor run of luck I'm going to buy a Lotto ticket and start planning my trip to Vegas. Had she not been eliminated tonight I was seriously considering hiring a voodoo priestess to help me out. I have a couple other uses for such a person. Perhaps she'd give me a 3 for 1 deal.

Today I was fortunate enough to be released early from the prison which I refer to as work. The weather is absolutely sublime. I can't tell you how delighted I was to hear the words, "Do you want to call it a day?" DO I!?! The temperature is somewhere around 70-gorgeous degrees. For the Midwestern wicked winter we've had, that's a heat wave. And everybody was snatching up the opportunity it bask in it before the cold snap heading our way from the Northwest beats us up for a few more days. The wind was brisk, but I figure on a power walk that just adds a touch of resistance. I got home around 1:15. Naturally, I felt compelled to check out my two favorite blogs before lacing up my sneakers and hitting the trail. Exciting news about Deborah "she'll cut you if you call her Debbie" Gibson is gracing the podcast studio of Stuck in the 80s tomorrow. I can just imagine the puddles of drool and sweat that'll stain the floor and memory of Ms. Gibson. Eesh...

I have a staple of blogs that I read daily. They often give me inspiration or fill a social void in my life. As I sat here at my own domain, I was strapped for something to write about. I censor myself greatly as I know many of my regular readers. This blog is inching toward 5000 hits. I realize that isn't 5000 individuals, but someone out in the blogosphere is taking in some of the words that I put to pc. With that being said, I am fully aware that family members, friends and co-workers read my meandering thoughts ... even if it's a quick perusal at most. Hence, self censoring. Do I really want my brothers and sisters to receive full disclosure? Not yet. I'm only 42. HA! I guess they'd get over it since it is just the past. And it was part of my late bloomer rebellious phase. I'm reminded that confessing my sins of the past is quite cathartic and, at times, hilarious. When tales are retold they seem to take on a lighter tone. This sort of thing happeend last...

On Sunday afternoon you couldn't find me at home. I was no where near my computer or television. I was sitting in a friend's living room listening to live music. I sat next to one of my oldest and dearest friends. Along with us was a double handful of women and men who appreciated the artist who was gracious enough to let us bask in her humbly fantastic sense of humor and songwriting. Her name? Martine Locke . The best way I can describe her is an Aussie Indigo Girls minus one. Armed with nothing but her wit and two guitars she entertained us with 2 sets. One song in particular, " Fall From Grace," left me in tears. It was a moment that took me by surprise. I wasn't aware how emotionally taken I was until a lone tear found itself meandering down my left cheek. I didn't dare look around to see who else might have been drawn in by the powerful lyric and melody. Fortunately, I had a napkin sitting on my plate that had once been covered with veggies, cheese and ...

It's clear that I'm not fully over the shock of Michael Johns being oddly and suspiciously ousted too soon. Color me a conspiracy theorist on this one. Where's my evidence? I don't need no stinkin' evidence. He's too good to hit the bricks before the pathetic country crooneress Kristy Lee, and far more thrilling and exciting than the dull Brooke White. Regardless, my Roo won't be performing on Idol as a competitor. I just look at this as the faster pace to making his own music with greater control over what goes into his piece of work. This interview will give anyone who hasn't had enough of Michael some morsels to aleviate the fixation ... just a little. Part One: Michael Johns on AI Extra Pt 1 by mjsbigblog Part Two Michael Johns on AI Extra Pt 2 by mjsbigblog

It's done. It's over. I can't believe it. I'm in shock. My 'Roo. My darling Aussie with the bluesy, sensual charm is no longer on American Idol. I'm pissed. I'm miffed. I'm in need of CPR. I need tequila. I need something to help me grasp this totally insane result night. Idiot Kristy Lee Cook continues, but Michael Johns is cast off like Daughtry in season 5. America: You vote like you .. well, vote. I can't believe it. My Roo is gone. On Idol nights I spend the evening snarking with friends from the blogosphere on Sean Daly's Pop Life blog. You can join in, too. It's quite refreshing and cathartic. Tonight, my pals all knew how this would devastate me. In response they offered support and sympathy. Most profoundly expressed was that of Jeff in Cuba. Here is his out-reach for my plight: I'd like to interrupt the snark for my own "Idol Gives Back" message. Hi, I'm Jeff in Cuba. Each year thousands of Midwestern single mother...

This performance left me emotionally drained. I sat numb after seeing and hearing the brilliance that is Annie Lennox. This is a performer. This is how you sing a song. Simplicity, spectacular, soulful.

Carrie Underwood sang this song tonight on American Idol: Idol Gives Back. I am not a CU fan whatsoever. So, I had to cleanse my palate and get the master; the original. Ladies and Gentleman, George Michael. - Praying For Time - These are the days of the open hand They will not be the last Look around now These are the days of the beggars and the choosers This is the year of the hungry man Whose place is in the past Hand in hand with ignorance And legitimate excuses The rich declare themselves poor And most of us are not sure If we have too much But we'll take our chances 'Cause God's stopped keeping score I guess somewhere along the way He must have let us all out to play Turned his back and all God's children Crept out the back door And it's hard to love, there's so much to hate Hanging on to hope When there is no hope to speak of And the wounded skies above say it's much too late Well maybe we should all be praying for time These are the days of the empt...

I really didn't come away from the performances this evening feeling inspired to do anything other than buy earplugs and drink more while watching Idol. I realize the kids were rushed due to pre-taping for the BIG IDOL GIVE. Oh wait! It's IDOL GIVES BACK. I was confusing it with Oprah's Big Give schtick. Michael "ROO" Johns needs to stop with the ascots. It's my guess that he's been sneaking away with his chemically enhanced bleached blond wife and she's left her own version of ink on his neck. Chicks might not vote for him if they feel he's really gettin' it on with the wife. Bleah. Anyway, I was diggin' on his Aerosmith "Dream On" squealing. Of course, he was slightly drowned out by my own squealing. Do I have recollection of other performances? Oh yeah, Jason Castro wasn't showstopping phenomenal, but I do love the Hawaiian Isles version of "Over the Rainbow." His low key persona is true to form. He didn't see...

There is a mystery that shrouds the Tampa Bay, Florida based band, " Oh, Hush!" Only their close friends, family and manager knows what they look like, who they are, how old they are ... but their fans don't seem to let that get in the way of loving the one thing that is apparent: talent. They want to be recognized by their songs. Wow! What a concept, eh? I received a myspace invite to check them out. Upon first click I fell in love. I may be one of their oldest fans. They take the time to personally answer as many emails and comments as they can. The primary myspace techie in the band claims over 200 personal responses a day. I give him/her kudos for taking the time to devote to fans. If you're interested in viewing and listening to them, you can click the obvious link over the right. They have a humor about themselves that endeared them to me beyond the music. I look forward to the release of their upcoming cd.

It's early and Man-cub is still snug in his bed. I often Google search images to find something unique for later use with my blog. This image struck me and I had to share. No sense in waiting for something to write about that will fit the photo. The artist has her stuff on Flicker. Nina's Photos is where you want to go for further viewing of her cool stuff.

That's what I've heard these last two days from co-workers. No, I am not pregnant. That would be a feat of immaculate-esque conception. Apparently eating well, getting enough sleep and exercising has, indeed, had an outward effect on my appearance. It's also been noted that I look thinner. YAY! Today I wore a shirt and jacket that I haven't been able to wear due to sizing issues. The shirt is one of those v-neck lines with an empire waist. You'd think it would overly accentuate Thelma and Louise, but it doesn't. The jacket is a short, buttoned blazer. I got it buttoned and it the seams weren't screaming for mercy. Miraculously, my pants also appear longer. Funny how less flab on the fanny will do that to trousers. The weather in Kankakee was so beautiful and picturesque. Not a cloud was to be spied and I had to work. Fortunately, the days are longer and I was released from the work prison an hour early. I made tracks for home. On the way home I called Man-cu...

You know how it is when you hear a song and you want everybody and their brother to know about it. You love it; they should love it. This tune I am about to present to you is that song for me. After energetically burning my Sauconys on the walking path, I turned to my regular MP3s. My Amazon.com freebie gems. This song got me through squats and stretches.

OK, so Flock of Seagulls didn't quite sing it that way. I take pleasure in granting myself poetic license to alter lyrics to suit me at whim. If you've been reading my meandering thoughts put in blog form, you'll know that I've embarked upon a lifestyle challenge. I am trying to lose weight via changing the way I think about food and exercise. It's ridiculous for me to commit suicide in a slow manner. When you think about it, that's what gaining an excessive amount of weight exhibits. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't "SLOTH" one of the Seven Deadly Sins? I could be taking the suggestion out on the ledge, but by not exercising the very body--temple-- that God has given me, I am abusing His love. I have been taking advantage of the gift of life. With that in consideration, I found new incentive to persevere even though the weight doesn't seem to be falling off my posterior in the manner I had hoped. Return to focus: Health for the long term...