But I digress, I have decided - having called the Edwards report - to create a just asking pool. Check out today's column (below) and let me know who you think they're talking about? I'll make a note of it and, down the line if it turns out you're right, I'll give you a cyber shout out. Who knows, there may even be prizes involved. So hit me with your best shot:
Monday, November 10, 2008
Just Asking...
One of my favorite guilty pleasures is the New York Post's seminal column, Page Six. Alongside all the delicious dish, they run blind items under the heading "Just Asking". It was a blind item about a politician who was spending a lot of time in New York that first busted John Edwards for his ongoing affair, and ruined his chances, not only for the Presidency, but also for a cabinet post. Who cheats on his terminally Ill wife?
But I digress, I have decided - having called the Edwards report - to create a just asking pool. Check out today's column (below) and let me know who you think they're talking about? I'll make a note of it and, down the line if it turns out you're right, I'll give you a cyber shout out. Who knows, there may even be prizes involved. So hit me with your best shot:
But I digress, I have decided - having called the Edwards report - to create a just asking pool. Check out today's column (below) and let me know who you think they're talking about? I'll make a note of it and, down the line if it turns out you're right, I'll give you a cyber shout out. Who knows, there may even be prizes involved. So hit me with your best shot:
Saturday, November 8, 2008
It's official - I've seen everything
Joey B and I are up very early this morning because we are shopping for furniture today - my new place is a little sparse at the moment. In lieu of springing into action we got roped into watching a nature show. During a commercial break I was astounded to see a dog wearing a slutty outfit, raising it's derriere towards the camera. I immediately turned to Joey B and said, "I have to blog about this!"
Yes, Ragers, we are now about to be inundated with small toy dogs wearing Eurotrash outfits, replete with lots of "bling" a la "bratz" phenom. These little creatures are from a toy company called, "Tini Puppini". (Click here to see the official website).
In doing a little research, I get the sense that these skanky dogs are going to be the "gotta have it" item for the holiday season. You've been warned.
As many of you know, I have no compunctions about dressing up dogs in coats, Halloween costumes, etc. My own dog, Soleil, is featured prominently as a model for barker & meowsky and has even had her modeling photos appear on Martha Stewart, but I have to say this is entirely different. These toys have all the patent panting horniness of Heidi Montag or Tila Tequila - why not buy little Suzie a "Betty Blowjob" action figure, (Now with crack pipe and spitting action - Order now!).
Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but when did a painted up tart (even a furry one) become the perfect toy for a child? Take my advice, if you see this dog just keep walking. That bitch hangs out at the free clinic.
Yes, Ragers, we are now about to be inundated with small toy dogs wearing Eurotrash outfits, replete with lots of "bling" a la "bratz" phenom. These little creatures are from a toy company called, "Tini Puppini". (Click here to see the official website).
In doing a little research, I get the sense that these skanky dogs are going to be the "gotta have it" item for the holiday season. You've been warned.
As many of you know, I have no compunctions about dressing up dogs in coats, Halloween costumes, etc. My own dog, Soleil, is featured prominently as a model for barker & meowsky and has even had her modeling photos appear on Martha Stewart, but I have to say this is entirely different. These toys have all the patent panting horniness of Heidi Montag or Tila Tequila - why not buy little Suzie a "Betty Blowjob" action figure, (Now with crack pipe and spitting action - Order now!).
Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but when did a painted up tart (even a furry one) become the perfect toy for a child? Take my advice, if you see this dog just keep walking. That bitch hangs out at the free clinic.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Palin: I'm Sorry
It has been 2 days since the people of America voted overwhelmingly for change and so, it was about time for those who had supported McCain's candidacy to start laying blame. First and foremost, FOX News.
All I can say is that the "Straight Talk Express" was a bus, and now they are throwing Governor Palin under it.
This seems incerdibly sexist to me. What do you think? Comment below.
All I can say is that the "Straight Talk Express" was a bus, and now they are throwing Governor Palin under it.
This seems incerdibly sexist to me. What do you think? Comment below.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Merci
I am working on a holiday campaign about the power of individuals to, not only give gifts to their loved ones, but also to grant their wishes. Part of this campaign has involved soliciting peoples "Wishtories" (a hybrid of Wish Story + History). The touching stories have moved me and have inspired me to share with you a woman who took the time to write to a young boy who dreamed of being a writer.
As a child I attended a french school by the name of École St Antoine in Niagara Falls, Ontario. I was a rambunctious and (to be completely honest) hyper-active child but, put a book in my hands, and I would sit quietly for hours - engrossed. I had an inate sense of the order of words. I remember, when first learning about the many rhyming schemes in poetry how something just clicked - it all made sense to me.
Throughout my years at St Antoine my essays, stories and poetry were occasionally recognized with prizes and I, a ham to the core, would often be called upon to read at assemblies in front of the school and once, as the winner of a province wide poetry contest, at an educators convention in Toronto. I remember that I wore my favorite yellow cable knit sweater (it was the eighties!) and that I wasn't even nervous. A photo, snapped of me that day as I read, still resides in my parents study. Years later, when I began experiencing stage fright, I looked back in amazement at this young boy who stood alone on a stage, in front of a darkened crowd, in a massive auditorium, and spoke the words with a confidence - almost a nonchalance - that I would never be able to recreate. My confidence came from a certainty that this is what I was meant to do. I knew for certain that this was my path because a very kind woman, a writer that I came to respect and admire, had told me that it was possible, maybe even probable. That woman was Jocelyne Villeneuve.
When I was in the fourth grade (Grade 4 for Canadian readers) I told my teacher, Madame Naccarato, that I wanted to be a writer. She, in turn, told me of her cousin - who was a writer and poet - and suggested that, if I wanted, I could write a letter to find out more about writing, and she would pass it along. This small suggestion made all the difference. Shortly thereafter, having delivered my first letter for Jocelyne, I began a correspondence that lasted for years. Jocelyne encouraged me to imagine, she encouraged me to try many different styles until I found my voice but, most of all, she always spoke to me as an equal.
It wasn't until my adolescence that I learned of her debilitating illness, nor the car accident that had left her bound to a wheelchair in 1967. It wasn't until my adulthood I learned of her passion for haiku, nor that she was, in many ways, its most prominent Canadian champion. It was difficult for me to align the woman of my adulthood with the correspondence of my youth. Her letters were so positive, her poems so transcendent - I had no idea of the difficulties she had experienced because she had not made them important. That was my greatest lesson.
The world lost Jocelyne 10 years ago but I had lost her about 5 before that. Wrapped up in my life, like any teenager, I lost touch with her. Even years after we had stopped exchanging letters, I would still get a Christmas card from her every December. I was lucky to have known her and am heart sick that I never got the chance to thank her properly for everything that she had given to me. So, thank you Jocelyne, for reaching out to a child you never met, and changing his life.
Haiku for Jocelyne - 11/04/08
Autumn day, so warm
that I leave my coat at home
and walk in the leaves
As a child I attended a french school by the name of École St Antoine in Niagara Falls, Ontario. I was a rambunctious and (to be completely honest) hyper-active child but, put a book in my hands, and I would sit quietly for hours - engrossed. I had an inate sense of the order of words. I remember, when first learning about the many rhyming schemes in poetry how something just clicked - it all made sense to me.
Throughout my years at St Antoine my essays, stories and poetry were occasionally recognized with prizes and I, a ham to the core, would often be called upon to read at assemblies in front of the school and once, as the winner of a province wide poetry contest, at an educators convention in Toronto. I remember that I wore my favorite yellow cable knit sweater (it was the eighties!) and that I wasn't even nervous. A photo, snapped of me that day as I read, still resides in my parents study. Years later, when I began experiencing stage fright, I looked back in amazement at this young boy who stood alone on a stage, in front of a darkened crowd, in a massive auditorium, and spoke the words with a confidence - almost a nonchalance - that I would never be able to recreate. My confidence came from a certainty that this is what I was meant to do. I knew for certain that this was my path because a very kind woman, a writer that I came to respect and admire, had told me that it was possible, maybe even probable. That woman was Jocelyne Villeneuve.
When I was in the fourth grade (Grade 4 for Canadian readers) I told my teacher, Madame Naccarato, that I wanted to be a writer. She, in turn, told me of her cousin - who was a writer and poet - and suggested that, if I wanted, I could write a letter to find out more about writing, and she would pass it along. This small suggestion made all the difference. Shortly thereafter, having delivered my first letter for Jocelyne, I began a correspondence that lasted for years. Jocelyne encouraged me to imagine, she encouraged me to try many different styles until I found my voice but, most of all, she always spoke to me as an equal.
It wasn't until my adolescence that I learned of her debilitating illness, nor the car accident that had left her bound to a wheelchair in 1967. It wasn't until my adulthood I learned of her passion for haiku, nor that she was, in many ways, its most prominent Canadian champion. It was difficult for me to align the woman of my adulthood with the correspondence of my youth. Her letters were so positive, her poems so transcendent - I had no idea of the difficulties she had experienced because she had not made them important. That was my greatest lesson.
The world lost Jocelyne 10 years ago but I had lost her about 5 before that. Wrapped up in my life, like any teenager, I lost touch with her. Even years after we had stopped exchanging letters, I would still get a Christmas card from her every December. I was lucky to have known her and am heart sick that I never got the chance to thank her properly for everything that she had given to me. So, thank you Jocelyne, for reaching out to a child you never met, and changing his life.
Haiku for Jocelyne - 11/04/08
Autumn day, so warm
that I leave my coat at home
and walk in the leaves
Jocelyne Villeneuve
(1941-1998)
Author
Perhaps better known for her writing of French-language stories, poetry and journalism, Jocelyne Villeneuve was nonetheless no stranger to publishing in English. She lived in Sudbury, where she was a champion of Franco-Ontarian culture. Wheel-chair confined as a result of illness and a car accident in 1967, the former librarian worked for many years as a freelance writer.
CLICK HERE to browse Jocelyne Villeneuve's work.
Notice biographique: Jocelyne Villeneuve (1941-1998) est née à Val d’Or, Québec et a vécu en Ontario de 1953 jusqu’à sa mort. Elle a poursuivi ses études primaires à l’École Saint-Jean et son secondaire au Collège Notre-Dame à Sudbury. Elle a aussi étudié à l’Université Laurentienne et à l’Université d’Ottawa. Elle détient deux baccalauréats de l’Université Laurentienne, l’un en économie (1962) et l’autre avec spécialisation en littérature française (1973). En 1964, elle a obtenu un baccalauréat en bibliothéconomie de l’Université d’Ottawa.
En 1964, elle a travaillé comme bibliothécaire et chef de département au service des acquisitions de la bibliothèque à l’Université Laurentienne. À la suite d’un accident de voiture en 1967 et aussi dû à des problèmes de santé, elle opte pour la littérature et le métier d’écrivaine. Des gestes seront posés a paru aux Éditions Prise de Parole en 1977, ceci représente un premier roman de la plume de cette auteur franco-ontarienne qui a vu publier un bon nombre de ses articles et poèmes, contes et nouvelles. Un recueil de contes pour enfants intitulé Contes des quatre saisons a paru aux Éditions Héritage (1978), ainsi qu’un recueil de contes pour adultes intitulé Le Coffre (1979) aux Éditions Prise de Parole. La version française de deux légendes, Nanna Bijou: Le géant endormi (1983) et La Princesse à la mante verte (1983). La version anglaise de Nanna Bijou: The Sleeping Giant a paru chez Penumbra Press. Deux recueils de poésie ont aussi paru aux Éditions Naaman: La saison des papillons (1980) et Feuilles volantes (1985). Le livre Ménagerie (1985) qui a paru aux Éditions des plaines du Manitoba, sa neuvième publication littéraire rassemble cinq contes mettant en vedette des animaux. De plus, “Les feux Saint-Elme” a paru dans Rauque (Revue de création) en 1985. Un récit poétique Terre des Songes (1986) et Le geai bleu et le papillon (1992) ont paru chez les Éditions du Vermillion. En 1987, Contes de Noël est publié par les Éditions des Plaines et en 1988 Greenmantle a paru chez Penumbra Press, ainsi que Marigolds in Snow (1993).
Jocelyne Villeneuve est décédée le 8 mai 1998, à Sudbury.
Reader Rage
I have just gotten a "Trans-Atlantic Smack Down" from my brother about the infrequency of my postings. I plead no contest because, despite the fact that I just moved into a new place, and am working long, long hours, it's not as though I never have time to jot down a few lines.
I am trying to find a way to work the blogging into my daily life, and Joey B and I came up with a greatly monthly column idea over the weekend... but more on that later.
Stay tuned for a posting later on today about someone who helped to inspire me. It's a posting I've been working on for a while. To Ianovich, and all readers, I apologize for my wayward ways. I assure you that I will do my best to post a little something every day. Remember, rage is always a click away.
I am trying to find a way to work the blogging into my daily life, and Joey B and I came up with a greatly monthly column idea over the weekend... but more on that later.
Stay tuned for a posting later on today about someone who helped to inspire me. It's a posting I've been working on for a while. To Ianovich, and all readers, I apologize for my wayward ways. I assure you that I will do my best to post a little something every day. Remember, rage is always a click away.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Punched Up Pumpkin
I opened my email this morning to discover this lovely little gem courtesy of Liv. Hope it makes your Monday better.
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