Haute Flash Contessa

Rants, ramblings, raves of a woman who blames everything from road rage to undercooked pork chops on a hormone imbalance.

Friday, May 13, 2005

First Come The Red Hats, Then Kazoos

Instructions for the Big Guy are clear: if I even reach for a red hat to put on my soon-to-be fifty-year-old head, shoot me. Then and there, put me out of my misery and release the kids from the burden of claiming me as their mother.

I’ve got an addendum: if anyone else tries to do to me what some twit in Houston did to a group of elderly women on an outing to the park, shoot them. No, hang ‘em. Some idiot – probably a twenty-two-year-old public relations grad in her first job as an activities director at the retirement home – came up with a fantastic photo opp for the Houston Chronicle. Take five elderly women from assisted living, line them up in their wheelchairs, wrap their necks in Texas-style bandanas and top their heads with matching baseball hats. Then perch giant clown glasses on their noses - huge glasses that nearly cover their petite, age-withered faces.

Oh yeah, I nearly forgot. Stick a kazoo in each of their mouths and tell them to cheer on joggers. Then call the newspaper; they’ll probably put the photo on the front-page just as the Chronicle did.

I’m betting the Chronicle doesn’t win any AARP awards this year.

Saturday, May 07, 2005

Happy Mother's Day

The Big Guy gave me my Mother's Day gift early. Ten yards of mulch. Earthy, black, manuerish mulch.

At least it wasn't delivered by the neighborhood Pamela Anderson.

Just wait until Father's Day. He's gonna love his full-body massage and sea weed wrap from Bruno.

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