The Great Debaters

I'm sure most of you watched the debate, or at least those of you who aren't under the assumption that the presidency has already been decided because of skin color. But for those of you who did, I just wanted to point out some occurrences and observations that I found in each candidates approach.

During the debate, I noticed that, even after the moderator had encouraged the nominees to share thoughts and statements that we haven't already heard, Senator McCain still had difficulty doing so. Quite frankly, he sounded like a broken record most of the time which was disappointingly similar to what he's been trying to force feed the nation at his last few speeches. A good portion of his retorts were not only identical to what he'd thrown out in the last debate, but were also repeated even when the topic of conversation didn't warrant them. It almost seemed as though when he was asked to respond to a particular theme, that he would use the majority of his time saying something negative about Senator Obama, than actually pointing out major highlights of his own policy. Even after the topic of negativity in both campaigns had been addressed, and Obama emphasized the importance of using the time to more wisely discuss action, Senator McCain still couldn't refrain from keeping a negative standpoint.

I've also discerned, that after every criticism McCain had, Obama wouldn't give merit to his adversary's instigating remarks by firing back, but instead would not only quell accusations with factual accounts and intent, but would also refocus our attention on the topic at hand by outlining the differences in their policies and pointing out the reasons to implement each endeavor. I really enjoyed how Obama not only used attacks as opportunities to explain specific initiatives within his policy, but also how he eloquently would show how each politician's strategy was either similar or different in contrast. I also found it interesting that McCain not once, but three times made a comment about Obama being eloquent, as if that were a bad thing. Look, if you find someone who is intelligent, articulate, has the ability to answer multiple questions, and can explain intricate concepts of government in a clear fashion to be intimidating, then maybe you need to reconsider what it is your doing there. Let's be honest, being eloquent shouldn't be a reason not to vote for someone, but I think you should be weary of someone who thinks so. Ultimately, I think it will be refreshing to have someone in office that can represent our country without looking like a dribbling fool to its citizens and the rest of the world. Someone who can speak intelligently, take decisive action when needed, and wisely consider the things that warrant more thorough attention. Forgive me if I have a standard for who should be our leader. I'm extremely sorry if that person can put a sentence together. I apologize if they don't engage in childish antics. My sincerest regrets if they just happen to be engaging, focused, or God forbid . . . . . . . . . eloquent.

Another observation I had, that kind of goes back to McCain's approach to make aspersions and negative remarks is when the moderator asked what each senator thought about the other's running mate. When Obama answered the question he had nothing negative to say about Palin, (which could have easily been done on multiple levels), but instead spoke of how she would make a fine president. He even went a little overboard so far as to say that she was competent and highly intelligent. When answering the same question, McCain followed his singular compliment of Biden with a rhetoric of his supposed inadequacies and failed insights. How apropo senator, but certainly not unexpected. I think that Obama summed it up perfectly when he commented on how McCain's ads had more to say about McCain's character than who they aimed to slander.

My Best Friends Wedding

So, I've been recuperating for the past few days from a gluttonous 4 day eating and drinking binge with a bunch of feisty Cubans and even feistier Brits (they literally can drink like fishes). One of my closest buddies, La Cubana Gringa, got married over the weekend and I had the distinct pleasure of being the MC for the reception. I'm not entirely sure what she was thinking when she offered to give me free reign of a microphone after I would have undoubtedly been drinking, but luckily we were behind schedule throughout the night which didn't allow for too much extra commentary. Although I wasn't allotted any extra time to tell jokes, (I had prepared a few good ones) it was still smashing and I was deeply honored to have had the opportunity to be a part of the festivities.

I won't go into too much detail, (I proudly still remember them all) but the weekend's events started with the rehearsal dinner on Friday night, quickly followed by salsa lessons and dancing. The wedding and reception on Saturday, with pub hopping ensuing late into the night. An enormous BBQ on Sunday, and finally a wine tour through Sonoma Valley on Monday. Don't ask me how, but we managed to visit bars, watch movies, and even play games in between all the other events that had been expertly planned.

The two recurring themes throughout my entire visit, besides the wedding of course, were drinking and eating. Everywhere I went I had a beer in my hand and I ate more food than I really care to think about. Collectively, I've drank and eaten enough over the past 4 days to sustain a few Cambodian villages for a month. Although I usually do eat large quantities of food, I'm more of a social drinker and generally not accustomed to ravenous stints of alcoholic overindulgence (okay, okay, well at least not anymore). So, imbibing in such excess over any prolonged stretch usually requires a period of recovery. Needless to say, I had a difficult time at the gym this morning.

All in all, I had the most amazing time revisiting with old friends and making new ones. My British accent is not only spot on now, but I'll have a place to stay if I ever get the urge to put it to the test. The ceremony was so beautiful and unforgettably perfect that all subsequent weddings I attend will have a lot to live up to.

Varsity Blues

Hazing, Initiation, Busting Balls, or Popping Cherries . . . . Whatever you want to call it, apparently it even occurs in gourmet kitchens. Enjoy. . . .



Cheers!

Die Hard

As you all know, my favorite month of year is finally here. An entire month dedicated to one of God's greatest masterpieces. A month greater than the ones that celebrate the taking discovery of America, its independence, or the heritage of its citizens. An entire month in which I can shout from the rooftops, professing my undying love for breasts and not be thought mad. Okay, well maybe it's too late for that.

Anyway, instead of ranting about my reverence for boobs, or dazzling you with tales of my mammiferous adventures, I will instead tell you about a warrior that I met over the weekend. On Saturday, I worked on the best client I've ever had, hands down. Her skin was not smooth, youthful, or taught. Her muscles were not perfectly sculptured and toned from countless spinning classes or pilates. Her head was not adorned with long locks of flowing, vibrant hair. As a matter of fact, she was old and arthritic. Her skin hung loosely over her emaciated muscles and brittle frame. Her hair was thin and scarce, but her soul, her soul was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. Her smile was more glorious than a thousand sunsets, and her eyes sparkled like cascading waterfalls of diamonds. She may have stood no taller than 5 feet, but her heart was bigger than a mountain's.

This elderly client who slowly rose to greet me, smiled warmly as she shook my hand. Immediately I could sense her energy and calming presence. Her eyes glimmered like the ones from a person that has seen what so many seek. I led her to my room as she quietly shuffled behind me, fighting to walk as gracefully as her tired joints would allow. I was thankful that I was assigned the first room, because I wondered how long it would have taken had we needed to trek the entire distance of a hallway spanning twenty of them. During the massage, I was told a stupendous story of survival. A tale of many battles. A war of epic proportions. Therein, I discovered truly what people can be made of. This woman of 83 years of age, had joint crippling arthritis, a knee replaced (twice), brain surgery to implant a shunt with a microprocessor designed to drain the fluid in her brain that would assist her body in keeping its balance, (a procedure found necessary only after having fallen down a flight of stairs) and she had a double mastectomy to overcome breast cancer. To top this all off ladies and gentlemen, (yes there's more) some how, scar tissue left over from the surgery had become malignant due to the radiation treatments and maliciously attacked her lungs, from which, the doctor's had to remove a generous portion. Needless to say, her voice was a little raspy and her breathing labored and shallow.

However, her difficulty in breathing could not suppress her humor or wit. Her aches could not bind her will nor could her pains stifle her hope. She spoke so highly of all who cared after her. She knew the names of all her doctors and praised their skill and eagerness to help. She spoke of all her surgeries as a war general speaks of victorious battles. She shared her stories. I listened as though being told the location of the Holy Grail. She talked of how she now volunteers at the very hospital that so many of us would have never wanted to revisit. I was amazed.

When most people would have given up, she walked a treadmill. When most people would have cursed God, she hired a personal trainer to visit 3 times a week. When most of us would have refused to lift a finger, she lifted weights, and exercised in her pool. Without a six pack or a spear. Without a Spartan army, she kicked cancer's ass. Okay, maybe she didn't exactly kick cancer's ass, but she defeated a worthy adversary. An adversary that fights to the death and rarely loses. She's still here. Take that Gerard Butler.

An Inconvenient Truth

I don't claim to be a political expert on debate, but I have seen all the movies on this subject. And what I do expect from individuals who have agreed to debate, is to answer the moderators questions. None of this, "I want to talk about energy", bullshit. We've already heard what you wanted say about your energy plan, and unless you have anything to add, I would appreciate it if you would just stay on the topic at hand. Everyone knows you have wet dreams of long pipelines and enormous drills pounding the earth's surface until all it's natural resources have been depleted and our withering planet has been left vapid and incapable of sustaining life.

And please, for the love of Thomas Jefferson, stop smirking and smiling up there like you're Austin Powers and 'this sorta thing is your bag baby'. Every time you wink at the camera I throw up a little in my mouth. It's not endearing and quite frankly I think it's unprofessional. It's a tasteless tactic and by golly it makes you look stupid. (Well, so does thinking that just because you can throw a paper airplane into Russia's back yard that you're magically experienced in foreign policy) Those stupid elementary antics were not cute when Bush did them, and they are even less so when you do. This is a serious matter and just because you go around wielding words like "change", "maverick", and "oversights", that doesn't make you qualified for a position you clearly are unready for. Many Americans may not, but I see right through you. You were well coached prior to this debate, and you stayed within the parameters of your comfort zone. If you want to prove yourself, do your homework, take this shit seriously, and pretty please, with a fucking cherry on top, just answer the questions.

Another thing that really irritates me is at the end of the debate, is it necessary to have the entire family come up on stage and even more so for you to bounce and burp your baby for a few minutes of air time? You know, to make sure that everyone sees what a wonderful mother you are. Aawww look, the little one is toting the baby around, how cute is that? What's her name, Trinket? Cam Shaft? Spark Plug? No, I don't think so. This isn't show and tell, Mommy is at work. Keep those little ones at home or in the audience where they belong. We don't need you to continue flaunting them around like little shiny medallions of patriotism. All these behaviours only further confirm my suspicions that your selection was merely one of political strategy and that you're nothing more than a poster child for the campaign.



Ah, but what would I know.

Bank Job

I know, I know, you minions have waited long enough for the coveted Dumb ass of the week Award. It certainly has been a while since the award has been given out, and not for a lack of dumb asses I must say. Because let's be honest, this thing could practically have a two hour special on ABC and we still wouldn't have enough to go around. Between Congress, our cockamamie president, celebrities, Wall Street, and Clay Aiken (was that even necessary?), there are more than enough award recipients. Tempting as it might have been to hastily bestow this award on any one of the aforementioned nitwits, I think there is an organization that is even more deserving. Okay, so maybe not $700 billion dollar bailout kind of deserving, but equally so. . . . in principal.

And the award goes to, [overly dramatic digitally enhanced surround sound drum roll] the Federal Bureau of Investigation. That's right people, I'm calling out the Bureau. As this article explains, A Wells Fargo bank branch in California got robbed not once, but twice. In the same day. Three hours apart. And they were robbed by none other than the infamous "Chatty Bandit" and "Hard-Hat Bandit". The Chatty-bandit? Are you serious? This is the best nickname they can come up with for an outlaw that has robbed 9 banks at gunpoint without getting caught? Of all the distinguishable characteristics that are pertinent to the case, is this fugitive of the law properly summed up as chatty? I find it difficult to believe that with all the specific training they receive on profiling and studying the criminal mind, that chatty was deemed the most befitting description for this miscreant. And how the hell do they even know that? You would think that a bank robber that stood around for a long time making idle conversation with a bank teller would have been caught by now, no?

You! Fill this bag with money or I'll shoot you in the face! Yeah, so, I'm only really doing this because I'm considerably tired of these gas prices and I really wanted some excitement in my life. I just hope that my family understands when they see it on the news, because that would really be disheartening to not have them understand the amount of stress I'm under to make a better world. I would tell them at Aunt Jenny's BBQ next week, but at this rate, I may be entirely too busy to even show up. I mean really, 9 banks is a lot for only starting less than 6 months ago don't you think? I might have to hire a few assistants or even start a corporation. Does this mask make me look fat? So, how long have you worked here? Don't worry about what I said earlier about shooting you in the face, I really didn't mean that. I would totally like get you in the leg or something. Wow, what a beautiful necklace is that gold?

I'm sure that the FBI, in all their infinite investigative wisdom can conjure a more appropriate sobriquet for this bandit than chatty. Who the hell is in charge of making this shit up anyway? Johnson! Yes Captain. What do we have so far? Uh, well nothing so far sir, we're still interrogating all the witness. Anything concrete yet? Well, no sir, but we do have one teller that is exceptionally chatty, she just keeps ranting about . . . . . Johnson that's it. That's brilliant! The chatty-bandit! Excellent work Johnson, carry on.

Boiler Room

Top Ten clues that I'm going to have a difficult client:


1) They are checking e-mails or talking on their cell phone in the "Relaxation Room".
Seriously?


2) They are built like a Mac truck . . . . .
"Hey, anybody want my three o'clock? I think I'm getting a cramp!"

3) They have diarrhea of the mouth from the second I greet them. . . . .
Do NOT ear rape me. I don't get paid enough.


4) The first words the client says are, "My psychiatrist recommended. . . . ."
So, I guess getting rubbed with hot oil by a sexy man in a dark room whilst naked is suppose to help with that huh?

5) When they have more hair than Beyonce. . . . .
Don't act like you didn't know your crow's nest would get all up in my way. You better tie that shit up girl.


6) When they have more body hair than a Silver Back Gorilla. . . . .
For Pete's sake, get that shit waxed, or lasered. Damn ladies.


7) When they've self diagnosed injuries and refuse to see a doctor. . . . .
I hurt my lower back a few months ago and I think I have a bulging disc, or a herniated disc, or a pinched nerve. Uhuh, and what website told you this?


8) When they want me to fix them the same day they injured themselves. . . . .
"Yeah, I just fell off a ladder a few hours ago and can barely walk, think you can dig in there?" No dumbass, a massage will probably only make it worse, besides why don't you use this money for your co-pay?. . . . retard.


9) When they say, "Do I need to take my bra off?". . . . .
Well, no of course not. As a matter of fact why don't you just leave the whole fucking robe on. I'm sure it will feel crazy awesome.


10) When a client wants me to focus extra attention on more than just a few areas. . . . .
"Make sure you get my right shoulder, there are tons of knots in there. My left knee's been acting up and I sprained my left ankle a few weeks ago. The right side of my neck is a little messed up, I think I slept on it wrong. Oh, could you dig into my hamstrings, they're really tight. You know, my sciatica has really been acting up too. Don't touch my hair please I just got it done, but definitely save some time for my face. Oh my God, I almost forgot, I looooove getting my feet rubbed. By the way, I'm so sorry but I forgot to shave my legs. And one last thing, I've been playing a lot of tennis lately and my elbow's been giving me some problems. I think I have tennis elbow, but don't worry about that so much, I'd much prefer you get my lower back." Um, you do realize that this is a 50 minute massage right?