My Sister is Gonna Be On Oprah!

So, my awesome sister Beth does volunteer work with the non-profit organization Main Line Animal Rescue. The organization's founder Bill Smith, who won the ASPCA lifetime achievement award in 2007, recently went on a crusade to get Oprah to do a show on puppy mills (since she's always bibbedy-blabbing about her dogs and such) by erecting a billboard outside of Harpo Studios pleading for her cooperation. Well, it worked and Friday's show will feature Smith, as well as pre-taped segments from the MLAR facility which Beth will more than likely be appearing in. Anyway, despite my excitement over the sis being on TV, it's a really good cause, so check it out. I'm breaking my lifelong streak of "never having voluntarily watched an Oprah" to do so.

Oh yeah, and Oprah is dedicating the show to her dead cocker spaniel. Oh, fuck you Oprah. But anyway, still watch.

My 10 Favorite Things About the Rocky's Pizza Menu:

(Click to enlarge)

1. Where the celebrities go for their pizza? False!

2. Okay, so maybe some "celebrities" have been there, on occasion, for PR or photo ops or whathaveit. But I've never even heard of Reno Mahe. He must be like one of those football players who only plays when someone important gets hurt.

3. Yeah! Make me a pizza, bitch!

4. Italian stereotypes = awesome.

5. I can't put my finger on why a movie about a sweaty, beat-to-shit boxer inspired Italian cuisine. But clearly someone thought it was a good idea.

6. They're not even "Oley Famous." One step at a time, Rocky's Pizza.

7. This is a picture of Philadelphia. Because they're practically located in Philly -- you know, give or take 50 miles.

8. Okay, this is a pretty sweet deal. I'll give them that.

9. (On back of menu) The "Yo Adrian" pizza contains ground beef, bacon, cheddar, hot sauce, jalepenos, ranch and mozzarella. This sounds disgusting. I don't think Judge Dredd would eat this pizza, much less somebody training for athletic competition.

10. Fuhgettaboudit!! Still awesome!

Open Letter to People Who Bring Kids to Wineries:

Fuck you. No really, fuck you. Oh, and your kids are jerks.

Oh, Puke.

When the Mister and I built out house, we did bamboo hardwood floors throughout the entire place, except for the master bedroom, which we decked out in wall-to-wall, speckled white berber carpeting. We've been moved in since mid-October, and I've been biding my time. I knew it was only a matter of when one of my wonderful little barfbag puke monsters would unload a steaming pile of half-digested kibble on our beloved carpet. And that day finally has come. I was getting ready for work, blow-drying my hair with the Violent Femmes blasting, and didn't even hear the preliminary hurl noises. Instead, when I finally peeked out of the master bath, I saw my Australian Shepherd, Sophie, guiltily cowering over a fricking enormous pile of brownish-pink vomit in a pool of yellow liquid, already saturated into the carpet. That's always fun to see when you're trying to get out the door in the morning. But anyway, for whatever reason it's so far never even occurred to me to purchase carpet stain cleaner. Suggestions, anyone?

Good Gravy

About a year ago, I blogged about cutting a friend loose. In the initial post I didn't get into specifics, but in the comments section I elaborated the following, to try to give some insight into the situation:

Me: I'm building a house! From scratch. Mr. Salted and I designed it ourselves, and we're really excited and proud of it.

Her: Well, let me tell you for the 40th time about my fabulous apartment! It's totally better than your house because it's within walking distance to the mall! Which is better than the mall near you, by the way.

Me: I live down a backroad, on a private wooded lot, I don't even like malls and I do all my shopping online.

Her: Yeah. It has, like, 200 more stores than your mall. You would love it. By the way, would you like to hear again how much money my boyfriend makes? Next week I'm probably going to dump him for a nightclub security guard, but when I take him back again because he misses me so much, I'll have to make sure I update you on his salary when that time comes.

So imagine my complete and utter shock -- shock!! -- to find out that this friend (which, update: dumping unsuccessful!) exists in Saturday Day Night Live recurring character form. Wow. Just, wow. This is pretty much her, to a T. Not even really an exaggeration. Can you imagine why I'd ever want out of this?

Search Engine Fun!

Like Dan and John, I decided to give you guys a glimpse into what draws people to my little corner on the internets, despite that I barely have time to keep up with it anymore. I'm not making any of this up whatsoever:

cartoon mouse fucking cheese
audio of timothy treadwell and his girlfriend being eaten by bears
stinking happy time
power rangers incest
bret michaels going bald pictures
american gladiator theme song
i hate everything syndrome
ghostbusters molester scene
mother and i fucking in the swimming pool
Dustin Diamond dildo
skinniest feet
lickey boom boom down
fucking girls even though you have warts on your feet
pedigree dog food commercial: too sexy
johnny damon talks weird

Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus: Best of Both Worlds

Oh, yes. I did. Click here for the review.

I Hate Everything

My hometown of Phoenixville, PA has seen a ton of economic growth in the past five years or so, mostly unsurprising and inevitable for a suburb outside of Philadelphia. Some of it's been bad, as in the strip malls which are popping up left and right, and some good -- as in the historic downtown area seeing a complete restoration and resurgence.

However, the fate of two landmarks: the Vale-Rio diner and the historic Fountain Inn, have been hanging in the balance for some time now. There were rumors the properties were going to be sold to developers, protests and town meetings to address such rumors, zoning issues, etc. But it looks like the diner and bar/restaurant are finally closing their doors to make way for a -- wait for it -- Starfucks and Walgreens.

Although I don't live in Phoenixville anymore the Fountain Inn (a.k.a the Lazy Dog Saloon) is my favorite watering hole when I go back to visit friends. They fill your wine all the way to the top of the oversized wine glass and it costs like three dollars. (And sometimes if you're really lucky, there'll even be a dead body in the parking lot!) Not to mention the diner which was a staple growing up, and also featured in the camp horror movie The Blob.

The whole thing just makes me really sad. And frustrated. And powerless. The diner, especially, is kind of like the heart of the town, and means so much to so many. The level of greed and callousness is just mind boggling. And this is exactly why I live out in the country, and plan on moving further out if development warrants.

Bleh. Sorry for the depressing post. I promise, more funny next time.