Please delete all records. Thank you.
Here is the actual martini (the evening’s first martini) of Suzette. It looks so harmless, doesn’t it?
Who among us has not been entertained and amused by Teddy K singing in Spanish? Jalisco! Jalisco! At one point, I thought I might have recognized the piece he was singing, but then…no.
He was just a few days too soon with that little number, though. If he waited, he could have belted out Hillary’s new Hispanic campaign song. I am not kidding when I tell you that I am positively obsessed with this after just one listen. You will be too. The full story complete with lyrics can be found at Wonkette.
Oh, pleeeeeze , Associated Press – please give me a photo of HRC onstage somewhere is Texas with Walter Suhr and the Mango Punch! playing this in the background. Wouldn’t you like to see her dancing around to the happy beat?
I’m not even making fun of this! I’m partial to Tejano music. This is too much pleasure for me. Listen:
Too bad her big yap has to open up at the end and endorse the message. Harsh!
UPDATE: Mi gentes! Obama’s got a Reggeton campaign song! El gigante!
This one is almost as good as the Optimum Online Triple Play commercial. Free advice to the Obama campaign people – try to buy 877 393 4-4-4-8 as the phone number to get people to volunteer/ donate/ whatever for your candidate. It can’t miss. And that disco whistle! I want this played at his Inaugural Ball.
Where is John McCain’s campaign song? Better get a move on, Johnny. How about some Champagne Music? Maybe the Lawrence Welk Orchestra is still together? Or you could prop up Huey Lewis and the News for a recording session.
I just know I won’t be able to work at all today because I just died and went to Campaign Song Heaven.
Here is your real fashion insight from last night’s debate: while I suspected that Obama had a trunk full of identical suits, I had no idea that he had multiples of the same tie. And Tim Russert got hold of one!
The guys are stylin’ in their bright blue ties while poor old Hill can think of no better idea than brown tweed. You know the whole campaign team is suffering from he same lack of energy and despair when glamorous Huma and even 28-year-old First “Child” Chelsea appear on stage after the debate dressed in more brown.
It’s a sad parade of mousey brown. Looking like a bunch of house sparrows flapping around in the dirt, there’s neither sparkle nor frill among them. In fact, Chelsea is completely unadorned – not even a tweed jacket – and as such is appropriately attired for a funeral, save for the hooker makeup. Is it just me or did she miss the mark with that blusher? Perhaps she’s cementing her reputation as a listener not a talker, by drawing attention to her ear. The Clinton bag of tricks is bottomless.
Another sign of diminishment is the normal-sized handbag Huma has neatly tucked under her arm. Oh, Huma! Gone are the days of the oversized tote, overflowing with schemes and dreams. Now Hillary’s future fits into a 7×10 inch half flap clutch. A brown one.
Speaking of tricks, HRC makes good on her promise to control her husband by sending him to a “rally” in the boonies to speak from the back of a pick-up truck (Silverado One) and then taking away the rusty oil drums so that he couldn’t climb down and horn in on the post-debate photo ops.
Ole Bill passes the time by repeatedly moving his red clown nose from his face to his microphone and back again.
Welcome to the heights of laziness, or perhaps the heights of repetition. From Our Department of "I’m a Hack!" – Saying this never gets old for me and strangely, never seems to spur improvement. Today we arrive at a new low in blogging as we present not just a repost, but a repost of a repost. Here’s a look at October 2003 through the blog goggles of September 2005:
Reflections On Reflections On Reflections
I was sitting here after a glass or two of wine, morosely recalling
my long-gone favorite perfume when I decided to Google the tag line
from the ad campaign that made me want to buy it in the first place.
And what should come up but my own words in the cached archives of my
third blog incarnation Traveling in Style?
Plus ca change, cheries, the more they stay the same.
Although there are some surprises, such as the earliest post in that
montly archive, reproduced here in its entirety:
Wednesday • 10.01.03
At one point, I was grasping the handrail in the ladies room so that I wouldn’t fall off the pot.
I think I saw a streetcar.
That’s all I know.
and a little jab at Larry King:
Wednesday • 10.08.03
Don’t You Have An Orange Stick?
watching Siegfreid Fischbacher on Larry King Live but it’s really Larry
that is the more fascinating thing to watch. The pointer and middle
finger of his right hand have something dark under the fingernails. It
looks very much like when the old guys in nursing homes check
themselves out and get their own poop stuck under the nails. Then no
one comes around to clean them up and it gets all crusty. Larry King.
Don’t fear the reaper.
For the most part, it is pretty much
same old, same old. Dieting, insomnia, Suzette comix, pros and cons of
getting a local office (did that really take two years?), driving on
the turnpike, karma, my husband the garbage pile commando (known then
as Mr. Coffee), QVC purchases, talk radio, puffy hair, business travel.
Gawd, I’m a hack!
Oh, wait – I was complaining then that I was a hack, too. Maybe I
should branch out into political opinions, or maybe tell the truth
about what goes on here once in a while? I’m not sure I have it in me.
This is all I am: fluff and a desperate attempt to make you smile
because I know I can’t make you laugh. If you’ve gotten this far, I
recommend that you read about that perfume:
Saturday • 10.25.03
I Feel Better Now
I went outside to let
the sun shine on my rods and cones and while I was out, I did a little
shopping. I am a fickle person who changes her mind in a very short
while about most things, however, I am very loyal to the first two
perfumes that I ever bought on my own.
During the same heady period that I
got my first job and my first apartment, I also got my first credit
card: Macy’s. This led in short order to cards from B. Altman,
Bloomingdales, Bonwit Teller and Saks. (Nothing like starting at the
top.) I can’t remember exactly where it was that I purchased my first
perfume but I know the reason that I chose this one was that I was
influenced by an advertisement on WQXR radio: "Everyone will ask you what you’re wearing." Infini by Caron.
Oh it was something – a cyrstal
bottle shaped like an infinity symbol. And the scent was very lovely -
romantic and flowery but not overpowering. The cost was something
outrageous because I went right for the Eau de Parfum and never
regretted it. I used the perfume sparingly and kept that same bottle
for many years , probably something like 15 years – the perfume itself
turned dark but the fragrance never changed.
Then one day my sister’s young
daughter got to all of my perfumes and mixed them all together, wasting
the perfume and ruining the finish on my bedroom furniture. That was
the end of the Infini. I haven’t ever seen it again.
The second perfume I ever bought was
Je Revien by Worth. I took it to Europe with me and wore it every day
for the entire 21 day vacation. I held onto that one, too and most of
it survived the Great Perfume Mixing Experiment.
It came in a round bottle with a
plain stopper and I used to apply it – flaunting convention – by holding
my finger over the opening and tipping it over and then rubbing my
fingers where I wanted it on my person. Unfortunately, I did this during
a spell of poison ivy and I guess the whole bottle got contaminated
because anytime I tried to wear it after that, I would break out into
itchy patches. I regretfully threw it away.
I always meant to replace these two
first loves, but got distracted by newer shinier scents and just never
got around to it.
Well, low and behold – today while I was out sunning myself I stopped
to cruise through T.J. Maxx and stopped to look over the sloppy shelf
where they jumble the fragrance boxes – what a gold mine! And right
there in front was Je Revien Eau de Toilet spray. OK, it wasn’t the
perfume, but it was right there in front of me and it was only 10
You’d better believe that I snapped
it right up and am right now sitting here typing this dressed in grey
sweat pants, a purple polo shirt and smelling like a tour of Europe.
I wish I could find the Infini. But I am made happy enough by this
lucky find today.
I may be a hack but I’m a hack that smells good.
Pop legend Prince is having a secret HIP REPLACEMENT at the age of just 49—after being crippled by years of sexy dancing.
More: Prince is JW? Who knew?
I’m not sure that his high-heel wearing can be implicated in this. After all, he wasn’t even wearing them to be taller: Regarding his shoe-habits, The Artist once declared: "People say I’m wearing heels because I’m short. I wear heels because the women like ‘em."