Good morning...again!

I slept on the couch last night and I didn't get much sleep at all. I don't know how I slept on that sucker for so long after Rick left. I'm used to bed sleeping now so I guess I need to stay off of the couch.

I woke up with bed head on the side of my head. I don't know what the heck I was doing in my sleep but I usually have to get laid (by a guy who could last more than 3 minutes) to have my hair this fucked up (no pun intended). The hair on the entire right side of my head is sticking up as though I was side banged.

Oh well. It could be worse...a brush will take care of that. Some people have problems that can't be taken care of that easily.

Before my head got all fucked up last night, I was watching TV and saw Natalee Holloway's mother on Greta Van Susteren's show. A few years back Greta raised eye brows (something she can't do now) when she showed up on her new show with a new face. She must have given her doctor's number to Beth Holloway because that woman looked completely different. I thought she was a rather nice looking woman before...and I'm NOT saying that because people keep telling me that I look like her! I just didn't see a reason for it but it's none of my business and it IS her face.

I just Googled Beth's name and I was right...she has had surgery. At least enough other people noticed it to write about it online. I certainly don't begrudge the woman a nip here or a tuck there...but didn't she recently take up a collection to help find Natalee?

You can't be the mother of a beautiful white woman who's gone missing without garnering a LOT of media attention...but how does that translate into a need for plastic surgery? Especially considering how young the woman is...she's only 46.

I read where Beth said that when she goes to Aruba, they don't treat her well because they think she's the one keeping people out of Aruba. She isn't keeping me out. I wouldn't go there if I had never heard of Beth Holloway. I would stay away for Natalee alone. I don't care how safe the place is, I don't care how beautiful the place is...I don't care how many charming men they have there to ply an American woman with drinks. I just won't go to a place where you have to depend upon the Keystone Cops for your safety.

I might change my mind if they arrest that little thug van der Sloot...but until they do...I think that all Americans should stay away from that close knit little island of rapists. I sure do hope that parents have stopped allowing their children to vacation in the Sexual Assault Sanctuary. At best they harbor sexual predators...at worst, murderers who have important fathers. American kids shouldn't be offered as bait for the horny assholes that feed on the beaches of Aruba.

But I digress.

I was talking about Jon Benet Ramsey's father's new girlfriend, Beth Holloway and her plastic surgery. But I'm bored with that. I feel old because I called Beth young. Only an old woman would call a 46 year old woman young. If that doesn't make me feel old...how about this:




I remember her on Laugh-in. That makes me old. The fact that SHE'S so old makes me feel old. When I bitch about the trash on television I feel old. My grandmother wasn't much older than I am when she walked into her kitchen to find me washing the dishes and listening to her radio. I didn't have her station on...I don't do hillbilly...I had what any other 15 year old would have on, the local top 40 station. The song that was playing when my grandmother walked in was Sunshine by Jonathon Edwards. It had a refrain with a "bad word" in it:

How much does it cost, I'll buy it
The time is all we've lost, I'll try it
But he can't even run his own life
I'll be damned if he'll run mine, Sunshine

That little tune made my sweet grandmother EXTREMELY angry. She snapped off the radio and mumbled a bunch of stuff about my choice in music. If she came back to life today she would have another stroke if she saw just one episode of South Park.

I don't bitch at South Park...I laugh at it. When I turn that show on, I know what I'm getting into. But I'm an adult and I can make that choice. I can turn the channel if there are children around. (And I would. I refused to let my kids watch Married With Children when they were little. They still tease me about that.) But if the kids are around and I turn on a family friendly program...I have no control over the commercials. A commercial for some lame sit-com can easily contain language that parents work very hard to keep out of the ears of youngsters.

I can't believe they allow foul language to assault us like that. And some people don't believe that the media is going out of their way to lower all of our standards. Consider this:

What do you think the Devil is going to look like if he's around? Nobody is going to be taken in if he has a long, red, pointy tail. No. I'm semi-serious here. He will look attractive and he will be nice and helpful and he will get a job where he influences a great God-fearing nation and he will never do an evil thing... he will just bit by little bit lower standards where they are important. Just coax along flash over substance... Just a tiny bit. And he will talk about all of us really being salesmen. And he'll get all the great women.

Well, now I've totally forgotten what I was talking about. Nobody will leave me alone. My sister keeps talking to me and my son wanted to check his email for "two minutes" that turned into a half an hour. If my sister walks in here and says one more word to me, I think I'll hit her in the head with a spatula.

Now I have to start all over again. Crap.