Underwear ASSessory

Stop the Presses...

Yes, my friends...

Check out the ACTUAL product description:

Package Details
5 Saving Graces
Discreet Antimicrobial Carbon Technology

Directions:
1. Peel off adhesive and stick Subtle Butt onto the inside of your underwear or pants, exactly where you think it goes.
2. Go for it, Let'er rip, Have at it, Cut loose, Break wind, Gas it up
3. When you're done wearing Subtle Butt, remove and discard. If any adhesive traces remain, use a damp cloth for removal.

Tips for Success:
You want all the gas to pass through Subtle Butt. So do what you need to do to ensure none sneaks around the edges.
Subtle Butt can be applied to thongs by wrapping and securing it around the back.

Thanks Kimberly!

Equal Opportunity Lip-locking...

Polychronopolis and I are in LOVE with Katy Perry...

He has a poster of her up in the studio, and I'm sitting here sending her fan-line a text at 3am...

We're professional dorks over this girl...

In fact...

I am sooooo geeked out that there is no creative spin to this story...

There is nothing metaphorical or witty or even mildly amusing about this blog...

This is the organic chemistry of blogs...
The nutritional facts on the box of bran flakes of blogs...
The warning label on your hairdryer about possible electrocution of blogs...

It is merely to inform you that I am, in fact, so infatuated with "One Of The Boys" that I am compelled toward redundancy...and repeating myself over and over and over again...and compulsively re-stating the facts...

Has the dead horse been properly beaten?
















Katy Perry's fan-line:
805-754-2138

"Uninvited," is the song of the day...

I am getting more mileage out of my razors...

Because I can't shave my entire left leg...

I can't shave my leg...

Because there is a spider in my apt.

I know there is a spider in my apt...

Because my left leg looks like this:

There's A Craken In My Fallopian Tube

A wise man, Peter Griffin, once said, "You can't spell Overreact without Ovary."

Just when I was about to exchange my uterus for something more useful...

Maybe an umbrella or a unicycle...

They both start with "U..."

Even trade?

I saw something that made my estrogen boil...









Hum...

A food item, shaped like a choking hazard.

What could possibly go wrong?

I'd Call Myself A Soccer Mom, But Earnest Doesn't Have Soccer Balls...or any for that matter...

Considering I don't have any ABC-knowledge-deficient individuals in my life, my opinions on anything kid-related are irrelevant.

But...

For all intents and purposes, Earnest is my child. I do have some sort of maternal (or cat-eranl) instinct.

For example...If Earnest took his clothes off and posed for Vanity Fair, I would be a little peeved...




















Although, I would allow him to express himself in a pair of soft, stiletto booties:

















The second I saw the adds for "Heelarious" booties for 0-6month olds, I smiled...

I said to myself, "Self...you no longer have to shop for baby shower gifts. You no longer have to wade in the sea of pregnant shoppers to select a fetus present. Point, click, and charge your way into a hip gift!"

But...

Then I mentioned the "Hip Gift," on the air...

The phone lines lit up...

Each green blinking light was an explosion of estrogen infused "Mommy Anger," labeled with an "H."

The "H" meant it was aimed at "Heather," and the bomb exploded through the studio speakers.

Team-Mommy spokes-women from across the land vocalized their outrage for another adult-themed product being marketed to kids.

So...

If you, like me, smiled when you saw the pink pair of soft-stiletto-booties pictured above...

Stifle your excitement for a moment...and consider whether or not the mommy-to-be you have in mind is packing.

Say, "No," To Pledge...

I'm the girl who scours salvage yards for old window panes secretly destined to become frames...

I'm the crazy chick standing in line at the fish counter seeking catfish tails to adorn a mirror...currently hanging in my apt. (Don't flip out...they're stink-sealed in plastic resin.)

I'm the one who has 20/10 vision, but can't see the lines because I've colored so far outside them...

But...

You know this about me...

While walking around the perimeter of the box this afternoon, I happened upon this guy:

This, my friends, is Scott Wade.

He etches his art onto dust-covered glass:

Ahhhh...I'm in love...

The Doppler Says, "Red"

It's 8pm...

Volatile Storms...

Boyscout Troop....

Hit....

Fatalities.


6 words...

More important than the millions I've spoken...

Cat-Zander

I think I should be the next Dina Lohan...

I have a fire-haired son named Earnest who has what it takes...

This has "JCPenny/Sears Wishbook" written ALL over it:

Yes...Friends...

That is the "Magnum."

On The Trail of #1231

I found this situation amusing for several reasons...

1. Could there be a (Mobile-Crime-Lab-Worthy) crime happening in this drive through???
2. Did the Mobile-Crime-Lab-Superstars find enough loose change in their forensic travels to afford an item from the dollar menu?
3. Does Omaha NEED a Mobile-Crime-Lab? They don't exactly seem busy...

In the midst of pondering these possibilities...

I realized I was actually snapping camera-phone pictures, from my car, in a drive through...

I said to myself...

"Self, I will justify the lame-ness of this situation by blogging about it."

Today Included A Quick Wardrobe Change...

Before you look down at Earnest in his sink and say, "Awwwwwww..."

Know that Earnest is a terrorist...


Picture it...

Old Market...

Today...

12:37pm....


















Earnest was survielling me from his porcelain bunker...

He was waiting for an ample amount of shower-steam to accumulate before attacking...

Jack Johnson was sending Earnest subliminal messages through my CD player...

My pants were neatly folded on the toilet...

I had no idea that the, "Sitting, Waiting, Wishing," pertained to Earnest urinating on my pants...

Until...

I was sitting here at work...

Wondering where the smell of Earnest's urine could possibly be coming from...

The BP Saved Me Again...

This is my tire:
















Looks like a tire...RIIIIIIGHT?



That's what I thought...



But this my friends....Is a tire with a screw in it...



Yes...



My tire was screwed...



I was screwed...



"Flat," is a 4 letter word in reference to tires, soda, lines, being broke and -ULENCE...

Dear Mr. Webster...Please add "Purgatorious" to your book of words...

I have often asserted that my life exists for you.

Yes, you...

I am as real as reality T.V. and as close as a dial on your radio...

I am at your service musically 25 hours per week...A mere seven digits and a dial tone away...

I am omnipresent online and nothing is off-limits...

This blog represents a moment in time...

I'm currently coasting through the purgatorious portion of my day...It's late...I'm off the air...It's technically Friday morning...For me it's still Thursday night...

My ex-boyfriend googled me...sent me an email (Which I posted for you below) and Liz Phair is providing the soundtrack for the remainder of my waking hours...


"Safe on the interstate
New York is three thousand miles away
And I'm not looking forward to following through
But it's better than always running back into you
I've closed my eyes and my bank account
And gone west, young man
Take off the parking brake
Go coasting into a different state
And I'm not looking forward to missing you
But I must have something better to do..."
LIZ PHAIR


Hey,
Not sure if I have emailed you before/recently, I may have while drunk. If so, and this is redundant, sorry. Just wanted to write and see how you were doing. It's been awhile, we did not part on good terms at all (a road entirely of my own paving, I know), and I guess I am curious about how you are doing. I've been in NYC three years now doing nothing overly interesting, just the usual. Freeland writing, more graduate school (in biology this time). Working half-heartedly on a novel. I googled you, so I thought I would drop you a line. I wouldn't blame you for thiking I am an awful person, or for not thinking anything of me at all. To be honest I havn't really cared what anyone thinks of me for most of my life. However, we were friends at one time, and you were one of the only people I have ever known that presented me with any kind of an intellectual challenge, so I guess I am just curious about how you are doing...and, I miss you in some way, just in general I guess...trying to think of anything else interesting about me...nothing comes to mind. Starting a doctorate next year, probably at Emory, so it's back to Atlanta for me. Although I applied to Cambridge, but I seriously doubt I have any chance of getting in. Sorry to ramble, and I am sorry for how I treated you. Write me back if you want, and let me know how you are doing...looks as though things are good for you and I am very glad!
Best,
A***

Rainbows and Kittens...

I spent most of yesterday sleeping off my travel hangover...

I woke up around 7pm because Earnest jumped on my face...

I guess somewhere in the, "How To Be An Orange Cat Handbook," there is a chapter on severe weather.

In case of storm:

Jump on Heather's face...Meow until she wakes up...Demand a treat...

If she does not comply:

Cite "Lassie Vs. Timmy..."

Argue that she could have been trapped in a well for days without your help.

I was happy to be awake when I saw this:

I didn't notice a size difference...

I mistakenly put Earnest in charge of this blog.

Allow me to tell you something about Earnest...

Earnest is what we'll call a "Freeloader."

He has little respect for the value of a dollar.

He doesn't understand the words, "Work" or "Responsibility."

Earnest spent the past 72 hours lapping Perrier in the lap of luxury:

Guess who will be forced choke down tap water for the next 72 hours...

Anyway...

Austin rocked.

I spent an evening watching a couple friends say, "I do..." then chased the joy with some live jazz on 6th street.

Headed to Austin...

Leaving on a jet plane...

Earnest is in charge until Monday...

So...I Spoke At Career Day...

Although heralded as the "Friends-To-Phone," when confronted with state capital quandaries and inquiries involving the inedible type of pie... The intellectual wizards of the 5th grade are still little kids...
I'd forgotten that the 4ft. tall members of society see the world through a spaghetti-O tainted kaleidoscope...

Little kids have interesting, "Kid-type," questions.

Such as:
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"Do you want to buy your own radio station one day?"
"Have you met Sol-ja-boi?"

Friends...

I have to admit...

The following events were occurring, in no particular order, the last time I had more than an hour of interaction with an under 18-er:

1. Sofia's goldenly girly voice was intro-ing stories with, "Picture it..."
2. I was striking a pose on each and every Cadillac...with pride. That is the Bangles way.
3. I was wearing 2 pairs of socks...different colors...slouched...with a coordinating, over-sized, cuffed t-shirt and stirrup pants...


It was the 80's...and I was a kid too.


But...


Career Day 2008 was fun...

Not because I know how to inspire the next generation with stories of risk & reward or hard work & dedication...

Because...

I used to be a kid too...

You Know You Want To...

Come on...

Jump on the bandwagon with me.

It's a magical place, replete with 10 tracks of ear-candy.

And yes...

That is a "Q," on my fingernail.

1998 Lives On...

The countdown is on!

Sex and The City...

May 30th...

17 more days...

As promo shots are being released and excitement begins to climax...

I'm happy to say that through the power of airbrushing and flattering camera angles...

It will be 1998...

FOREVER ;-)

Yes my friends,

All 8 pictures were shot recently.................................

The ones one the right are air-brushed...

God Bless America...

If you'd stepped into my mind WITHOUT a road-map...

I thought about deleting the incoherent mess-of-a-blog below...

However, I decided to let it remain.

For 48 hours my mind had the consistency of a scrambled egg drenched in Tabasco sauce. My car was broken and I'm convinced the reasoning portion of my brain was locked in the glove-box.
For 2 days I couldn't locate the answers to the most pedestrian of questions...

Carl (The car whisperer at the BP service station): "What's your phone number?"

Heather: "Um...404...no wait...402...that's Omaha right? (Nervous laughter) I'm sorry...402...68102...wait..."

I am now back to my normal level of dysfunction...

Rock on...

;-)

I Have 10,000 Spoons...

And yes, my friends, all I need is a knife.

Despite the no-smoking sign...

My car took a break...

It's like rain...

A bad radiator hose day...


If you haven't heard, my car is broken.

&

The word of the day is:

Irony.

But...

You knew that already. You're hip to the Alanis-speak.

It's too bad "Cute," isn't spelled with a "Q."

Football season is drawing near and I anticipate the explosion of red into my daily landscape.

As game days approach, all varieties of designer garb will be sentenced to live in the darkness of closets across our Husker nation. The Coach bag will be on hiatus, as the elite proudly sport their Husker handbags...

Much like Husker fans, I enjoy sporting logo.

I recently acquired this:

Yes my friends, I am all Q...All the time ;-)

Even Earnest enjoys showing his dedication to his favorite station:

I Blame Technology..

I blame technology for the high divorce rate...
In 2008, it's really easy to maintain an extra-curricular relationship.

Think about it...

1. Cell phones and text:

Before the advent of mobile communication, landlines could be monitored. Husbands/wives were forced to communicate with mistresses/pool boys via home or office lines...Which was highly inconvenient.

2. Myspace and Facebook:

Ex-lovers send each other friend requests in a lame attempt to be friends. It doesn't take a viewing of When Harry Met Sally to know this is an impossibility.

3. Email:

Discreet. Ubiquitous. Delete-able...

4. Pornography:

Everything you think you desire/Everything your partner is lacking...Just a click away...

5. Dating sites:

Displaying alternatives 24/7. When "For sicker/For poorer/For Fatter" occurs, IMHOT4MARRIEDMEN is ready to pounce.

6. Blogs

To Be Continued...

Grrrrr...Cont.

While the western world was wrestling with whether or not Hannah Montana should wear clothes...

I was busy loosing my religion...

I'm sure REM and every other iconic band betrayed by Rolling Stone was feeling the same...

I almost cried when I saw the peroxide explosion of MTV's leftovers vomitously* spewn across the cover of RS.

(Okay...I'm exaggerating...but seriously...WTF?!!)

I recognize the significance of reality TV, and have certainly been compelled to send my mind on a 50 minute vacation...

Congealing
into
a
gelatinous
lump
that
would
make
a
couch
potato
look
like
a
fitness
model....

But...

When I feel like I'm dangerously close to drowning in the collagen implants and silicone enhancements...I can pick up a RS, and cleanse myself of all parasitic tendencies...

Shame on you Rolling Stone...

For exalting what we all know is crap...



*This is not a word...Yet, it suits my purposes...

If Only Bill Cosby Hadn't Started Rapping...

This doesn't bother me:

This, however, makes me ill:

I'm too frustrated

to

t

y

p

e

.

.

.

More later...

My Appedendix Is As Useless As A Tractor In The Living Room...

I'm not sure about the existence of Santa Claus...

Unicorns are a great idea, but unlikely...

Completely monogamous relationships are impossible; pending a universal handbook outlining the exact definition of cheating...

The "Make It Pretty Gene," however, exists.

I know...

I have one...

I think it's somewhere inside my uterus.

Not because I'm a chick...

Many guys also have the, "Make It Pretty Gene."

But...

If my uterus does NOT contain my, "Make It Pretty Gene," then my uterus is as useful as my appendix...

For example:

Amidst a cyclone of other activities, I engage myself in art projects.

Most of these require very little artistic ability.

Many are designed to help disguise something necessary but unappealing...

Weekend projects:

The Thermostat Is Ugly.

The desire to put something pretty over this blemish on my wall has been haunting me for at least 10 months...

So...

I got a shadow box and slapped some cool stuff on it:

I've also been annoyed with an off-center lighting fixture on my wall...

(The "Before," picture is too heinous to post.)

The cover-up is achieved with a couple of random grates, an old mirror and a Spill Canvas poster:

Someday, my "Make It Pretty Gene" will prevail and my apt. will be perfect.

Until then...

I have paint, sandpaper, metallic glaze, gold-leaf, adhesive of all types, hooks, nails, anchors, various tools to install the hooks & nails & anchors, and an orange cat to assist in my mission.

Gavin Degraw

Gavin Degraw isn't the hottest or buff-est or sexiest artist I have ever met...But...He is the most attractive.

If you were at Muldoon's last night...you already knew that.

If you weren't there or you're not into guys...allow me to explain...

Gavin Degraw will give you the, "Flirty Eyes."

I'm sure every swooning victim, suffering from Flirty Eye-ed Syndrome, would like to believe the "Flirty-Eye-Love-You" laser was aimed only at them...

It wasn't...

Gavin gave equal portions of interest and attention to each of his fans...

If you were there...you're nodding your head...

As I type this, I'm smiling to myself...

It was a good night ;-)

The Fiance'e Formerly Known As Friend

Between April and October, I feel like I have a second job:

"Professional Wedding Guest..."

Don't be fooled friends, it's not all champagne toasts and garter Olympics...

To truly be a Professional Wedding Guest, you must accept the following:

1. You may have to sacrifice all 14 days of yearly vacation in order to maintain EOA (Equal Opportunity Attendance.)

2. You must constantly tell yourself, "Walk away from the shoes...You need that hundred bucks in your pocket as a wedding gift for the new Mr. and Mrs. Shoe-Budget-Blaster-Hoof it in last year's model-Stein..."

3. You absolutely have to be prepared to answer questions about your own relationship...or lack of one.

For example:

When someone asks, "So when is this going to be you two?!"

You look at your date contemptuously while channelling the wrath of Lorena Bobbit and say, "Ask Him."

You''ll find this puts an end to the Q&A session.

After/During the reception:

You must study up on the latest trends. If Bride-Zilla has turned into Wife-Zilla because her wedding wasn't the fairytale-princess-romp she envisioned...You, as the Professional Wedding Guest, must point her toward post-wedding-activities that will distract her from Post-Wedding-Depression.

1. Suggest personalized stamps for her thank-you-cards, featuring a wedding or Honeymoon photo.

http://www.photostamp.com/

2. Suggest she, "Trash The Dress." (A photo or video shoot centered around dress demolition.)

Think of this as Methadone. Your friend is addicted to planning. She can again select a photographer, location, date, time, and theme in which to destroy her gown. Symbolically it also marks THE END.

Tax

Things I could NOT deduct for 2007:

My plan for 2008:

What I may be doing before 6pm...

A wise person once said, "You can pick your friends. You can pick your nose. You cannot pick your friend's nose."

However...

If you have some bullet-proof, studio glass handy...it's safe:

Tax Day 2008

Once upon a time...

When I wasn't in radio...

I was working for "The Man..."

"The Man," had a file cabinet in our office:

Don't worry friends...

The benefit drawer is now brimming...

Q98.5 rocks and all that jazz...

In fact, if you scroll down to my 12-14-07 entry, you'll notice a work related expense I will attempt to deduct.

Here's a clue:

In love with a Barista ;-)

There are serious benefits to paying $4.85 for an Iced Quad Venti Non-fat Latte:

*It says,

"Heather like a feather."