Another Red Carpet . . .

Hi You!
Another red carpet night, Oscars.  This a la animal get-up from a few years back is still my favorite:

Do you remember this?  Isn't that Bjork?

Meanwhile in the USA, panic alerts are flashing for certain USA shopping malls.  Malls?  Really?  I just don't get the idiocy of these small "t" terrorists.  I hate to even type the word.    Fearful of popping up in a security screening of internet chat.

Cold in the nation, even sweeping down to area code 305!  Come, warmth . . . come soon.

Leaving you now to contemplate the swan dress.

Kisses -
The J

Recruitment, political party style . . .

Hi you!

This day's latest slaughter of brothers and sisters by ISIS leaves me weak.  What planet am I on?  The sea runs red with blood . . .

Meanwhile in our USA, something from Buzzfeed caught my attention.  Armando Perez, A.K.A. Pitbull (my fandom is adolescent-like crystal clear in this blog) is being recruited by the Republicans!

Ah, Armando . . .
  But as quoted in that Buzzy piece, he is not so easily signed on to political gang membership:

"I’m not here to be part of any political party,” Pitbull said in a statement. “I’m here to bring political parties to my party because they can’t, they won’t they never will, stop the Pitbull party, Dale!”

Dale indeed, darling.

I am thinking La Casa Blanca for Pitbull himself.  At least, the Party party would go on, refusing to bow to sadistic, pleasure hating a-holes who slaughter by the sea for Sunday fun.   Can't touch this/us?

The split-mind continues, considering all that, and I shall carry on:  Composition classes to enjoy manana and the weird escapism of Downton Abbey tonight. 

Yes, carry on.
Kisses & DALE -
Joyce

Post-Super Bowl Fabulosity . . .

Dear you --

The Patriots WON WON WON the Bowl a la Super!!!!

A record-breaking viewing crowd and a freaky game with unexpected events (e.g. - football bouncing into fallen receiver's hands and fame-making interception by humble youngster who was working at Popeye's five minutes ago) made the NFL championship show the best ever.  And my Brady/Patriot bias has nothing (well, maybe something) to do with my assessment.

But there is more!  The advertising.  Yawn, yawn, yawn in response to the pathos of puppies and paternity. What I loved is/was the Reebok sell:




Be more human indeed.  My idealized self loves to identify with these types, and the televised ad Super Bowl night was just . . . killer good.  I have to use the word inspirational, exhausted though it be.  But the backlash is coming already:  claims this appeals to vanity, the ME ME ME obsession.  Really?  Isn't it refreshing to see a celebration of the flesh instead of the latest techno gadget or the crap sold on Home Shopping Network?  And even if most serious play-types can't afford the actual Reebok product, doesn't this ad acknowledge they exist and are "just doing it" (sorry, competitor Nike) too?

But I need to add another human-type to this Reebok demographic, one that is often criticized by fitness freaks and Puritans:
The Sporty-Lite Human!  She smokes and enjoys reading in the bathtub just as much as she likes her workouts.  Aren't both forms of delicious indulgence required if she (okay, I do mean I) REALLY wants to "be more human"?

One last interesting confession.  On YouTube, the Reebok ad is linked to a quiz that calculates . . . "humanness".    I took the quiz.  My confession?  When asked if I had to choose between being a genius or being astonishingly good looking, I chose the latter.

Have a truly human day :)

Yours in Mutual Narcissism,
Joyce

Super Bowl Sunday --- nail biting plus beer . . .

Halftime, Dear You!

With all the serious events on planet earth, millions of American peeps and I are all peppy over the game.  I am simultaneously on Twitter, posting random reactions to #PatiotsNation or something hash-taggy like that.

Seriously, I want Brady and company to take this one.  Give Tom another ring!

Meanwhile, rain falls in north Florida all day.  I complete my taxes and get fined for not paying for health insurance.   Really?  My precarious work situation is tough enough without being penalized for not cooperating with health insurance monoliths.

But why worry about reality?  Miss K. Perry is about to perform at halftime and I can distract myself with bread and circuses . . . putting the Romans to shame.

Offering a hopeful prediction:  Patriots will win this one . . . Wilson's last minute miracles won't happen this night. Or so I say.  OMG!  Just looked at the television.  K. is riding on this vile looking, giant, mechanical tiger.  And now there are dancing robots . . . Truly, we are a demented nation :)

Kisses and Go Patriots!

Your Joyce

Balls, bread bags and a big old storm . . .

Hi you!


Just when I thought it was safe to celebrate the Patriots' AFC win and upcoming Super Bowl, here comes #DeflateGate.  See Twitter.  Really?  The nonsense continues as attackers eat TV time with assertions of guilt:  They say Brady must have requested the football changes (for those outside of sports craziness, you know the claim --- the air pressure for balls used by the Pats in the game against the Colts were judged below required limits).  Really, again?  Why would someone this good at the game do something that could jeopardize a hot season record?  The Pats are clever and deflation would be a rookie mistake.  Balls.

And now on to BREAD BAGS!  After the recent State of the Union speech, the Republican response by Senator Ernst replayed her campaign screeds.  Those ad-bits were all about her humble childhood; one so pure and poor that she had to put BREAD BAGS over her one pair of shoes during wet weather.  Pretty soggy stuff.  What was relevant about her personal anecdote?  What on earth did it have to do with a response to the SOTU?  It made as much sense as #DeflateGate.

And additionally, winter is real.  A serious storm is on its way to the northeast.  Weather folks say is will be equivalent to a Category 5 hurricane.  Ms. Ernst should send her bread bags up that way.

Balls, bread bags and a big old storm.

That is the buzz this day as I do the usual avoidance of serious class preparation for Composition lectures tomorrow.  Why be serious when I can be . . .  me?

Love and kisses to all Brady supporters and the sweet Northeast in general.  Get out your bread bags!

Joyce

P.S. - A cat has adopted me.  Not feral, Gato (his new name) wandered onto the property weeks ago and meowed at me until I gave him milk.  Now, he has a fur sleep-house, the best cat food, entertainment (he likes to watch me dance), toys, the screened in porch as Gato's Ghetto, and the entire yard as his personal litter box.  Me.  With a living creature who loosely depends on me.  The pressure!

Speak . . .

And I believe that is all I need to say this day.

Love,
Joyce

2015 underway . . .

Dear You:

2015 has a wonderful look to it.  2. 0. 1. 5.  Math whizzes among you may understand its allure.

Here in Panama City Beach/Inlet Beach, foggy chill is drifting in, bringing wintry temperatures . . . at least according to north FL standards.

Reading Chauncey DeVega's blog, I was amused and stirred by his thoughts on resolutions for a new year.  So often, my resolutions are simple, like "to-do" lists.  I try not to overshoot or make promises that I can't execute.  But this year, I want to take another resolution approach.

Back to Mr. DeVega and his recent holiday post.  He writes: "Some folks believe that I am "angry". As a working class black American, my 2015 resolution is that I promise to be even more angry whenever possible and appropriate."

That is just one cool thing DeVega says, and I am "resolving" inspired by his point.  So, for 2015, I promise to:
1.  Be even more disruptive at the college whenever things look a little too much like "Office Space".
2.  Be less accepting of idiocy - everywhere.
3.  Be continually impatient for change, social and political, in my USA.
4.  Be insatiable.
5.  Be TEFLON when it comes to work-hustling, family blow-back, or local redneck foolishness!

BE!

I could share my DO list too, but it wouldn't mean much.  I can always DO, but BEING is often much more difficult.

Cheers and kisses . . . enjoy the NFL playoffs (love you Patriots + Tom Brady & Giselle), the comforts found on cold nights, and the comedy we will all soon enjoy provided by the next race for the presidency/2016.  The Republican contest should be quite a show!   (PS: Why won't they give me Rand Paul? Well, that's another blog entry . . . )

Joyce Joyful Nuevo Nuevo!!