Friday, March 29, 2013

Bacon mouthwash (yes, really)

Don't get me wrong. While I'm into healthy eating, I enjoy a few slices of bacon every now and then. (I make it in the microwave, on paper towels, which absorbs the excess fat and leaves the bacon nice and crispy. Mm mm.) But this craze for putting bacon in everything -- bacon cupcakes, bacon candles -- has finally gone too far.

Really Scope? Bacon Mouthwash?



After watching that video, I may never eat another piece of bacon again. (FYI, Scope Bacon Mouthwash -- "For breath that sizzles!" -- is made with synthetic bacon flavor, not real bacon. So does that mean vegetarians, Jews, and Muslims can gargle with it? Just wondering.)

I really hope Scope Bacon is an April Fool's Day joke.

[My favorite YouTube comment: "Can I use it to marinate other non bacon flavour stuff? Like my cat?" Click on the video to go to YouTube and see the other very funny comments, including Scope's replies.]

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Cat shows dog who's in charge

I love this video titled "Cat taking the dog home."



I was also amused by the P.S. left by the cat's owner, DAFNA, "I did not train her to do this."

Of course you didn't, DAFNA. Cats do not need to be told -- or trained -- to put dogs in their place.

Indeed, cats innately know, from the time they are kittens, how to keep dogs in line.



Just give in, Murkin. As any cat owner* will tell you, resistance is futile.

* or member of Starfleet or Gulliver

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

It's the Easter Mini!

Hey, boys and girls! Did you know this Sunday is Easter? And if you are really good, maybe the Easter Mini will bring you some chocolate Easter eggs! Yay!















The resemblance to this giant gray Flemish rabbit is striking, no? But can that rabbit deliver eggs at 55 mph? I don't think so.
















A happy Easter to my Christian friends (and to my Jewish ones who will be holding their annual Easter egg hunt this weekend)!

[To answer your questions: Yes, I really did go and buy rabbit ears and a rabbit nose for my car. (They came as a package.) Yes, that is my Mini Cooper, Roger, who is only slightly bigger than that Flemish rabbit. And yes, I know Roger looks more like the Easter Mouse than the Easter Bunny. Work with me people.]

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

And now a word about titillating journalism

I believe in keeping abreast of the news, but keeping breasts in the news? Not so much.

Look, I get it. Traditional evening network and local news shows have been losing viewers for years -- and news stations are under tremendous pressure to deliver eyeballs. But has it really come to this, ABC News? "At 'Breastaurants,' Business Is Booming. While many restaurant chains are struggling, Twin Peaks, Tilted Kilt and others are thriving."

Breastaurants? Really?



Wow, that must be really hard, guys -- researching and covering titty bars, excuse me, sports bars, like Twin Peaks (don't worry friends, sexism and misogyny are alive and well in America!), which are giving chains like Hooters some stiff competition.

Interviewing all those, uh, well-rounded females, about what keeps guys coming... back for more must be really hard work.

And OMG, did he just say "ample portions"?! (Excuse me while I bang my head against my desk. So, how'd that woman's lib thing work out for you ladies?)

Oh, and nice camera work, guys. I'm sure the audience was paying very close attention to those revenue numbers you were reciting against that backdrop of cleavage.

Poor Hooters. (Excuse me while I shed a tear.) How can it possibly keep up with the nubile competition when its "sales" are "sagging" and "flat"?

Duh! By becoming a family restaurant! Of course! It's so obvious. What woman wouldn't want to go out to eat with her husband and impressionable children at a titty, excuse me, sports bar?! (But J., you are saying, they have kids menus!)

Oh yeah, Nirav Patel, owner of the Hoboken Tilted Kilt, I am sure that what keeps customers coming is your... food.

Thank you nameless restaurant expert for keeping it real: "It's not about the wings, it's about the breasts."

And thank you, Nightline, for restoring my faith in journalism. Not. (Somewhere Ted Koppel is weeping.)

Sunday, March 24, 2013

In honor of my 1000th blog post...

I am officially getting on my soapbox and speaking my mind about a few things that have been bugging me.















[For those of you wondering, yes, that is a genuine soapbox. The spouse bought if for me on eBay. Best anniversary present ever. And yes, those are fuzzy slippers -- my fuzzy slippers, which I wear around the house. Though I do not sit around the house watching TV in (or out) of them, nor do I eat bonbons.]

In no particular order, here goes.

* WTF Congress?! We claim to be the greatest nation in the world, and yet millions of our citizens live below the poverty level -- and your latest budget will only plunge more families and children into poverty. Frig the deficit. Let's get more Americans back to work, at jobs that pay a decent wage. I don't know about all of you, but I would rather see my tax dollars spent on hiring more teachers, more policeman, more firefighters, and fixing our crumbling bridges, tunnels, and highways than fighting made up wars and the salaries of Congressman and Senators who can barely pass the salt let alone a piece of legislation. (And do not get me started on gerrymandering.)

* I hate designated hitters (DHs). How can you have a sport, baseball, with two separate sets of rules, especially when we now have interleague play?! Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, "but we're protecting the pitcher." If you are so effing concerned about your effing players, they should all be forced to wear those ridiculous, uber padded batting helmets that make them look like the Great Gazoo. No coddling pitchers. Get rid of the DH.

* And while we are on the topic of baseball, I hate bunting. I get why players bunt, but I still think it's stupid.

* And speaking of sports, player salaries are way out of control. I get that there are some very talented athletes out there, but does Alex Rodriguez really deserve to be paid $28 million this season? Were any of these guys worth the millions they were paid last year? And tell me Amar'e Stoudemare is worth $20 million?! (And I'm a Knicks fan.) And no way does Joe Flacco deserve to be the highest paid player in the NFL. (Here are some fun stats about football player salaries.) And what truly disgusts me is when these spoiled millionaires throw public hissy fits about not being paid what they are worth, like there is a big difference between $22 million and $20 million a year or even $12 million and $10 million (especially when your team has already spent millions on you). Disgusting.

* Stop effing renaming things! Just leave buildings, bridges, and stadiums alone. Unless the Kennedy family paid the City of New York a billion dollars to do so, there was NO REASON for the City of New York to rename the Triborough Bridge the RFK Bridge. None. And I get that Pan Am went under, and that MetLife left the Pan Am signage up for years after Pan Am had moved and MetLife owned the building, but I will forever think of the tower above Grand Central Terminal as the Pan Am Building, not the MetLife Building. (And get this, MetLife doesn't even own the building anymore! Hasn't since 2005!)

* And why is it so hard to find something with a plot, but without gratuitous (or excessive) violence, that doesn't insult my intelligence, on TV? (Save it Downton Abbey lovers. I get it.) Am counting the days until Newsroom returns on HBO. (Or I would if I knew exactly when in June HBO will begin airing Season 2.)

* Another thing that bugs me, victims. I'm not talking Newtown here. I'm talking people who act like victims, who take no responsibility for their own lives or their actions, who constantly blame others for what's wrong with them or their lives.

* Also up there, people who constantly brag about their kids. OMFG. NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR KID(S) ALL THE TIME, except maybe their grandparents. That is not to say you shouldn't be proud and tell the world when your child does something really remarkable, like wins some major award or accomplishes something that is a big deal. But some days I think they should just rename Facebook Lake Wobegone. (A large part of the reason I no longer talk on the phone with friends, or get together with certain people who have children, is that all they want to talk about is their kids. Spending five minutes catching up on kid stuff, great. More than that? Torture. What happened to you people?)

Okay, I'm getting off my soapbox now. (But feel free to get up on your own soapbox and leave a comment about what bugs you. Though please, no personal attacks.)

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Hey, it's Michael Jordan and... OMG KITTENS!!!

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

It is a sad day when basketball legend Michael Jordan is upstaged by --



OMG KITTENS! Can I have a cute, cuddly, kitten shirt made up of furry little white kittens?! Pleeaase? OMG, how cute are those little white furballs?!

Ahem. Getting back to business (but seriously, did you hear those cute little meows? aaaah)... What does it say about former basketball legend Michael Jordan that Hanes felt the need to include kittens, which, as we all know, are irresistible and make everything around them invisible, in an undershirt commercial with him?

A sad day indeed. (Except for the part about kittens.)

Friday, March 22, 2013

The strangest story I've ever told?

Okay, maybe this isn't the strangest story I've ever told. That would be The Tale of the One-Armed Tow Truck Driver. But this is a close second.

Onward and upward....

So 10 years ago, on the night of March 17, 2003, St. Patrick's Day, my father died suddenly as he was preparing for bed. (The doorman found him the next morning, after my always punctual father didn't show up for work and didn't answer any of his phones.) He had just returned from a long weekend in Florida, where we had joined him, and seemed fine to the friend he had just had dinner with. Indeed, according to the doctors he regularly saw, he was in perfect health.

But a sixty-something man in seemingly perfect health suddenly keeling over is not all that strange. Sadly, it happens all too often -- to both men and women younger than that.

After some discussion, we decided to cremate him. And, as my father loved golf above all things, except perhaps for me and my daughter (and my husband), we wanted to sprinkle his ashes on his favorite golf course, Deepdale, which he lovingly referred to as his Manhasset office. (My father was a stockbroker who conducted much of his business on the golf course. At one time a scratch golfer, he had a 5 handicap, I believe, at the time of his death.)

Unfortunately, though, the golf course, as much as they loved my father, refused to let us bury his ashes there -- though they did finally consent to letting me sprinkle a small handful on the 17th green.

So I wound up taking my father's remains, which had been placed by the funeral home in a stylish wooden box and covered with a velvet sack, home with me -- and placed them in our guest room, next to the ashes of our dearly departed cat Sylvester, who my father adored and who adored him.

But leaving my father's remains in the guest room just never felt right (though it elicited some amusing comments from guests -- the ones we told). While three of the people he loved lived here, it was never his home -- or where he would want to be laid to rest.

However, I had no ability or was not allowed to bury his ashes in the places he truly cherished and would want as his final resting place -- his rent-controlled apartment high above Park Avenue on 84th Street, his office at Bear Stearns (now JPMorgan Chase), the Breakers in Palm Beach (where he always had the same room, which he stayed in frequently), and, most of all, his beloved golf courses (Deepdale, National, Shinnecock, Loxahatchee, and Seminole*). So in our guest room he remained.

For years, I was weighed down with guilt -- and would have nightmares and become depressed around St. Patrick's Day, which was never one of my favorite days to begin with (for some reason the memory of drunken men peeing or barfing along Madison Avenue, just off the parade route, elicits no fond feelings).

Then a couple of weeks ago, as the tenth anniversary of my father's death approached, I decided to ask three of my father's closest friends for help in getting Shumer (yes, that was my father's first name -- don't ask) to his final resting place, or places, the places he loved most. And we devised a plan.

I cannot reveal the details of the plan here, as I do not want my partners in crime to get into trouble (though we are not sure if any crime will be committed), but it is brilliant -- and we believe Shumer would approve. But I will give you this hint: think garden gnome.

All I had to do was get Shumer to his former colleague (and devoted friend), R. Which proved to be less straightforward than you might think as R. works at a big investment banking firm -- the kind that has package-sniffing guard dogs. So personally escorting Shumer or overnighting him to R.'s office was out -- though R. and I agreed it would make good fodder for the New York Post. (Whaddya got in that box there, lady? Just my father, officer. We're taking him up to the trading floor.)

Instead, we decided to UPS Shumer to R.'s house. (We joked about sending him First Class, as that's how Shumer preferred to travel, but we chose UPS instead. I know, the indignity. Sorry dad.) Which entailed removing him from the guest room and putting him in suitable traveling attire.

As in life, Shumer seemed to have put on a few pounds while no one was looking. (I agree, R., 15 pounds does seem a lot for the ashes of a guy who was maybe 5'6" and of average weight.) Still, the spouse and I attempted to make him as comfortable as possible, placing the velvet-draped mini casket in a pile of styrofoam peanuts, in a box that wasn't too cramped. (Think of it as extra leg room, dad.) Then I placed a picture of Shumer swinging a golf club, his favorite activity, on top, and sealed the box.

So now, finally, after 10 years, Shumer is on his way to his final resting place(s).

To be continued...?

*What is it about naming private golf courses after extinct or forcibly removed Indian tribes?

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Spring reading

In the Spring a middle-aged woman's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of reading*.

So here, dear friends, are eight enchanting reads to pass a delightful (or dreary) spring day.

As per usual, I have separated the books into fiction and nonfiction and included a link to Amazon, to supplement my brief review/summary. 

Fiction

Death in the Floating City by Tasha Alexander. I'm pretty much a sucker for anything set in Venice, or Italy, or France. And I love a good mystery. Death in the Floating City has both, a good mystery and a good locale, as well as a captivating Romeo and Juliet (or Nicolo and Besina) story within the story. Even if you have not read any of Alexander's previous Lady Emily Mysteries (as I have), if you enjoy mysteries, especially ones set in late nineteenth-century Venice with clever plot twists, you will enjoy this book. I thought it was Alexander's best in many ways.  

The Typewriter Girl by Alison Atlee. I loved this book... up until the last page. Indeed, I was all set to put it on my list of favorite books of all time (and still may), but the very end left me disappointed and a bit confused. That said, many of you may not feel the same way. What made me like this book so much? The main characters, Elisabeth "Betsey" Dobson, a young ambitious Englishwoman trying to get ahead in the world, who is constantly thwarted by the men, mores, and morals of late nineteenth century England, and John Jones (a Welshman born Iefen Rhys-Jones), a hard-working, ambitious young man who sees something in Betsey and gives her the chance she has been looking for. I think I enjoyed this book so much because I strongly identified with Betsey, as I think many women will. Also, the writing is beautiful.

The Impeachment of Abraham Lincoln by Stephen L. Carter. Reading this book, you almost forget that Abraham Lincoln was assassinated in April 1865. That's how good a story teller and historian Stephen L. Carter is. I was mesmerized. In a nutshell, The Impeachment of Abraham Lincoln imagines what would or could have happened to President Lincoln, the cabinet, Congress, and the country had Lincoln recovered from the assassination attempt -- only to face impeachment two years later. Carter makes things all the more interesting by telling the story (or most of it) from the perspective of a 21-year-old aspiring lawyer, who happens to be an African-American woman. Like the best historical fiction, Carter weaves fact with fiction, using real people and events but altering them slightly. A must read, especially if you have seen the movie Lincoln.

The Ugly Duchess by Eloisa James. And what would one of my reading lists be without at least one romance novel? While I have more or less grown bored with the genre, The Ugly Duchess by Eloisa James managed to hold my interest. An amusing take on The Ugly Ducking, The Ugly Duchess is really a story about brains over beauty -- and gives the reader some hope that there are men (this being a romance novel that would be dashing, good-looking, wealthy men) out there who are not just after a pretty face, and/or a nice pair of tits, and/or or legs that go on forever. A good fun read for a cold or rainy spring day.

The Winter Sea by Susanna Kearsley. And speaking of romance... I loved this book. Loved. One of the most beautiful, moving books I have ever read. I was captivated -- and I don't care a fig about the Jacobites or Scottish history (though I love a man in a kilt -- if he has the legs to pull it off). In brief, The Winter Sea tells the story of best-selling historical fiction writer Carrie McClelland who, while researching her next book about the 1708 attempt to return James Stuart to the throne, comes across a story line she did not know existed. Compelled to pursue this new story line, she finds herself on the shores of Scotland at an ancient castle, where, though genetic memory and research, an ancient secret and love come to light. (Seriously, why am I not writing jacket copy for a living?)

Mistress of My Fate: Book One of the Confessions of Henrietta Lightfoot by Hallie Rubenhold. Hmm... there seems to be a theme here, though this novel (okay, romance novel, though it's not really) is set in late eighteenth-century England. It's a bit of a Cinderella story, though in this case the father doesn't die and Cinderella -- or Henrietta -- doesn't spend her days waiting on everyone hand and foot. But Cinderella/Henrietta doesn't exactly get her prince either. Now that I think about it, let us call Mistress of My Fate a rollicking adventure that exposes the underside (literally) of eighteenth-century British society. It is also a rollicking good read, for both men and women.

Nonfiction

Contagious: Why Things Catch On by Jonah Berger. If you enjoyed The Tipping Point and Freakonomics, you will probably enjoy Contagious, which argues that anyone who constructs a winning message can make that message go viral -- or catch on, or contagious. While I do believe that the message matters, and admire Berger's ability to define what makes a good message that is likely to catch on, I disagree (vehemently) that the person who is communicating the message, i.e., the messenger, and luck have little or nothing to do with it. Indeed, I think -- and have proof -- that the messenger, specifically influencers, mavens, and connectors, the messengers Gladwell identifies or labels in The Tipping Point, and timing matter as much or more than the message, though Berger disagrees with me (and has evidence supporting his position). I know too many cases, as I am sure do many of you (just look at Facebook and Twitter), where the same message (article, video, product, etc.) communicated by two different people achieved very different results**. That said, I think Contagious is must reading for marketers -- and if Berger's advice is followed will lead to better messaging.

Eighty Days: Nellie Bly and Elizabeth Bisland’s History-Making Race Around the World by Matthew Goodman. It is books like Eighty Days and writers like Matthew Goodman that make me burn to write a nonfiction book myself. (What's stopping me? Haven't found the right topic, plus I have no patience.) And while this is yet another book about strong women that happens to take place in the late nineteenth-century, in this case in the United States, Europe, and Asia, it is all true -- though it reads like fiction (in a good way). In short, the book is the fascinating story of two very different women journalists, Nellie Bly and Elizabeth Bisland, who attempted to circle the globe in less than 80 days back before the days of air travel, and telephones (or the widespread use of telephones), and mass communication. As someone who loves to travel and is a journalist by profession, I found Eighty Days particularly fascinating, but I think anyone would.

So what have you all been reading? Please let me know via a comment on the blog. (You don't have to have a Blogger profile or a website. Just leave a name or be Anonymous.)


*My apologies to Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

**True story: Alec Baldwin and I tweeted the exact same thing, at almost the exact same time, with the same link in it. Guess whose tweet got retweeted and clicked on hundreds of more times? And I have many other examples like this.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Just in time for Passover!

As many of you know, I am a big fan of Bubala Please on YouTube. And now, just in time for Passover, which begins Monday at sundown, comes the latest episode of Bubala Please, where my home boys Jaquann and Luis are in need of some serious Passover munchies. (Warning: This video contains some very non-kosher language.)



I don't know about all of you, but I am totally craving some of Luis's Baja Gefilte Fish Tacos right now.

And speaking of Passover food, specifically the Seder, check out this video called "Best Seder in the USA (The Passover Song)" by JewishTreats.



Chag Sameach, bitches.

Monday, March 18, 2013

Finally, a cure for the terminally hip

Are you ironic? Do you possess more than one Apple device? Do you watch Girls on HBO? Do you buy Fair Trade? Do you have a Tumblr blog... or a beard? Then you may be suffering from HIPSTER. Fortunately, now there is a cure, Unpretensiousil (aka Dedouchefin).


Unpretentiousil Medicine Commercial To Heal Hipster

Many thanks to friend of the blog (and recovering? hipster) Another David S. for sending me this video.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Best response to a standardized test ever

This week my daughter and millions of other students across the United States are taking their ERBs. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the ERB, which stands for Educational Records Bureau (as opposed to Epic Rap Battles), it is a series of really boring, pointless standardized tests designed to assess students knowledge of basic subject matter.

Today also happens to be National Pi Day, as in 3.14. And so when my daughter finished her ERB test with time to spare (perhaps a little too much time to spare), she composed the following note, written on the last page of her ERB test booklet. (Click on the image to get a larger view.)






















For those of you who, like me, can no longer read tiny print or up close, here is what she wrote:
THIS must be PAINFULLY BORING for you, even though you are getting paid and I am NOT. So here's a piece of pie because it's Pi Day. My favorite flavor is probably pumpkin with LOTS of cinnamon. :-) How about you? I hope this made your day a LITTLE better, or at least a bit more enjoyable. Remember, you're special. :-) xoxo, Abby  P.S. I wasted 15 minutes on this. Go me. :-O
While I know I should be horrified, or at least slightly appalled, I think it's great. It is ridiculous the number of standardized tests students, at least in my state, have to take, year after year. And they waste time that could be spent actually learning something.

So, yes, you go, Abby. I love you.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Let's talk about Sex...

as in SexCereal, a new high-fiber cereal that is supposed to make you more passionate.
















All I can say is fiber (and SexCereal) must have a really good PR agency.

Seriously, when did oats become sexy food? (Do not get an image of Wilford Brimley having sex. Do not get an image of Wilford Brimley having sex. I don't know about all of you, but I think SexCereal just killed my sex drive.)

What happened to oysters and chocolate and booze? You want her to feel more passionate in the morning? Give her some Cocoa Puffs and a glass of Champagne. (On a somewhat related note, I just discovered that Fiber One Cereal now comes in chocolate, to which I say, ew.)

Don't get me wrong. I'm not knocking oats and wheat germ and flax seeds. I know they help you do some things more regularly. (And I am passionate about regularity.) But in terms of bringing the sexy back? I don't think so.

You need proof? This is what happened to Justin Timberlake after he had some SexCereal:

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

It's over

Cats. You think they're just cute, funny balls of fur as you chuckle over the latest Maru or Simon's Cat or Grumpy Cat video. But think about it....

First they got us to feed them.

Then they got us to shelter them.

Before you knew it, we were picking up their excrement.

Heck, we invented the Internet just so people could watch adorably cute  videos of them!

And the only thing standing in the way of total feline domination?

The doorknob.

Or so we thought.

Bow down to your new feline overlords.



Be afraid, people. Be very afraid.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

When pigs surf

Alternate titles: Curls before swine... Hang swine... Pork on, pork off... This post will make you squeal with delight...

Meet Zorro the piglet, "New Zealands's latest surfing sensation" (who really should have been named Duke).



Zorro may be a grommet, but in no time he will be a big porkuna.

(Yes, everything I know about surfing I learned from watching 1960s beach party movies on the ABC 4:30 Movie or listening to Beach Boys albums.)

Friday, March 8, 2013

The great dishwasher debate

Alternate title: Is your dishwasher hosing your marriage?

Forget infidelity and finances, people. You want to know the real cause of marital discord, at least in the United States? The dishwasher. (And you people thought I was kidding around when I wrote about Dishwasher Nazis.)

According to a national online survey conducted by Harris Interactive on behalf of Bosch home appliances in June 2012 (though I just heard about it today), more than 40% of U.S. adults fight about loading the dishwasher.

The top five dishwasher-related disagreements (and I quote)?

"1. 61% fight over whether dishes should be pre-rinsed or not. Nearly two thirds of all men and women cited this issue as their leading cause for argument, proving the pre-rinse, rinse debate to be a universal annoyance. The truth is that you should not pre-rinse as the detergent needs to cling to food to avoid scratching your dishes.

[Okay, Bosch, but then explain why when we don't give our plates and glasses a quick rinse -- I'm not talking pre-washing here -- stuck-on food becomes Krazy Glued to my dishes? And don't tell me it's because we have a Miele dishwasher.]

"2. 41% clash about separating dishes or cramming as much as possible to tackle a larger load. Perhaps a case of Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus, Women (48%) are more likely to fight about doubling together dishes than men (33%).

[Yo, Bosch, don't know if you realize this but there is no water on either Mars or Venus. And if you cram plates covered in food together in the dishwasher, that stuff is never coming off. Though right now the spouse, who is from Queens, is loving this survey and is totally going to give me grief.]

"3. 39% argue over placing sharp knives point down or point up. Out of the group of women who were concerned with this issue, 43% argue about whether knives should be placed point up or down, compared to 34% of males. Using safety as your guide, the final say is to load knives point down for safety, while forks and spoons can be placed either handle up or down. A third rack on the Bosch 800 Plus dishwasher separates utensils to make it safer and easier to clean, load and unload.

[That third rack for utensils has probably saved many knives from being inserted point down into certain parts of the male anatomy. And while the separate utensil rack is a great idea in theory, it does a poor job of getting forks, knives, and spoons clean.]

"4. 34% insist on placing cups on the top rack and plates on the bottom rack while their mate believes it's every dish for themselves. The biggest division in the dishwasher deliberation comes in the form of organization: nearly one third (32%) of all females who fight about loading the dishwasher insist that cups be placed on the top rack and plates on the bottom rack, not mixed. Like any good relationship where each person needs their space, each dish should be separated by a dishwasher's tines. Often, couples can keep the peace by splitting up large loads of dishes into smaller loads. A half load option on Bosch dishwashers tackles smaller loads so dirty dishes don't sit in the dishwasher.

[It is like this survey was conducted in my kitchen. Scary. Again, I direct your attention to this post. I would also like to point out that loading or organizing a dishwasher is about logistics and logic. Ahem.]

"5. 30% debate about placing plastic containers on the top rack to prevent a major plastic meltdown, or placing containers wherever space is available. You may think that loading the dishwasher could smooth over a fight, but your efforts could have the opposite effect if your dishes are ruined in the process. If destroying an entire collection of plastic storage containers has plagued your marriage, Bosch dishwashers feature a concealed flow-through water heating element to prevent plastic containers from dissolving, no matter where they are placed.

[Let me save you people the cost of a divorce attorney or mediator: Never put plastic in the dishwasher. Not only could the plastic melt, but most plastics, even ones deemed "dishwasher safe" give off toxic fumes when heated/run through the dishwasher. Take the less than 30 seconds it requires to wash plastic containers by hand and then let them dry in a drying rack. Problem solved.]

"The survey also revealed that almost four out of ten men who have a dishwasher (38%) admit to finding excuses for getting out of loading the dishwasher altogether. Perhaps a tactic for avoiding the dreaded dishwasher dispute. The most common excuses included deferring the cleanup because they cooked the meal and demand chore equality (16%), blatantly admitting to being too lazy to clean the dishes (12%), and feeling as though they are too busy and their time is too important to be spent loading the dishwasher (10%)."

[They forgot to include "All of the above."]

One good thing about snow

I'll say one good thing about snow....

And no, it's not that school is closed (again).

Nor is it that "But snow is so pretty!"
















(Okay, it is kind of pretty, but you didn't hear it here.)

It's that you sometimes get a really cute video of golden retrievers sledding.



At least they are enjoying their snow day. (Me? I just booked a trip to Florida. Of course by mid-April all the snow will have melted. Probably.)

Note to a certain groundhog: I wouldn't go poking your head out of your hidey-hole any time soon. Capiche?

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

I want a pony... and a wombat... and...

I don't really want a pony (unless I find someone to take care of it for me). But I do love this amusing video of a dancing Shetland pony titled "The Pony #DancePonyDance" put out by UK mobile broadband provider Three.



"Silly stuff. It matters." Indeed.

And while I may not want a pony, I think a wombat would make a rather nice pet -- at least this little wombat.



[H/T to CuteOverload.com]

How cute is that wombat?! (Also, I just love saying the word wombat. Wha? No, wombat.)

All right. Back to work, people. (Sigh.)

Friday, March 1, 2013

Right?

Have any of you noticed how a growing number of Americans are ending sentences with the word right?

It's annoying, right?

Ending a sentence with the assumption that the other person agrees with you, right? (And it's typically not just one sentence but multiple sentences in a row, right?)

I mean, like, maybe it's not as bad as, you know, some of the other, like, annoying, uh, linguistic tics we Americans have.

But it's annoying all the same, right?

Personally, I blame the Canadians... eh?