Mondrianyone

It's very common for the daughters of poor families in rural Thailand to be sold into prostitution by their families for the income they can provide or to pay back debts. So if that's true of Annie, the cover story is for herself and to avoid shaming her family for what they did to her, because obviously they would already know what kind of work she was doing. What bothers me about this show is how they're exploiting these kids for their own purposes. Sure, the kids' lives may improve, but they also have a right to continue living in their homeland if they want to. No one needs to be uprooted so somebody else can have a story line and keep from getting a real job for another year.

I'm going to say that if you want to be a woman, it takes more than just boobs--especially those ridiculous cannonball monstrosities. I guess it's good that that couple found each other, although the woman with MD isn't doing her partner any favors by encouraging her worst impulses. A few seasons ago there was a male tattoo artist who I thought was really good. I don't know why they're so invested in this current tattooist. So far I'm not impressed with her work at all.

A few years after we moved to Maine, a couple of girlfriends and I went down to Camden for dinner. I was driving my late, lamented Dodge Grand Caravan (as long as a city block and with an interior the size of Radio City Music Hall). We found a space around the corner from the restaurant, and I slid in. Both of their jaws were hanging open. I said, "What?" And they said, "You did that in one try!" Well, jeez, I've been parallel-parking my whole life. It's not a skill you need to develop up here. So now I know how to show off if I need to. 🚙

Our cat before the current one managed to log onto the internet on my husband's desktop. I said she must've been looking for kitty porn. The current one danced all over my keyboard while I was here one day and opened a bunch of people's profiles. Very fancy footwork.

Probably not if she wants to continue being on TV, though. That seems to be the highest good with these freaks.

When I was little and I wanted to pretend I had long, luxuriant hair, I would plop one of these on top of my head and pose in front of the bathroom mirror: Memphis could do a lot worse. And has.

I always wonder how people who can't afford to feed their kids or put a roof over their heads can manage to swing such elaborate body ink. Priorities . . .

This is why I'm convinced that Gino was never anything more than a means to an end for her. There's nothing remotely attractive about him (literally from head to toes), he's unemployed, he's creepy, he's cheap and thoughtless--what's the draw? How could this weasel break her heart? She wanted to be on TV, and I believe it more now than when I first threw out the idea, that she's auditioning for a telenovela part or something along those lines.

I can't explain why this had me laughing so hard. I think it made me remember when my parents said that a pet who died was now living at a farm in the country. I'll go slap myself.

My husband had this stuff recommended to him not long ago after he started having acid reflux, which he's never had before. I was skeptical, but it really has been very effective. I've had the problem for a long time, and it helped me, to my surprise. Amazon carries it, too, but here it is on Walmart: https://www.walmart.com/ip/stops-acid-reflux-8-oz-by-caleb-treeze-old-amish-formula/757309873

In a good way, I'm assuming? I stopped recording it, so I think I missed a show that might've been worth watching.

I think that might be the point of them (no pun intended). To signal to the world that you don't have to function. Your role in the world is to be entirely decorative, and other people are meant to do the work you can't or won't. The fact that they look creepy AF (not to mention what kinds of things can collect under them) seems to be irrelevant.

Not sure where to put this, but . . . I guess these people think they can try to sell anything, from farts to feets. My opinion of Alexei is circling the drain, even if he's just letting her push him into this latest round of nonsense. But $3,000 seems reasonable for a photo of a pair of bunions, no?

The Beyond TV Shows block has disappeared from my home page, and I can't figure out how to get it back. This could be because I never did anything to put it there in the first place--it was just always an integral part of the home page. Is there some way to restore it? I've tried everything I can think of.

I know. Didn't someone famous get hit by a bus or something by looking the wrong way? I can't recall who or what. I think it's that way in Jamaica, too. God, I'm a walking memory lapse today. Too much work. But I don't remember it being as traumatic as the UK. Until it started raining and the roads got oily. The best part was that I was driving a stick, so I think it was also wrong hand on the gearshift--and maybe even wrong foot on the clutch (can't remember that either). You just have to suck it up and plunge in.

I hate traffic circles. The worst was driving in England, where you go around so fast (and you're driving on the wrong side of the road with the steering wheel on the wrong side of the car--but more about that in a minute) that you feel you could be launched into outer space if you exited wrong. There are a couple of them in the most trafficky part of the state capital here. I was a passenger there in the car of a very eccentric friend of mine, who is a terrible driver. As we enter the circle, she says, "Almost no one knows how to drive through a traffic circle, but I'm very good at it." And she's going about three miles an hour, and a whole line of cars is bunched up behind her, blasting their horns (which you never hear in Maine) and trying to squeeze past her, and she's completely oblivious. I realized at that moment that she's a vehicular Typhoid Mary--she never has an accident, but she causes a ton of them. I don't go places with her anymore. (One thing that dawned on me while driving in England is that after the initial terror of doing it all backwards, English driving actually feels much more natural if you're a lefty like me.)

What's scary is, I suspect they might have gone to undergraduate at the same school. Yikes. We had a similar citrus experience. I needed orange zest but not the guts of the orange, so I told him he could eat the one orange we had in the house if he let me have the zest. But not necessarily in that order. So he ate the orange and thoughtfully left me the peel. And where we live now, you can't just pop out and get another orange and pop back home in five minutes. Somehow I zested the peel. Fortunately, my husband is not licensed to cut into human flesh.

But not husband envy, I can't help noting.

Apparently he did not. He also apparently didn't notice the big honkin' display panel between the stove knobs which lights up to show which oven is running. Because . . .. Because why? I don't know.

I'm peeving and laughing at the same time. Okay, so this is our oven: I'm making ribs for dinner, and my sister calls while I'm putting on the rub and packing them in foil. I had already preheated the oven, and while I'm still talking to my sister, my husband comes into the kitchen, and I hand him the pan of ribs and ask him to put them in the oven. Eventually my sister and I hang up and I go into another room with the kitchen timer, because I have to flip the ribs at the halfway point, an hour into cooking. I open the bottom door--and no ribs. What??? He put them in the top part. Which wasn't on. So I show him, and he says, "You said to put them in the oven. I put them in the oven." Can't argue with that. There's an hour of my life I'm not getting back.

Boy, @Scarlett45, that is like the Versailles of cat towers! Three separate wings. It makes ours look like a little shack. You need to throw a housewarming party for that!

I was thinking about this, too, from the cleanliness standpoint. If he hangs out at the firehouse, I bet he remembers not to toss his used Kleenex wherever. The other firefighters might toss him into a burning building if he pulled that crap once too often. My feelings on Mike have done a 180. At first I thought he was just this poor little schlemiel looking for love, and I felt sorry for him. But there are plenty of poor little schlemiels who manage to find women in their same weight class at home in the States. Mike thought he could get something better, and it bit him in the ass. Boohoo.

No joke. I once read a news article about a cop out directing traffic who was decapitated by a sheet of ice that flew off the roof of a truck.

I get it. You were imprinted. But the child thing makes it even funnier. Thanks for the compromise, though. I got to weep respectfully and you got to surrogate-laugh. Win/win. 😂

I want to hit the Laugh icon for your impersonation, but that's obviously disrespectful given the reality of it all. What to do, what to do . . .