miley cyrus – i can’t believe i’m writing about her either

miley cyrus – i can’t believe i’m writing about her either

the uproar & hoopla over miley’s performance at the Video Music Awards has died down.

gratefully.

yet, I’m still having flashbacks of miley’s disturbing, flesh-colored Daisy Dukes. if only I could wash my mind out with soap.   her performance left me saying, honey, you can’t dance so please give it up & that goes double for that nasty foam finger you kept putting in very unladylike places.    anyway, i’ve finally put my finger on the reason i was so appalled.

you’re hanging on the edge of your seat, right?    & in case you’re wondering, my finger is not, i repeat, not a foam finger.

her being such an attention-hog really got on my nerves —  i mean, wasn’t it supposed to be robin thicke’s moment in the sun?   and, btw, isn’t he FINE?  the song he sang,  “blurred lines”  — well, i just love it.   let’s all  sing a few bars, shall we?

hey, hey, hey……… hey, hey, hey………..hey, hey, hey

if you can’t hear what I’m tryin’ to say….   if you can’t read from the same page…

maybe I’m goin’ crazy….  maybe I’m goin’ blind…    maybe I’m goin’ out of my

mi–i-i-i—i-i-i — i-i-i—i-i-i-i-i-i-i—nd

you’re going to have that song stuck in your head all day now, aren’t you?

you’re welcome.

okay, here’s the other reason.  i love miley’s music —  i seriously do — & when she ditched the whole disney, hannah montana-persona  in favor of  the  “serious artist”  persona, she pulled it off.  honestly, she did, & I really & truly like her music.

but strutting around the stage pretending to be a sex-bomb like britney spears? well, she didn’t pull that off, because she just ain’t.   yeah, i know britney was a mouseketeer, & so was christina aguilera. whatever.  for them, it was merely a footnote.

for her “sexy” moment, miley wore tennis shoes & short, little pig tails all over her head & absolutely would not stop sticking out her tongue — something ornery little kids do, right?

& did i mention, the girl just can’t dance…  i think i did, but,  i mean, come on! ,  “twerking” her skinny little booty as if she was  bootilicious beyonce?

egads.

but, you  know — the girl’s doing something right, because I’m still talking about her..

dilated pupils

dilated pupils

okay, I got a crazy new book today. It’s on body language, but you probably figured that out already.

it’s a pretty boring book, actually — takes lots of skimming to get to anything really good. here’s what’s interesting so far — it’s about the eyes. bet you didn’t know that the pupils do something weird, well i guess it’s not really weird, since it’s normal — but when you get excited or turned-on, or you basically really like something, your pupils dilate. like, big time. if i were really cool & knew how to use my computer better, i’d patch in some photos, but i’m not, & i don’t, so you’re going to have to use your imagination.

they’ve got pictures of this model. the first photo, she’s just basically looking at you with a seductive-ish smile — no big deal. next picture, same exact photo, except they’ve manipulated it to make her pupils dilated, like crazy-big, & guess what? she looks like a sexy babe. then, it says below the photo that Revlon increased its catalogue sales 45% by dilating their models’ eyes. nuts, right? well, no, i guess.

next thing on the pupils — they tested some dudes when they were looking at porn.  yep, their pupils dilate. go grab a mirror & pull up a porn site & see what happens. i can wait, or do it later — whatever.

you probably figured out that this  dilating is subconscious. or is it unconscious? either way, it happens whether you want it to or not. so, that partner of yours that you suspect is secretly gay — or straight? now you can find out for sure.

you’re welcome.

if you love david bowie as much as i do, and i really do, you’ll find this interesting.  not only are his eyes different colors (one’s blue & one’s hazel), one of them is permanently-dilated. this is a really cheap book & none of the photos are in color, so i couldn’t say whether it’s his blue eye or his hazel one, but he got the dilated pupil from a fistfight over a girl when he was a wee lad of 12 years old.

the book also says that babies have larger pupils than grownups & that their pupils constantly dilate when grownups are around, trying to look more appealing so they’ll get more attention. how weird is that?

okay — one last thing, because i know you’re getting antsy to pull up your porn site.   it’s about the whites of your eyes. humans are the only primates that have them, meaning that monkeys’ eyes are completely dark. you can tell where humans are looking — whether they’re acting shifty, or if a man’s checking out a chick’s boobs or something.  having no whites gives monkeys an advantage when they’re hunting because their prey has no idea if they’ve been spotted or if the monkey’s even looking at them at all.

oh, hey — i just thought of this — wonder if that single-dilated eye of bowie’s is why like half the population is crazy about him.  if they both were dilated, i’ll bet my mom would be listening to young americans in her car.

okay —   tootles

dear abby

dear abby

I’ve always wanted to write an advice column. Not that I’m so smart and cool and anyone would take my advice anyway, but wouldn’t it be refreshing to read an answer that was the truth? So, here’s a letter from Disengaged in Florida in today’s Dear Abby, and I’m going to paraphrase and trim it down, because, frankly — the woman’s too wordy.

I’ve been married for 40 years and we have a good marriage. I wouldn’t change a thing, except I’ve never had an engagement ring. My husband’s bought me jewelry over the years, but never what I really want — a diamond ring — and he can certainly afford it. After hinting, leaving jewelry catalogues around, and even having my sister-in-law tell him, I feel unloved and deeply hurt . It’s becoming clear that he thinks I’m not worth it.

My response: You think? Why not do what most women do when they’re pissed — cut off the nooky until he comes through, although it occurs to me that you’ve probably tried that already, which was fine with him since your finger remains ring-less. So, here’s how you fix his wagon, improve your marriage and get your personal power back at the same time: Buy yourself a huge, honking rock, preferably with your own dinero, and while you’re at it, pick up a stripper pole and g-string and quit your whining.

Now, I haven’t even read Dear Abby’s response yet, as to remain unbiased, so hold on a second while I do.

Okay I’m back – and again, I’ll paraphrase and trim it down.

Diamonds are minerals that have been marketed to the public to seem like something more, so don’t let this screw up your marriage. Lots of women do it, so consider buying one for yourself.

Oh, poor dear, dear Abby….  you clearly need my help.

The Final Curtain

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