Still in SF, stuffing L'Occitane soaps and lotions into my bag faster than they can turn down my sheets. Y needs to get her L'Occitane on, you see. I was given strict instructions to pocket whatever crack was available in my hotel room. I'll come home smelling like lavender and figs but I refuse to pilfer the Bonnet de Douche.
When was the last time you wore a shower cap?
My mom used to have a lime green one that hung on the wall outside of the shower. Can't say that I ever used it, nor do I recall her using it. Very peculiar. She must have bought it at a second hand store and thought it might come in handy at some point. If you haven't already listened to the kind of voice mail that my mom is capable of, I highly suggest The QVC Intervention, where you can hear a real live excerpt. It will help to get an audible on what's to come.
Whenever my mom has a story to tell about someone I don't know, she slips into what I refer to as the mini bio, so that she can get me caught up. Like so:
Honey, did I tell you what happened to Lois at work? She's around my age. She sits next to me, so sweet, she wouldn't hurt a fly. Dresses a little frumpy, one of her kids is blind in his right eye, her husband has been on disability for a million years, I'm not sure what the story is there. Anyway, she got into a fight with one of the partners and wound up throwing a paper weight across the room. You know, one of those heavy muthahs, with the fake snow inside?
She must think that the story would lose some edge, had I not known her husband was on disability. Either way, Lois threw a paper weight across the room. Now you don't hear that everyday.
My siblings and I talk about how hilarious this is, when she launches into the mini bio. She knows she does it, because I've imitated her to her face, which had her rolling. As much as I poke fun at the Ginbomb, I think she's onto something here...
Inspired by her snippets, I think I'm going to start reviewing movies without seeing them, based on the trailer alone. I could use the mini bio method - to warn potential moviegoers of sure to be flops before they spend their hard earned cash on a total piece of sh**.
Nights in Rodanthe:
She's an older woman, attractive, reddish hair, whose husband has been a complete pig womanizer. Apparently, hubby now wants to take her back. Red helps out a friend by running a fancy ocean-side inn for a weekend, meets Richard Gere, bonds with Gere for his affection for J. Crew hoodies, Banana Republic good-looks and his quiet intensity that involves pseudo flirting on a beach. Must love dogs and equally unrealistic and sappy films based on traveling to Tuscany to find oneself.
Death Race:
Like Mad Max, Beyond Thunderdome, but without the Thunderdome. Joan Allen plays a prison warden in the distant future. She already looks about a hundred years old and is seriously malnourished. Sunken in cheeks, bulging eyes. She gets her jollies off on putting together a "race to the death" and allows some of her inmates to participate. Lots of sweating, car flipping, shooting, cursing, explosions and oh yes, lots of driving.
Beverly Hills Chihuahua:
Some Paris Hilton type must lose her pocket pal that winds up mingling with the Huas from the other side of the tracks. All of the Cesar Milan sounding miniatures probably take Tinkerbell under their wing and start behaving badly together. I see potential for shoplifting along Rodeo, dog romance between Taco and Tinkerbell and two hours of pure, unimaginative crap that can only be appreciated by some (less gifted) children 3 and under.
Recent Comments