* Recently I was admitting to my neighbor Trisha that I am sickly drawn to the Real Housewives of the OC. I can't stop watching it, and when it is on, though I want to tear myself away from the trainwreck, I can't. Then I read on MimiSmartypants this quote:

"I admit to a bit of a Real Housewives problem. LT does not understand my fascination with really shallow people, no matter how many times I try to explain that it is anthropological in nature. I am the Jane Goodall of dumbasses. Also, has anyone else noticed the abundance of REALLY GIANT necklaces that all these women seem to wear? Is that just a way of covering up your sun-damaged neck skin? Or calling further attention to your wide-apart hammerhead-shark-style breast implants? I don't get it. "

This sums up my obsession with the show. You can't stop yourself- I swear to you. And no RHofNYC will do it for me... nope- it's gotta be the original OC's.

* The magpie is taking his bath and I can hear him scrubbing the wall with his fingernail brush. I told him to stop and he said, "this bathroom is going to look like new!" I fear my OCD is rubbing off on him.

Yummy

Now if Motorola wanted me to attend the Nascar race, maybe he ought to've mentioned that Jason Seahorn would be there in prime locale to his seats. I just might have borne the 250 lap left turn for this reason.