True to their name...

Well apparently Sprite, has quite a few of these commercials, and I frankly find them hilarious (says my sordid sense of humor!) Sue me!

And if anyone knows anything, a sprite in folklore is known for being a mischievous little creature on occassion. So I guess the brand Sprite is harnessing the spark and puckish implication of their name and releasing that into their brand identity via these ads.

So here's one more for the road...if you're thirsty: Enjoy!

If it REALLY taste like Sprite...

...then dammit I need to move to Germany! *wink-wink* lol...j/k! Or am I??

Check this shit out (WARNING: NSFW):

**click on link above**

Man-o-man, I wish I had been


the...no, THE pervert to think up this advertising genious! I mean, yeah sure, they managed to get Sprite banned in Deutschland, and all, but I think I blame this on the captions.

*side note*: Imagine having THAT on your resume:

Kimberly C. Dubb

*Lead Ad Executive - Ad Agency of Terrific Ads Co. - 5/2008 - present
- Created risque, avant garde ads promoting featured Sprite soft drink for German market, featuring white lady fellating strapping black male
- Stirred enough controversy from Sprite ad to ensure brand expulsion from said German market

**References available upon request**


I mean really, since when in the history of bobbing for apples did one ever think to want a Sprite? Maybe some water, maybe some alcoholic beverage, maybe even a breath mint...but Sprite?? Okay, maybe it has happened, but her thinking about it looks so....boring. And then judging on this chick's reaction, she surely wasn't that damn bored.

In my humble, "Christian-like" opinion (*wink* HEY! don't judge me!), she should've said something more like, "I really wish this taste like Sprite." Now, that my friends is much more plausable.

Give it a second.

Think on it.

See, now? Hmm...I think I could go for a Sprite right now. lol! *wink*

In with a bang...

Okay y'all, my loyal dozens and doughnut holes of readers! I'm back!! Ya miss me??

Huh?

Huh?

Please say, "yes."

And of course, what prompted me into picking back up the proverbial tablet and pen to scratch down my thoughts...none other than death. Who's dead? Well, dammit where do we start? Let's see, Ed McMahon, done. Farrah Fawcett, really an angel now. MJ, went to meet the Big Gloved One in the sky. *tear*



But, I guess I'll have to discuss the one that (in my humble-esque opinion) is the most interesting. The one who went out with a BANG! (yes, that 'effed up pun was intended.)

Not funny, but that's the way that Steve McNair's Fourth of July weekend transpired. Man. =(

Irony of all ironies...born on a holiday (Valentine's), and died on a holiday (the 4th). Because of "love" he went out with some real fucked up kind of "fireworks." I mean, it's hardly a secret that many celebrity athletes cheat; must be encoded into their DNA, or something. In fact, I think by my non-scientific observation, I'd say about 75 - 99.9% of all sports figures cheat. I mean, look at the nature of their respective sports.

Baseball, those bastards' season last like 365 days of the year, (including leap years or some ridiculousness like that), all I know is they STAY on ESPN when sometimes I just want to see some basketball or football...not a boring ass game that takes eons for SOMETHING to happen! Ugh! (Go Marlins!) Can you tell I like baseball???

Okay, I digress. Anyhoo, my point is baseball dudes stay on the road, away from the old ball and chain wife & kids. And well, chances are as high as Redman puffing on herb in a broom closet, that any red-blooded man doped up on some 'roids is going to need to let out that manly urge to mate. Enter....groupie hoes! They're a dime a dozen, found in any city near you.



Then take basketball celebrity cheaters, stories and rumors are notorious in this sport, throw a rock at any team roster, and you're bound to hit a cheater. Side baby-mamas, STDs, rampant divorce...all that. Most wives are probably lucky to survive the 82-game season with their marriages still intact.



And now good old football. Take your pick, but one of the funniest, two words: Ron Mexico. (google it).



But this one, Steve McNair...just plain sad. Fucked up, and sad. I mean, just as when I twittered about it, I was being dead-ass in the midst of my foolishness...but people really need to learn to ration out their crazy. McNair, should have seen that this little girl, YES - LITTLE GIRL (I'm sure she just graduated primary school yesterday), wasn't ready. She hadn't learned to deal with her crazy. Hell, even I didn't learn how to properly deal with my crazy until I was about 22 1/2 (Don't judge me because even then, it was never of suicide/murder porportions-type crazy!)

I mean, most professional groupie hoes know the deal. Certainly yes, a good percentage of them are prone to delusions of grandeur at times a la Karrine Steffans (a.k.a.: Superhead), but I think most know that they're the side chick, and if they don't complain, stay quiet, and keep out the spot light, Celebrity Sports Dude Du Jour will hook them up handsomely, and break them off on the dickdown when they're in town; but certainly don't expect to suddenly be the new wifey, uh-huh. Best they can expect is to either find some way to harness their crazy, bottle it, and parlay that into some sort of 15 minutes, OR pray for a condom slip/delayed pull out, and try to bank on the sperm-fertilization lottery - where they can milk 18 years of ch'sup out of it. There's gotta be a handbook on this sort of thing, no???

But see, this young chick, Saleh Kazemi, obviously did not read said handbook, and just got ridiculous with it! I mean, she goes from working at D&B and driving a Kia to working at D&B and driving an Escalade. Hey, it's not that much of a step up, but baby-steps folk....baby-steps. But she wanted to go leaps and bounds expecting my man, McNair, to up and divorce wifey of 12 years (TWELVE - can we say alimony??) to marry her, keep buying her Barbie dolls and happy meals, and taking her on trips here and there to go to both Chuck E. Cheese & paragliding...?? Really?? But yes, really. She did. She didn't know her role, and decided to create her own Lifetime Orignial Movie.



Now we have another dead celebrity in our wake to mourn, and goad on about his legacy and about his brilliance on the gridiron. Part of me wants to feel sorrier for Steve though, but I just can't help but think if he'd have just kept his pinga in his pantalones, and if love would have brought him home (Toni!), I wouldn't be blogging about him right now. He could've had a hotdog, some ribs, with a side of potato salad, baked beans, and corn...and enjoyed his holiday. Only bullets he'd have had to have worried about were the stray ones being shot from the idiots who fail to heed the warnings about shooting guns instead of fireworks into the night sky...NOT the ones pointed at him point blank by the wrath of a woman scorned.

Fellas...celebrities and non-celebrities alike...let's learn from this, m'kay...Love the one you're with, and...

DON'T.



DO.



CRAZY!

To have cancer, or not to have cancer...

...that is the question my hypochondriac ass mind is trying to figure out, by comparing pictures and articles gleaned from google & wikipedia, the epicenter of ALL internet knowledge. I'm here going crazy because of a mole that I've had on the back side of my upper arm, since forever, but lately (not unlike the first time I spotted it) it looks like melanoma or something ain't right. Self-diagnosis is a bitch!!

**Dammit I should have went to medical school**

I've looked at the charts:



and I guess, my mole falls in the "normal" category, but I just feel like it looks like this:



Yikes!!

It really just looks like this:



Please excuse the mean mug...it ain't you, I'm just kinda, uh...I just hate the damn thing!! I should probably stop scaring myself with stats and pics that don't apply to my "condition" and just got get it checked out and removed if necessary.

Um...do y'all know when that whole "universal healthcare thing" supposed to kick in???

See, this is why people get and stay sick, because I just don't want to come out of pocket, for some damn mole!!

Racism in all the wrong places...

So on another random outing with my ace, Leannie, we decided to stop into a caucasian-heavy local Marshalls to kill some time. Whilst strolling the aisles, we came across decorative shelf bookends in alphabetical shapes. After debating whether or not I presently need the "K" bookends, we spotted this, for lack of a better term, "arrangement" of letters:





Coincidence?? Intentional? I'll let you be the judge!

Temptation is a bitch...

...but success kicks her ass!!

So despite my horrible, horrible, horrible family (minus my bro-in-law the only cheering me on) tempting me with

carne asada


spagetti,


pork chops,



wing stop with french fries (!!!),


pico,
(sorry no picture, but true Nicaraguans know what the hell I'm talking about!)

chocolate pudding,


and much, much more....


....I managed to stay STRONG during my 10-day attempt at the Master Cleanse (a.k.a.: The Beyonce' Dreamgirls Diet).

This makes me hate her more...damn you Beyonce and your perfect body!!!!

So I got back from Japan, and slowly but surely I saw my waistline, coming right on back, (the coke-bottle figure was starting to look a little like the Kool-Aid Man) and since I didn't have the rodeo-pro to stave off the weight, I knew something drastic had to be done before I got back to being a size I was unhappy with.

Thus after much inner-wrangling, I decided to do the Master Cleanse for 10-days. I know you're not supposed to do it to lose weight and it's all about the inner cleansing, yadi-yada...but after I heard/read that Beyonce did it for like 15 days and lost 22 lbs, I was like: "I'm on it!"

So here's a brief run down on my trial run.

(SEE HERE for the recipe, and method behind the madness).

Starting weight: (not sure, because like an asshole, I forgot to weigh in....however, I had weighed myself a few weeks earlier and at that point I was, **breathe in-breathe out**) 173 lbs.

Day One:
Horrible beginning. I woke up drank down the salt water flush, but instead of drinking 1 quart of water with 2 teaspoons of salt, I mixed in THREE TABLESPOONS. (Please never make this mistake.) After gagging this nastiness down, I decided it was far too early to be up--as I'm sooo not a morning person--and went back to bed. So, I tried to sleep, but my belly kept doing flips since this thing is supposed to make ya, ummm...go. But I couldn't, and it felt more like it wanted to come back up the way it went down, which it did unpleasantly when I brushed my teeth. NOT FUN!

Anyhoo, after that I felt better, proceeded to make my "lemonade" (of freshly squeezed lemons, grade B organic maple syrup, cayenne pepper & water) and drank my breakfast. It was tasty and pleasant enough and I enjoyed it. However, what I began to notice was that, I never before noticed how much I think about food. I was like, "ooh lunch/dinner/snack" but then realized, "nope, just lemonade." Very much a psychological brain fuck. NOT FUN!

I made it well through the day, until my oh, so thoughtful mom put on the damn Food Network (good way to tease a starving person), until I couldn't take it any longer, and ended up going to bed early @ 9:00. Did I mention: NOT FUN!

Day 2:
Attempted the salt water flush again, made it down fine (now that I properly followed directions), but it was still unpleasant to drink. I never got "hungry" per se, but I realized I missed chewing, yes just CHEWING on something. The pulp in the lemonade kinda helped, but not enough. And then I noticed that the last bit of the lemonade was the worst, because all the cayenne pepper sunk to the bottom, and it made the drink spicy and kinda yuck!

Days 3-7:
I kept it up, drinking my drank tirelessly, and resisting all the temptations and stupid jokes to make me "feel better" about my diet. It didn't help matters when my nose became this supersonic smelling machine. I once opened the microwave to make my nightly tea, and the bread fell out, and I was like, "Mmmm, bread!!!"

By day 5, the salt water was easy to drink, but then the lemonade started getting REALLY MONOTONOUS!! (Think Ben Stein's voice droning on and on forever!) I dreamt of eating real food, (even though I wasn't at ALL hungry)...and like I said, my family was sooooo unkind in my plight. But by day 7 I saw my waistline come back, and I figured I'd thug it out for one more day before I gave up, officially (especially since I was running out of maple syrup, and I just didn't want to have to buy more).

Day 8:
I soooooo didn't want to even touch the damn lemonade. Mentally, I'd already given up since I just wanted to eat already, and since I figured I'd reached my goal anyway. I drank some of it for breakfast, and filled up on water for the rest of the day, until dinner, where I made a new batch without as much cayenne pepper and a smidge more maple syrup! That was tolerable, and I looked forward to today when I could gracefully tap out of the ring!

Today:
So I woke up and weighed myself.....dun-dun-DUN! I was elated to see that I got down to 158 lbs.!!! And that's by not even making it to day 10. So approximately 15 lbs. in 8 days! I'll take that!! So now I just can't eff it up by driving to my nearest Taco Bell, like I really want to do....damn it. =(

So maybe I can really, REALLY--like for REAL-REAL, not for play-play--get to working on that New Years resolution #4. I lost the poundage, now I just gotta keep it off.

But like I said, I kicked temptation's ASS....so I deserve a cookie!

Instead though, I'll sign off with the eloquent words of the cookie connoisseur, Mr. Cookie Monster: C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me.

...a few of my favorite things...

You know so, every time I logged on there was that 25 Random Things thing making the viral rounds on facebook. I avoided it at first and then I gave in because the narcissist, that I keep tucked deep deep deep down inside, was like let's talk about YOU! So I did. Sue me!



But after I made my list of 25, I realized that there's soooo much more to me that's even more weird and quirky and strange, that for some damn reason just makes me happy to be me! So instead of adding a few more to that list which called for only 25 things (not a list 30 or more, like some other fb friends of mine did who don't follow the rules) I fiugred, let's just take it to the blog; that way, I don't seem so SUPER-narcissistic and people who don't care to read won't have to (isn't that sweetly, considerate of me??). *wink*



So without further ado:



1. I HATE when people don't keep the caps on the toothpaste! Especially, when they leave it so that toothpaste crusts around the rim of the tube. That shit is gross, and I don't see how you think you can get your mouth clean, when all kinds of (doo-doo) particles have probably landed on the opening!!!





2. Speaking of toothpaste tubes....it makes me super happy when I'm able to go from the beginning of the last drop of toothpaste always squeezing from the bottom up like it says to do on the tube. And it pisses me off, when someone ruins it by squeezing in the middle. =(






3. Hot Sauce. Vinegary, hot sauce. I swear if I could eat it in cereal, on ice cream, cake, ANYTHING...and it tasted good, I would! (for now, I'll stick to chicken wings, any meat product, rice, french fries, or anything in the salty family of foods) That shit is just deeeeelishis! Whomever invented it should get like a 1000 gold stars, and automatic entrance into heaven!






4. I like when I have a palindromic number on my odometer. I have 75457 miles on my car? Oh YEAH!!! I even like when there are number pairings that I deem cool: (61111. Sweet! 112182. Wow that's my birthday! 888888. Crazy Eights amazing!!) I've even gone out of my way to make sure no one would drive my car when I knew a good number would come up; and hate myself if I forgot to look down at the odometer when I knew one was coming up (88890...Dammit!). You may think I'm strange, but my friends understand....and they even play along with me now! lol





5. Another road game that I have is spotting interesting license plates, and I have a "Rain Man-ian" like ability to remember the license plate numbers of my friends and family. Not just the custom kind like the bitch lady to totaled my baby Zeus a few years ago who's license plate read, "MEE OOW" (<----I KID YOU NOT!! Cat lover much?!?). But simple ones like, Jezebel's "P33 4CC" and Zeus's "T25 ZIP" two of my old car plates...why do I still remember them?? Because Jezebel had 4cc's of pee (gross, nmemonic device, I know) and Zeus was zippy like The 25 year-old (I dunno it worked for me). And the one below I could NEVER forget! =)



6. In case you didn't catch on above, I like naming my cars. Every car I have ever owned has had a name:
- Rusty: My first car (1985 Osmobile Cutlass Cierra) who was appropriately named for his baby blue and rust exterior.
- Zeus: My 2nd and favorite car (1995 Nissan 200sx) a stick shift that was cute, small, fast and sporty, like me (minus the who "sporty" aspect)...lol
- Jezebel: My 3rd car (2002 Hyundai Elantra), she was burgundy and very moody, stalling at the most inopportune times...*sigh*
- Rebel: The car I'm sportin' now (1994 Jeep Wrangler) is just red, but because it's a jeep, makes me feel like I should be riding fast over some bumpy-assed terrain.


7. I REALLY like doodling my signature over and over. Now I don't have grandiose delusions of becoming famous or none of that nonsense, but I just really like my signature. Even though many of my friends say it doesn't look like anything but a bunch of loops, between you and me, I think they're secretly jealous...lol.


8. I'm addicted to "lol". I use it frequently and liberally, even if I don't literally laugh-out-loud, I just think it helps things translate better in writing/emailing/chatting/blogging (as sometimes ppl can't tell when I'm being sarcastic)...lol!


9. Uncreased books and magazines. For some reason that just makes me feel peachy! I like when I am able to read a book several times and keep it in as pristine condition as I can. Thus I hate library/used books. People just don't know how to NOT dog ear the pages. >:-(




10. Guranora Frutsu (Granola Fruits) is the best FRICKIN' cereal on the planet!!! I can sustain myself on this for days; morning, noon, evening snack and dinner! I'm petitioning that Kellogg's import this stuff from Japan for American consumption! I miss this stuff!





There ya go...10 more interesting, random tidbits about me! Don't you feel like my kin/bff, now? *wink*



Welcome to my world!! (and I can say that officially....lol)

**UPDATE**

Bonus Favorite

11. The "divots"...these are what I call the male hip slashes...mmm....just damn sexy, and are my SECOND favorite male body part, next to their......brain =) *wink*

McFatness!

We all know that McDonald's is not the corner stone of healthy, nutritional meals, but I think that if the United States were to import some of the items off of the Japanese Mickey D's menu, the obesity epidemic would skyrocket!



So, how do they keep these goodies away from the artery-clogged Americans?? They stick bits of deliciousness in the land where the the people have to make deals with the devil, AND both tempt fate and their metabolisms just to put on 2 lbs. Now somehow, I managed not to get sucked into feeding my face everyday with "Makudonarudo" while I was there, but dammit, I can't promise the same if they came over here with it. So I got to reminiscing, and boy....let's just say I got out of Japan just in time!



Let's start with the most foolish:



BEHOLD the Mega Mac!


Though it's no Quadruple Bypass...it sure could give it a run for its money! And it was quite hilarious trying to watch big and small people alike trying to take a "normal" bite of this monstrosity.

But wait...that's not all!! They also had spin-offs, because what's a Mega Mac without either a heaping, hunk of tomato or eggs inside!?!? It's Dee-lishis...apparently.



However, no talk of Japanese McDonalds' can go any further without mentioning, MY FAVORITE thing on the menu....McFlurries...mmm! Sure McFlurries, here in the good ol' US, are quite tasty in their own right, but the Japanese just take it to another level, adding more flavors to tingle your taste buds...

My two favorite...Caramel-Oreo McFlurry (on the right) Strawberry-Oreo (on the left):


Milk tea flavor, which came out right before I left (quite scrumptious!):


and

Blueberry-Oreo (mm-mm-mmm):


This one that came out AFTER I left (daaaaayum!!!) Caramel Macchiato-Kit Kat:


and, my least favorite, but perennial Japanese favorite, Matcha (Green Tea)-Oreo:


The thing that's great is that they change it up...but the thing that sucks is that if you find one you really like they take it away, far too soon. =(

You know what....on second thought....Boy, do I miss Japan!

O-BA-MA...O-BA-MA!!

We have a new president y'all!! (Did I set the movement back with that "y'all" at the end??)

Okay granted, he was elected months ago, so we all knew that, but yesterday made it official! And boy was I holding my ass, like I was watching a big game. In my last post I noted how much I love football; and along with basketball, those are the two sports that I regularly watch on TV.

So, because of this, and because of my superstitious nature, I've developed some habits that I use to ensure good luck. First of them being that I ALWAYS cross my fingers, and I keep them crossed until half-time, where I allow myself a small break. Then I re-cross for the remainder of the game. And if I must eat or use the bathroom (Yes, I can manage to wipe AND wash my hands after), best believe that the fingers remain crossed!!

And the second of my many superstitions is that I hold on to my teddy bear, Eddie Pantuso, but I only bring him out for the BIG games, where all things are on the line!!

I tend to look a little something like this:

When things are good



When things are bad



Crazy look yes, but quite effective.

If I for whatever reason uncross the fingers, or can't find Eddie during a crucial game, then I'm just about certain that my team will lose...(I'm sorry for all the Heat, Dolphins and Hurricanes losses that I may have inadvertently caused.)

Okay so with that said, and with Obama being sworn in as the 44th P.O.T.U.S. AND being the numero UNO African American President, I certainly couldn't leave things up to chance, (white some people have been known to be crazy sometimes). So I treated this like the BIG GAME...the NBA Finals, the Super Bowl, the BCS Championships times 10!

And I kept my fingers crossed and Eddie nearby as he swore in, and again as he braved walking down the pavement during the parade route; and all went relatively smooth...thanks to me!



I laughed, I cried, and I felt pure elation for the significance of this day, and witnessing this piece of history. I hope one day I can pass this story on to my children, who will hopefully have a better future, in part because of this man:

I saw London, and a BIT more than France...

Yes, I ADORE football.

I am not your average girl. I actually watch football for the love of the sport. I actually understand the game, and I can intelligibly spout off stats and commentary with the male species, without much aid from ESPN cliffs notes.

However, the difference between dudes and I, is that unlike those inflicted with a Y-chromosome, I can truly enjoy the gratuitous show of delicious bodies that show up on the gridiron week in and out for the 16 weeks in the fall (much like the umpteen women that watch only for this reason). So it was with sheer delight, and banshee shrieking that my hawkish eyes chanced upon this gem that, only symbolically **sigh**, dropped in my lap today.



Let's take a closer look...shall we??



Pause. Drool. Napkin. Wipe. Drool. Sigh. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Kinda makes you wanna drop in his lap, no??

Yes, in fact, I'll call this a belated birthday/Christmas gift, courtesy of Dominique Rogers-Cromartie, who before today, I had little knowledge of. He's a rookie, and maybe it was a rookie mistake, but I'll be waiting come Super Bowl time to see if he'll make it again!

**POST SCRIPT SIDE NOTE**

If I haven't turned you ladies out there into football fans with that...then feast on...err...allow me to introduce Minnesota Viking's tight end Visanthe Shiancoe. (<----NOT safe for work)

Y'all can thank me later...*wink*.

Quadruple by-pass burger, anyone???

There's a fat person inside all of us, but does your inner fat person know when, "Dammit I need to stop?!?!"

Now I've been tempted by some pretty tasty burgers in my day....and granted, I really enjoy eating Publix cupcakes, and Wing Stop french fries, and Cool Ranch Doritos, and sweet & sour chicken/fried rice combo... (mmmmm, excuse me whilst wipe the drool from my chin) just as much as the next overweight gal or guy, but know not to eat ALL that in one setting...and I certainly don't like to temp fate like this:




Makes me want to run to the nearest toilet bowl, just to throw up my morning bowl of Cheerios, and jog around the block a couple of times, and pull out the Billy Blanks to make sure my arteries don't start clogging. Maybe that's just me??

Grandmas tell the best stories...

So here was the exchange last night between my mother, and my visiting 3-year-old nephew when he asked her to read him a bedtime story (without the book):

Nephew: Grandma, please read me a Nemo bedtime stowwy.

My mother: Once upon a time, there was a red fish named Nemo; and I don't know what the hell happened to Nemo...

Oh poor Nemo.

There's always some truth to myths.

Nessie. Yeti. Bigfoot. Leprechauns. Unicorns. Gummy Bears. Smurfs. The One.

What do all of these things have in common? They're all mythical creatures that are impossible to find, and so you cry out "bullshit!" when you hear that someone has tracked them down. Yet despite the lack of evidence, somewhere in the crevices of your mind, you know they're out there lurking, begging to be caught, and brought to light. Now, let's add another mythical beast to the ever-growing list. Another anomaly that maybe you've heard about, maybe you haven't, but nonetheless is out there in broad daylight taunting me, and the dozens or hundreds of others that have been privy to witness the sight!

The guy who abuses bald spot concealers.

I know what you're thinking. "WTF?? There's no such thing." But I'm telling you now there is! I saw him with my own two eyes...at Walmart. Lemme explain.



**SIDE NOTE**
Rarely am I ever caught without my camera. Ever since I was a budding photojournalist in high school, I usually try to keep a camera in my purse for such rare photographic opportunities. For example, on Christmas eve, I made an appearance at church when, surprise, who walks in the door....Joel Anthony from the Miami Heat. Granted it's not the biggest catch of the day (i.e. Dwyane myfuturebabydaddy Wade), but I was the only one who got a picture thanks to my trusty camera!

SEE



And there was the time on South Beach when I was in high school, when I caught Tyson Beckford on a moped chillin', actin' all high siddidy with his old gay ass....got his picture too!!

Anyhoo, I digress...

So New Year's Eve, my buddy and partner in crime, Leannie, calls me up to head on over to Walmart to pick up a few things for our impromptu countdown party. As we were debating over chicken vs. pork, this man, this creature, his head (!!!) passed right in front of my line of vision. Needless to say I was SPEECHLESS! The absurdity. The audacity. The what-the-fuckery.

My eyes quickly sought out Leannie's to see if her reaction confirmed what I'd just witnessed. Could it be true? Was my mind playing tricks on me?? She saw it, I saw it, hell every shopper snickering in his wake saw it, and I knew we all WERE NOT hallucinating.

I had to see it again though, and as we were in the macaroni aisle, he surfaced again. There he was, in his own world talking on his cell phone, drawing even more unnecessary attention to himself, by being loud and pacing the lane like an expectant father in a hospital hallway. And upon further inspection, his absolutely bald head (save for the small tuft of hair to the top, like Homer Simpson) was plastered with the thick black paint used to cover up minor bald spots. Yes, this fool spray painted his WHOLE HEAD, and his hairline, which included a perfectly formed widow's peak, was now dripping down his face and neck (due to nervous sweating, perhaps??).

I knew then and there that I had to have a picture. This had to be immortalized. People would not believe me if I told this tale without proof. So as I reached into my purse to pull out my light blue camera (conspicuous much?) to capture this fleeting myth before me, I came up empty. Crikey!!! Just the night before, I was uploading pictures to the evil that is facebook, and had forgotten to put my camera back. And since I'm the lone person on the planet whose phone DOESN'T come with a camera, I thought all was lost....

...until Leannie came through with her phone! And she became my camerawoman dodging aisles, shelves, and shopping carts AND risked getting cussed out (since ol' painthead and his wingman got hip to game and began evading us like paparazzi) to take the picture. Granted it was probably in bad taste, and extremely rude of us to harass this man who was just trying to pick up a few Walmart goods, but on the other hand he should have known better, and should have taken a hard, cold look in the mirror before leaving the house in that state.

So without further delay, I bring to you my proof! Mind you, the pics are very much in the vein of Bigfoot & the Loch Ness Monster...a little hard to see, and blurry, but it's better than nothing.

Exhibit #1


Exhibit #2

Not quite the year of the Dolphins...

...but still a successful year nonetheless.

Granted, I wasn't here to witness the downfall of last year, nor most of the return to respectability this year, but I was catching the tail end of something special. Maybe it was too much to hope that we'd go all the way this year, after having went 1-15 last year, and having not made the playoffs since 2001, AND the fact that we haven't played in an AFC championship game since 1992.

But the fact that we DID go 11-5 this year is Cinderella story enough. Huge turnaround. Loads of respect. Had this been any other season, where we were touted highly to be the "Super Bowl or Bust" team (a la the JETS) then we, like the affore mentioned suckers, would have been a bust. And Miamians all around would curse the team, and prepare themselves to hop off the flaming bandwagon until the party got roaring again. (Yeah, I have to admit, that Miami-fans, of ALL sports, are the worse at supporting the teams when they suck. There's no Bostonian/Chicagoan pride here. Uh-uh. You lose. You suck. We'll holla at ya when there're more W's posted.)

But this year, no one suspected a season this good. One might've thought a mediocre turn around, but I doubt anyone thought playoffs, much less a winning record. So though we lost today, it's not a loss to weep over. We can still hold our heads high. We enjoyed the ball since we were lucky to have been invited. Now we'll just feast on smashed pumpkins, pick up our glass slipper, and tuck it away until next year to give us the motivation to get to the big dance.