Tuesday Thought #1

Tuesday Thought #3

Tuesday Thought # 3

Tuesday Thought #2

Grown Men Could Learn Something From Nico

Emily Nash is sixteen and an avid golfer; she recently finished a Massachusetts high school golf tournament competition, where she was the only girl playing, with the best score.

Good for her, but ... rules set by the Massachusetts Interscholastic Athletic Association prevented her from getting the first-place trophy because ... wait for it ... she’s a girl. The girl with the best score; the best one playing; but not good enough for a trophy because she doesn’t have a penis. Oh, and let’s not forget that Emily’s score, again, the best score, was used to contribute to her school’s overall team score, but she was not recognized as an individual player, again, because of her gender.

Luckily, Nico Ciolino, who got the second-best score, and received the championship trophy instead, because he’s male, is more aware and grown-up than the Massachusetts Interscholastic Athletic Association:

“I felt a little bit awkward. It felt like I cheated in a sense because I didn’t win and I got the trophy. It didn’t feel right with me. I felt bad. It’s so hard winning tournaments. … It’s just so tough when you finally win and you get the results that you worked so hard for and then it’s like, ‘Oh wait, you can’t win. You’re a girl.’”

And so he offered the trophy to Emily, who was touched by his gesture ... 

“He came over and said he didn’t win the tournament, that I did. It was really nice of him and respectful”

 ... but politely declined.

Nico says:

“I like to call myself a good golfer, but it’s very hard to win in the tournaments I play in, so it’s very hard for me to kind of say, you know, give up the trophy ... But I knew that she deserved it. She beat me fair and square. It was the right thing to do. She won. It didn’t mind me that she was a girl. We played from the same tees. We played in the same conditions.”

Again, too bad the adults running the tournament were as, well, aware, as Nico.

Soulful

Random Musings

You never know when something’s just gonna hit you, and kind of wreck you ... like The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, my sister, and me.

See, the other night I was watching RHoBH with my favorite housewife Erika Girardi AKA Erika Jayne. Erika can sometimes appear aloof and cold, but this week she was talking about her grandmother dying of Alzheimer’s and how they talked all the time on the phone, until the calls because fewer then finally stopped as the disease took her grandmother’s mind and memories.

So, how does this relate to my sister? Well, it’s like this ... I last saw my sister when we went to California in August of 2014—she passed away in February 2015. At that time she and I talked, and she’d decided she wasn’t doing any more chemo or any more radiation; she knew it was a losing battle and she wanted to be ‘there’ in every sense of the word for her family. And so she told me to not come back out and see her, that she wanted me to remember her as she was in August. Then she made me promise that if I ever called her and she didn’t seem aware and didn’t seem to know what was going on, that she didn’t want me to call again; she didn’t want me to feel uncomfortable about the calls.

But I called, and she did seem oftentimes confused; and when I called during Christmas of that year, six weeks before she passed, she didn’t seem to know who I was; we chatted and I told her that Carlos and I were thinking n of her and she said, “Carlos?” And I knew; she, my sister, was no longer there, that the cancer had spread and she was forgetting things. And I remembered what she said about calling and so I didn’t call again.

And then she was gone.

I felt guilty ever since then because I think I should have called, if not to hear her, but so she could hear me, and it wasn’t until seeing an episode of RHoBh this week that I realized, she didn’t know me, wouldn’t know me, and all the call would do is further break my heart.

So, I cried a little watching that show, but now I feel better because, once again, my big sister was doing right by me, and watching out for me.

Just sayin’.

On to other things ... Tom Hanks recently sent a gift to the White House press room: a new espresso machine and a note:

"To the White House Press Corps

Keep up the good fight for Truth, Justice, and the American Way.

Especially for the Truth part."

I love that ... especially the ‘truth’ part because it will be the press that brings this president down and I will be thankful to them for it.

Last weekend we installed a new toilet in the master bathroom and, as we do, we do things wrong and then right them. But I tried to nip that in the bud this time and demanded that Carlos read the instructions first, and he said he did.

I should’a known ... as I unpacked the new toilet, I found this rubber seal, and I noticed it was to be set between the tank and the toilet base to prevent water from leaking out. I showed it to Carlos and told him what it was, and he replied that it was the ‘wax ring’ that goes under the toilet, attached to the flange.

Flange! Look at me all builder-y and shiz.

Anyway, I said, “It’s not a wax ring; we bought the wax ring when we bought the toilet. It’s rubber, and goes between the tank and the base.”

“No, it’s the wax ring.”

Then I showed him the illustrated instructions and the drawing of the rubber ring being placed between the toilet and the tank to prevent leakage.

Score one for me!

Then, as the toilet came together and the water was hooked up, Carlos was all excited until he realized that the seat needed to be attached to the toilet before the tank went on because you had to attach it from underneath. So, he’s on the floor, nestled between the toilet and the wall, and trying to put a rubber bolt up under the toilet to catch the screw that would hold the seat in place. I suggested that was odd, because if we ever had to replace the seat, we’d have to take the tank off the toilet to do so and that seemed dumb, but Carlos said that was how it was done.

“Did you read the instructions?”

“Yes, I know this is the way it goes.”

“Did you READ the instructions?”

“Yes!”

I get the instructions and we look at them and then Carlos says, and pardon his French, “I’m a f**king idiot.”

See, the rubber bolt is pushed through a hole in the top of the toilet base, then the seat is set in place and then the screw goes in so that, if you need to replace the seat you don’t take the toilet apart.

“I’m a f**king idiot,” he says again.

“Yes, you are,” I say, and we sat on the bathroom floor and laughed until we nearly peed ... with the toilet almost ready for us to use.

Remember when the Republicans would slam Obama when he played golf, and seem t suggest that he played more golf then acted as president? And remember that Donald _____ was one of his biggest critics about the golf?

“This guy plays more golf than people on the PGA Tour.” 

And after visiting flooded Louisiana, _____ accused Obama of playing a game rather than caring about the country even though those in charge in Louisiana asked the Obama to stay away for security reasons:

“Honestly, Obama ought to get off the golf course and get down there.” 

And then, during a 2016 campaign event in Virginia _____ promised that if he were elected he was “not going to have time to go play golf. I’m going to be working for you, I’m not going to have time to go play golf.”

Huh, then please to explain how the good folks at NBC did the math and have come up with the FACT that _____ is more apt to be on a golf course than in the Oval:

“Over the last five weekends [since he’s been in office], the president has visited his luxury resort four times – each trip costs American taxpayers about $3 million – and as of last night, Trump had spent 31% of his presidency at Mar-a-Lago.  He’s now played golf eight times since taking office six weeks ago.”

Eight rounds of golf in six weeks! And let's not forget the nearly ten million dollars it's cost We The People to let him got South every single weekend! How much will that be come impeachment day is anybody’s guess.

Years back I saw Malcolm McDowell in time After Time, the story of HG Wells and his Time Machine, and how Jack the Ripper steals the machine and travels to modern day San Francisco where his grisly murders pale in comparison to the violence of the 1970s.

Well, the movie has become a TV series with Jack the Ripper arriving in 2017 New York City and HG Wells hot on his trail ... hot being the operative word because Wells is played by British actor Freddie Stroma.

Hot and British. Yum.

Paul Burrell, Princess Diana’s former butler , has come out as gay and announced this week that he’ll be marry lawyer Graham Cooper after divorcing his wife of 32 years some six months ago.

Burrell made a name for himself after Diana’s death when he wrote a tell-all book about their personal relationship and then appeared in a string of reality TV shows like I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here! 

A source says Burrell and Cooper will be having an opulent, circus-themed wedding ceremony so, naturally, we’d like to send along a Coming Out Getting Married Toaster Oven, perfect from crumpets, and a copy of The Gay Agenda.

Welcome out and congratulations!

Carlos dubs these photos as proof that Tuxedo and MaxGoldberg are homosexual cats. I think they just like to stay warm on cool mornings and Consuelo is not a snuggler.