Call me Erma

At times I like to think of myself as the modern day Erma Bombeck.  For those of you who don't know who Erma is, she was a woman of wisdom, that would pass on her knowledge to others like tiny golden nuggets.  See how I would think of myself?  Ha.  So today I have decided to include a list of suggestions that will brighten up your life, and keep things classy.
Kristina's Pearls of Wisdom:
1)  I don't care how thin you are.  If you are wearing a denim skirt, or any skirt for that matter, it should be long enough to cover your triangle.  Standing up, sitting down, twirling around.  Keep it covered.
2) Lucite heels will never be classy.  Ever.  I don't care if they come adorned with flashing LED's or have goldfish in the platform.
3) Tube tops should be illegal.
4) So should the Pajama Jean.
5) Jumpsuits don't look good on anyone.  Even the ones made completely out of denim.
So there you have it.  If you live by these suggestions, you should be in fairly decent shape.  Come back next week when I discuss the dos and don'ts of halter tops.  Until next time my friends, keep those triangles covered.  :)

(I am an) Oxymoron

Sometimes I feel as if I am a walking, talking oxymoron.  You know, like "jumbo shrimp", or, well, that's the only one that is coming to mind right now.  Cut me some slack.  I haven't had a full cup of coffee yet.  But I was thinking the other day how sometimes I can be a bit of an oxymoron.  It's like I'm pensively impulsive.  Once I get an idea in my head, I usually mull it over for quite some time, but then out of the blue when I least expect doing it, I, well, do it.  Let me give you a few examples.  A few years ago I got it into my head that I should be a brunette.  This thought randomly (odd, I know) popped into my head after happily being a blonde for nearly thirty years.  I thought about it for months-almost close to a year-and then one day I went in to get a hair cut and came out of the salon with some sassy new brown locks.  I had no intention of actually doing it that day, but low and behold I did it.  Then there's my knitting escapades.  I read a book about knitting (it was a stimulating read, let me tell you), and I thought to myself, "Self, you could do that.  You could knit everyone fancy ensembles."  So I again thought it over for a few weeks, and then one day as I was driving down Elm Creek Boulevard I suddenly high tailed it into Joanne Fabrics and bought me enough yarn to knit a whole village some stylish new pants.  The part where I then went home and taught myself how to knit via Youtube, is a whole other story that involves swearing, crying, and seeing how far that ball of tangled yarn could fly across the room.
And then there's painting, learning how to play the piano, and starting a blog (hey now).  I have a list of thoughts that are swimming around in the old noggin, and I'm pretty sure I'll eventually do at least some of them out of the blue one day.  That's just how I work.  Get an idea in my head.  Think it over obsessively.  Put it on the back burner.  And then one day as I'm knitting a new scarf, I'll throw down my knitting needles, storm out the door, and go and get a tattoo.  (Yup.  That actually is something that's been a consideration for quite some time.  I just don't know if I'll still be happy with a rainbow breathing dragon when I'm in my sixties.  I kid, I kid.  It's actually an badger.)
So, if one day you happen to see me snapping some pictures around town while Lenny helps me adjust the light by holding up sun shields, or you hear me schooling someone about astronomy while sporting my amazing badger tattoo, you'll know that I impulsively did something new.... after thinking about it for sixteen years. :)

Kickin' the bucket

I have a "list", which I think most of us do.  The list that I speak of is the list of things that I would like to do before I drop dead.  Today I would like to share with you some of those things from my list, because I'm a firm believer that once I put something into print, it will eventually get accomplished.  It helps me stay organized, on-track, and adds to my neurotic-ness.  Here it goes:
*I seriously want to be in a Flash Mob.  That older post was no joke.  Tell me the time and place, and I will be there.  Probably wearing something with sequins and that has sparklers shooting out of the shoulder pads.  If I'm going to do it, I'm doing it big.  As the saying goes, "Go big, or go home."
*I want to be a zombie extra on 'The Walking Dead', because I think having the chance to look like the living dead without actually being the living dead would be simply awesome.
*I want to see the Grand Canyon, but when I do I want to holler as loud as I can just so I can hear my echo.  Haven't decided what I would holler yet, though...
*I want to hold a panda.  Leonard tells me impossible, I tell him, it shall be done.
*I want to hold a starfish.
*I want to go for a ride on a Harley.... Not one of those scary, crotch rockets that is death on wheels, but rather a big, lumbering death on wheels that has flames painted on the side, and possibly an eagle.
*I want to see La Pieta in person, visit the Vatican, touch the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, tap dance on the Great Wall in China, roll down a giant green hill in Ireland, and throw confetti off the top of the Eiffel Tower.  I figure all of this can be done if I load myself with enough Xanax to tranquilize a horse to get myself ready for all of the scary plane rides.
These are just a few things, but I'm going to try my best at accomplishing them all.  I hope to add a lot more to the list too.  So, here's to filling up your buckets. :)

Cinderella can suck it

There are a handful of blogs that I frequent on a daily basis, and the majority of those blogs are run by women that are practically Disney characters.  You know the type.... size 2, tan, can sew together a beautiful ensemble out of curtains, while baking elegant looking cupcakes, while playing a complicated piece on the piano with their toes.  They are one singing blue bird short of becoming the next Pixar character.  In other words, they are everything that I am not.  And I'm okay with it.  You see, I'm the type of girl that almost always has a stain smack dab on the boobage area of my shirt because coffee is attracted to it like a magnet, and Lean Cuisines tend to be like molten lava when I'm trying to shovel it into my mouth.  I'm the type of girl that glows like an albino in every picture that is taken of me, and the closest character that I can relate to is Powder.  And I'm the type of girl that can take something as simple as making a "fancy" grilled cheese sandwich, and turn it into an inedible lump of goo.  So today I'm just laying it all out there.  I will never be perfect, or come across as someone that is.  The only thing that I can cook successfully is coconut fried chicken (*toot toot* <--- Me.  Tooting my own horn.  It's amazing), or anything that comes pre-assembled in a bag or a box.  My idea of sewing is something that resembles a knotted mess.  I once attempted to fix a fallen hem by scotch tapping it, and when that didn't work I resorted to stapling it.  I kid you not.  So even though I will never be able to offer you culinary awesomeness on this page, or give you step-by-step directions on how to create a pant suit out of an old doily, I will be able to give you great laundry advice on how to get out a marinara stain that's on the front of a white tee-shirt (you throw the shirt out and head up to Target to buy a new one), or that Gorilla Glue works best when trying to mend a hole that you have in a sweater.  Now you must excuse me.... I have to go prepare dinner, and from experience hot dogs take at least an hour to thaw before you slap one on the old George Foreman. :)

Oh, sparkles!

Here is my latest nail jobaroo adventure....

All fingers except my ring fingers are painted with Sally Hansen's Mint Sorbet.
Ring fingers were 'painted' with Martha Stewart's glitter: Turquoise, feldspar, verdalite, and golden beryl were all blended to give it a "rainbowy" affect.

A hand model, I am not.  :)

5 random thoughts of the day...

Here are a few thoughts that have popped up in my head lately:
1) I think geese are the puppies of the bird world. I want to squeeze one but I have a great fear that it would peck my eyes out.
2) I think joggin' pants are both wonderful and hilarious, and must be worn yanked up to your arm pits.
3) I think crawfish are disgusting and the thought of touching one makes me shudder.
4) I hate carnations, and when I die, and someone dares to send/bring me a carnation, I will come back and haunt them.
5) I would like to put Sven Sundgarrd (one of the MN weathermen), on a keychain and dangle him from my rearview mirror because he reminds me of a leprechaun, and I'm fairly certain he is magical.
*Sven Sungarrd.  Get in my pocket.

:)

Kristina & Tiara's

This post is not dedicated to that hot mess of a reality show called 'Toddler's and Tiara's', because I think it's gross for a four year old to resemble a Hooters Girl that wears way more make up.  Instead this post is going to focus on my love of tiara's.  I love them.  A lot.  If you ever hear me complain about a stiff neck, it's probably because I wore my three footer around the house again (cleaning toilets has never been more fun.  Or classy.)  I believe my love for sparkly jewels adorning my gigantic head came into play when my mom bought me the Princess Diana paper doll book.  In that book they saved the best paper cut-out for the last.  It was a paper replica of the tiara that Di wore on her big day, marrying the hobbit.  I ever so carefully tore the crown out along the perforated line, and then carefully placed it on my head, vowing to myself that I would someday own a real crown.  So I did what any normal child would do.  I wrote letters to the tooth fairy telling her that she could save her money.  I wanted the good stuff.  I wanted a crown straight from the fairy diamond mines.  After many years, (it was probably more like a month, but when you're a kid and you want something bad enough, time stands still), I received a beautiful "diamond" ring in my tooth fairy pillow with a note from the tooth snatcher.  The note pretty much read as follows, "The ring is easier to fit into the pillow pocket.  Sorry kid."  I kid, I kid.  The note was much for eloquent than that, but after I got the ring I stopped trying to pull out random grown up teeth from my head writing to the tooth fairy.  I later learned that the tooth fairy was *gasp* my mother, who had called or gone into every party planning place, costume department store, and costume jewelry store in all of WNY, and still could not find one.
As luck would have it, when I got to be a teenager, tiara's suddenly were popping up in places like 'Claires'.  My dream was becoming a reality!  I could finally own a tiara and wear one around the house with pride!  I wore a tiara to my prom.  I even wore one on my wedding day.  And as I divulged to you earlier, I wear one while I clean the house.  If I go into a department store and they have a stack of crowns, you can bet your bottom dollar that my eyes will turn into large saucers and I will plop one down on my head.  Possibly twirl.  Definitely snap a picture or two (*See below).
Tiara's will always hold a special place in my heart.  And don't even get me going about feather boa's and letters to the Easter Bunny..... :)

These are my confessions....

No, this is not an ode to Usher, but rather random confessions of things that took me a while to realize.  Here it goes....
1) I used to think that when airplanes lost their engines, it meant that they literally fell off of the plane and plummeted down to earth.  I always wondered how they didn't end up killing someone down below, or caused mass destruction.  I won't even tell you how long it took me to figure out that it actually meant that a planes engine just stopped working.
2) I once saw a beautiful gaggle of albino geese flying high in the sky.  Haven't heard of an albino goose before?  Yeah, well that's probably because they were a flock of swans.  Um.  Yeah.
3) One time I was driving down Niagara Falls Boulevard with Lenny and we saw a fireman standing in the middle of the street holding a boot, and I giddily exclaimed to Lenny, "Oh my goodness!  That man lost his boot in the middle of the street!  I wonder where the other one is?!"  Never mind the fact that there was a group of firemen lining the streets taking a collection.  Which they collected in their boot. (This was right after 9/11).
4) As I was driving down the thruway not too long ago I saw a billboard that said "HIRE ME!", proceeded by a number to call.  My first thought was, "Omg...that's brilliant!  What a way to advertise yourself for a job!"  My second thought was, "Geez, that must be super expensive to do.  They should just post their resume on Monster.com."  And thought number three, which finally sunk in many moons later, "Oh.  I get it.  It's a billboard for people that are interested in advertising."  Whoops.
Because I am secure in my randomness, I figured I would share away.  Now, don't leave me standing here all alone.  Did you ever have a "DUH?" moment?  And don't you fret my pet.  I have plenty more where that came from.  I'm just saving them for another day.  And for the record, I don't like to think of these thoughts as stupidity, but just me thinking outside of the box.  Way, way, wayyyyyy outside of the box. :)

Boner, cheeks, and poofs

I have a list of words that make me want to *HORF* in my mouth, and another list of words that I like to incorporate into my every day vernacular.  The list that makes me want to vomit shall be omitted from this post, for the simple reason that I know all too well that most of you would go out of your way to use THOSE words in front of me, as often as possible.  Some of you already know what those words are and already torture me by using them.  But now I present to you a list of words that make me smile.  Here it goes....
* Boner Stabone (may he RIP).  In the future I plan on getting a Dachshund (aka-a weiner dog), and name him Boner Stabone.  I look forward to the day when I can whistle for my dog and holler, "Heel, Boner."
*Weiner I don't think I even need to explain this one.  I don't care if I'm an adult.  The word makes me laugh.  Every. Single. Time.
*Cheeks Go ahead and say it out loud, and tell me that it's not glorious.  I dare you.
*Poofs Pure fun-ness.
*Scrumptious A word that I often refer to my four legged children as.
*Cacophony Sounds musical and makes you sound like a genius. 
*Groovy A word that should never, ever be retired.  Ever.
That's just a tid bit.  Oh, that's another one.  How about you?  Do you have a word that you just love to say?  How about the ones that make you want to barf in your mouth, or punch a wall?  To be fair I will tell you one of the words that just make my fists instantly ball up.  Wicked.  Seriously.  Retire it.  And when someone says, "That's wicked awesome", it makes me want to jam a fork into my ears so I don't have to hear it being said.  So there you have it friends.  I have to get going now because there is a groovy looking weiner dog walking down the street, and I'd like to give him a scrumptious treat.  :)

Lykke Li, Me Lykke Lots

Two of my favorite songs from one of my favorite artists.  Enjoy. :)

Pretty as a pin...

Some of my favorites from this weeks' pinterest.com :)

And my absolute favorite :) ....

Devil Fingers

I have already posted a small list about things that give me the hee-bee-gee-bees, but there is one thing that I have not yet mentioned, and that my dear friends, are devil fingers.  What are devil fingers, you might ask?  Well, let me paint you a little picture.  One day as I was driving along with my husband, I noticed something slicing through the air that made me cringe, throw my hands over my eyes, and exclaimed, "DEVIL FINGERS!!!!" in ridiculous terror.  Devil fingers are simply..... wait for it.... wind turbines.  Just when you thought I couldn't top myself in the crazy department, huh?  Where did this irrational fear stem from?  No, I did not eat lead paint as a child.  This one I blame solely on my husband. :)  You see, once upon a time Leonard used to play this awful video game called 'Silent Hill', and I would sit and watch him play because I thought it was creepy and scary.  In other words, I apparently loved giving myself nightmares.  Anywhoozle.... there are multiple bad guys in the game, but there is one freakneak in particular that carried around a large blade that resembled a blade from a wind turbine, and it simply scared the crap out of me.
So fast forward to our scenic tour of fields and wind turbines, and when I saw them it reminded me of the game.  They look like devil fingers.  As in they would come alive if you got too close, and slash you into little pieces.  Come on.  Tell me I'm wrong.  Just LOOK at them.  They look like long creepy fingernails attached to a steely arm.

And THIS is the Silent Hill dude that made me just a touch more crazy:

So consider this reason number 692 of why I am a bit of a nutjob, but quite honestly these are the random thoughts that make me, well, me.  So the next time you are driving past a field and there is a smattering of wind turbines, just know that at night they do come alive, and they will come after you with their long, scary devil fingers.

The end. :)

I'll be back...

This week I will be taking a breather from blogging because I will be presenting at a conference titled "How to be extra awesome in life when you are afflicted with a random thought process". And when I say that I am presenting, I mean that I'll be handing out large buttons that say in big bold letters "Kiss me, I'm Irish Awesome". I will be returning next week where I will fill you in on this weeks deets, as well as any other random thought that pops into the ole bean.
Until next time, my faithful followers. Stay classy. And awesome. :)

Gettin' nailed

What?  I'm talking about getting my nails done.  I loooooove painting my nails different colors and styles.  They might be bright pink, yellow with metallic crackle paint, or my newest "give it a whirl nail jobaroo" newspaper print.  Seen here :)

It doesn't matter if I'm having a fat day.  It doesn't matter if I'm feeling extra muffin toppy, or that my bicep might continue to wave long after my hand has stopped.  My nail size isn't ever going to change.  I never ask Leonard, "Does this polish make me look fat?"  It's a one size fits all, fit for people that are shaped like apples, pears, and fruit baskets alike.  Kind of refreshing.  My talons of delight can reflect my mood, or even change it.  Sounds silly, I know.  But every once in a while if I glance down at my lady fingers and see that they look all sparkly and fun, it puts a smile on my face.  Something as simple as nail polish can be a bit of a happy boost.  What makes you feel all sparkly and new?  Hats? Sunglasses? A pair of jeggins?  A unitard, perhaps?  Let me know what makes you feel oh so pretty. :)

It's your lucky day...

...Because I have decided to grace you with TWO new posts today.  You're welcome. :)  Below are a few things that I found on pinterest.com that made me literally "lol".  For realsies.  Hope you get a teeny kick out of 'em.

Smooth moves and table tops

After yesterdays post about bosoms, I couldn't help but think back to my childhood and think of other random stories about Yours Truly.  You see, I am an only child, so while growing up I had a lot of "me" time, and had to figure out ways to keep myself entertained.  I would often play with Barbie's, color in coloring books, and dance on the top of my grandparents picnic table.  My grandparents had a bright green picnic table that was placed in our backyard, and when I thought I was alone I would climb atop the table, sing at the top of my lungs, and do the shimmy.  I was a dancer, and the picnic table was my stage.  I had moves that would've made Fred Astaire weep with pride.  I had moves that made my mom and my grandmother weep from laughter.  My grandfather, on the other hand, was apparently horrified by my magnificent moves, having fears that his granddaughter would grow up to be an entertainer.  That would dance on tables.  :)  You see, all the while I was happily displaying spirit fingers and kicking high into the air, my family was watching me from the family room window, simply observing my antics.
Flash forward twenty-something years later, and even though I've got the magic in me, and am a dancing fool, I have retired my table dancing ways (much to my grandpa's relief).
I leave you with a clip of the 1920's dance version of the shimmy.  My moves mostly resembled that of the dancing lady in sparkles.  Enjoy :)

Cross my heart

When I was a kid, I was a bit obnoxious.  Surprising, I know.  I remember being about six or seven and shopping in the AM&A's basement with my mom and auntie, and I would always, always, make a bee-line for the super duper, extra large, enormously huge, shockingly white, over the shoulder boulder holders. Without fail.  While my mom and aunt would be perusing the racks, I was adorning my own. Oh yes, I would strap on the triple H contraption (over my Strawberry Shortcake tee, of course), and casually walk around the department store until I was noticed by my mother.  Once they finally caught a glimpse of my new attire (it never took long), my mom would try to coerce me to put the gigantic bra back (in between snorts of laughter), and my aunt would just encourage me even more, by shuffling me back to the bra section, trying to find an even bigger one.  It was hard to be discouraged from continuing this random act of obnoxiousness, when I was being encouraged with the laughter of my dear old mummsie, and my auntie.  I think I finally stopped this part of my shopping routine when I was about nine, and moved on to greener pastures (and less embarrassing ones), like trying on the largest and most ridiculous hat I could find, and trying to convince my mom that I really do need a magenta hat with the feather, bow, and netting strewn across my face.
Now that I'm an adult I wouldn't dare display this kind of behavior while shopping (except for the hat part.  I always try on large hats, because who could resist  a hat that resembles the rear end of a peacock? Not this lady, that's who), but every time I walk past the "delicates" section of a department store, I can't help but get a warm and fuzzy feeling, and smile to myself about the hijinks that I would pull as a kid. :)
So, were you a little weirdo like me when you were a peanut?  What did you find hilarious when you were a kid?  Drop me comment. :)

Yankee Doodle Dandy

So yesterday was the 4th of July, and I did what most Americans did.  I ate a hotdog.  I watched fireworks.  I swore like a sailor at the mosquitos that bit my elbows even though I applied 763 coatings of OFF on my delicate, apparently delicious, mosquito attracting skin.  Little bastards.  But then as the night wound down (meaning it was past 11 o'clock and I was about to get my jammie-jams on), I morphed into an old man.  Like I do every 4th of July.  And when I say "old man", I mean a person akin to sitting on their front porch with a hose, that sprays and yells at any of the little turds that dare step foot on the front lawn.  Except replace a hose with a bullhorn, and a back deck for a front porch.  You see, when the hubs and I got home I foolishly assumed that all festivities were over.  I stomped out any smoking sparklers, put the leftover poppers into the junk drawer for next year, neatly folded up my "It's AmeriCAN not American't" tee-shirt, and poked my dog to make sure that he was still alive after the sedative that was given to him to make sure he wouldn't die from fright.  And just as I was about to drift off to slumberland where I would dream about how I would successfully obliterate every mosquito that ever dared to live, *BOOM* *POW* *KABLEWIE*  Someone didn't get the memo that after the "grand finale" you are to retire your giant sparklers that go "boom".  One dog starts whining, and the other one gets the trembles, and I get my grandpa stance on.  I then proceed to stomp out onto my back porch and watch as fireworks explode practically onto my house because some folks want to see one more glittery poof of an explosion.  It's a terrifying sight.  Me.  With sock monkey pajamas standing firmly with my hands on my hips, and a scowl on my face.  I'm sure the people who were shooting off the fireworks were terrified as they caught glimpses of my "business face" in the sparkly bursts of red, purple, and gold.  I would sick the dogs on them but they were too busy having a mini stroke and a panic attack.
So next 4th of July you will see me twirling down the street with a sparkler in one hand, and a hotdog in another.  But once that clock strikes twelve, watch out, 'cause I'm bustin' out the hose. :)

Put a pin in it...

So, I've recently discovered this cool site called pinterest.com, where it has thousands of pictures of DYI, recipe ideas, home decor ideas, and things that are just pur-tty.  I've decided that each week I'm going to post some of my random favorites from the site.  Enjoy! :)

Sneaks and stilettos

If you were to ever peruse my closet you would probably first notice that my wardrobe is ROY G. BIV'd out, going from summer to winter, and then you would probably stop looking because it's fairly boring.  My weekend attire usually consists of jeans, a tee-shirt, and sneaks.  In other words, I generally dress fairly casual, but deep down inside I love all things that are frilly, glittery and fabulous.  When I was a teenager I would pour over magazines like Vogue, dreaming of wearing all things poofy.  Flash forward a decade later, and poofy dreams have been replaced with glamorous things like paying the mortgage, and remembering to take the car in for an oil change (ie: real life)  Now every once in a while I will step out of my comfort zone of tee-shirts and hoodies, and splurge on a cardigan or shirt that has frills, sequins, or poofs.  If I'm really feeling adventurous it will sport all three.  The more it resembles a cupcake, the better.  To give you an idea(r) about the things that make me mutter "hello, lov-ah" a-la Carrie Bradshaw, I've included a few pictures.  These are items that I will never own, but are still fun to oggle over.
If I ever win the lottery, I plan on meeting Elie Saab, and having him design my lounge wear, that I plan on wearing around the house.  I need to look classy while I sit on my chaise lounge while I am fanned with palm fronds.  These are a few of his cupcakey, beautiful creations :)

And then there's the shoes.... You can't forget the shoes...

Miu Miu Mary Janes.  Just click your heels three times.

Loubouton for Rodarte.  It's a practical shoe.  One part glamour, one part weapon. :)
So the next time you see me sportin' my Chucks and a white tee-shirt (that probably has coffee stains on it), just know that on the inside I am rocking a frilly gown and shoes that I would probably snap an ankle in. :)

*Photos courtesy of "Cupcakes and Cashmere" and "Elle.com"

Kentucky Fried Cruelty and Seal Sammies

I am a woman of many convictions.  No, I don't mean being thrown in the clink and having a wrap sheet, I mean the other type of convictions.  You know, sticking to my word and beliefs.  Just as I am random with many things in my life, it also applies to the things that I believe in with a deep seeded passion, and there is nothing that no one can do or say to sway the way I feel.  For those of you that know me, know that I love animals.  I every time there is an ASPCA commercial on t.v. I have to put the "mute" button on, and stare off into the distance, because those sad faces make me cry. Every. Single. Time.  I CANNOT stand the thought of any animal being mistreated and/or abused.  Makes me want to bust out the *Hulk Hands (*see previous post).  Now, my love for animals leads into some of my convictions.  And once I believe in something, good luck trying to change my mind.  Just a little FYI-sie, it won't happen.  One of these convictions is that I will never, ever eat Kentucky Fried Chicken. Ever.  Why, you might be wondering?  Well, let me paint you a little picture....I was a vegetarian for almost six years, and even though I am back to being a carnivore, I still hold a special place in my heart for animals.  So when I hear about an animal purposefully being mistreated, I stay away from those places and pump my fist in the air and figure out how I can make a change.  I will sign petitions, get other people to jump on the band wagon, and try to spread the word about these places that are simply preposterous.  One of those places happens to be KFC.  Now, don't let the charming fellow sporting a limp bow tie try to fool you.  The chicken distributors for KFC in the United States are notoriously known for torturing the chickens that they use that turn into the golden fried goodness in a bucket.  PeTA has been on the rampage against the business for years, trying to get them to change a way in which they slaughter their chickens that are used for consumption.  To date, chickens are said to have their beaks cut off and feathers plucked while they are still alive.  That's just plain gross and cruel.  Now, I'm not an idiot.  I know that the meat that I consume comes from a living, breathing creature (which makes me feel guilty any time I ever really think about it), but there is a humane way of doing things, and then there's that. So, even though the chicken bowls look scrumptious, I will never, ever eat KFC.
Another thing that I stick to my guns to, is not eating seafood that is exported from Canada during the winter months.  The reason why, is because during those winter months, many of the fishing companies in Canada club seals simply to earn money for their furs.  Another senseless, pointless, cruel act that is completely unnecessary.  The reason why I stay away from seafood imported from oh-Canada is because the profit earned from products sold, goes into the pockets of the companies that are killing seals.  If you don't buy their product, then you don't fill their pockets.  A simple way to hopefully impact their overall thinking of what they are doing.

I know today's post isn't funny, and I'm sure some of you are rolling your eyes over what I just "preached" about, but the fact is, what I stand for is in fact, a random fact about me.  And that's the point of this whole blog thing.  If I can't share about the randomness that is in fact me, then what's the point. I've attached some links that have more information about what I've just talked about.  If it tickles your fancy, check it out.  If it doesn't, well then take away from it what you will.  My question to you is, is there something that you strongly believe in?  If so, drop me a comment. :)
Visit: http://www.kentuckyfriedcruelty.com/ to learn more about KFC,
 http://www.humanesociety.org/issues/seal_hunt/ to learn more about what you can do to put an end to the killing of seals,
and http://www.aspca.org/ to help a furry friend :)