Muffin Madness

I have an odd fascination with many things, one of them being the word "muffin". My fixation ran rampant when I lived in Buffalo and was shared by my then roommate Lisa. I had a bulletin board where I would pin up a variety of paper bags with the word muffin on it. Keep in mind that this was the late 80's and muffins were trumping bagels as the morning snack of choice until the truly unhealthful benefits of eating one became shameful. My obsession did not lie in the muffin itself, but in a humorous metaphor for a woman's vagina.

Anyhow, I have never understood why someone insists on wearing an article of clothing which reveals an unsightly midriff that rolls over the edge of their pants just like the top of a muffin sits over the edge of its paper case. I had heard the phrase "muffin top" before, but was blissfully unaware that this look had already been coined by Australian comediennes Kath&Kim.

As a tall apelike woman was exiting my place of employment this evening I saw that garish bulge of pasty skin as she was coming down the escalator. I turned to walk away and overheard a co-worker use a variation which I prefer much better. He called it a "muffin roll".

So if you should find yourself puzzled and in a similar scenario but just couldn't find an appropriate turn of phrase, try "muffin roll" on for size and you just might find you have the right fit.

Pretty Poison

When people think of a valentine flower, they usually think of roses, and red ones at that. That is because the rose is a symbol of love. In honor of said tradition and floriculture's use of pesticides, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to pen a variation of the Roses are red poem:

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
These have been sprayed with pesticides,
And can be harmful to you.

My vote is for the exchange of love notes or chocolates. Any questions?

Blonde Ambition

The tragic life of Anna Nicole Smith came to an end this afternoon after her private nurse found her unresponsive at the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino. I was in the midst of my lunch break when one of my co-worker's popped into the break room to say that his brother had just called with the news.

At first it seemed unreal. Not to be insensitive, but does anyone go to the Hard Rock Hotel these days? I went to the nearest computer terminal to verify this information as I happen to work in an establishment where the breakroom is littered withh the latest copy of US Weekly, People and Star magazine. Sure enough the front page headline of CNN.com confirmed this.

Odd as it may be, I couldn't help but thinking she was our generation's incarnation of Marilyn Monroe. Smith leaves behind a five-month-old daughter, Dannielynn Hope Marshall Stern and an empty bottle of Trim-Spa.

Fix That Tarnished Crown

Baby I'm a Star

I made it into the Wearwolves section of RedEye today. This free commuter daily for the city of Chicago was introduced a couple years ago as a sibling imprint of The Chicago Tribune aimed at young professionals who have the reading level of a third grader.

Anyhow, one of their features "Wearwolves" takes five people off the street, their photograph and then asks the RedEye staff to judge the outfits.

Mine was taken at the Sushi Samba Winter Fashion Show. Unfortunately Wally did not make the cut, but I did receive 1/3 good comments.

And to prove those bitchy queens from His Stuff in Andersonville which said something to the effect of my cuffs made them howl, take this!

Happy Groundhog Day!