Just got back from a surprise get-away to the nation’s second largest entertainment escape, Branson, Missouri. So much to discuss my precious ones, so little time. How can I begin to describe Branson’s essence? If you’ve been looking for round-the-clock all-you-can eat Asian buffets and a shopping palace dedicated solely to knifes AND dolls, this is the place for you :pigtails:

Let me start by saying that Branson is a lot like Vegas only with more cowboy boot outposts and a communist country’s worth of neon backlit theatres dedicated to B-List stars who you thought were long dead, like Mickey Rooney and Andy Williams. Where else can you hear an aging impresario performing impressive vocal imitations of Scotch-swilling Rat Pack favorites like Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett and 70’s elevator music rock stars like Inglebert Humperdink? And just as a point of order and oddity, I must observe that you know you’re in a throw-back to the past kind of town when the words DSL and elliptical trainer are foreign to the natives.

I fulfilled one of my life’s dreams while in Branson which is to get this ol’ cowgirl a pair of riding boots. Not to be braggadocious but I’ve got a prime pair of Justins that have already been used by yours truly in the “saddle”, if you catch my California king hotel bed and sullied linen drift.:) Gidee-up, ride’em cowboy. Oh and ignore all calls from the hotel desk to control the hootin’ and hollerin’.

Other trip landmarks of note were the copious Amish furniture stores littered on the paved wagon route from Branson to KC, home of Robert Altman and in scary proximity to that security guard cum ladykiller BTK. And of course we can not overlook the only place in our great nation where you can get a slab of cow with cheese, mayo and peanutbutter — Sedalia, MO. Nothing induces culinary happiness and IBS like the famed, pre-McCarthy era Guberburger. If the Planters peanut man had a scuzzy, charming bachelor pad that churned out sizzlin’ funions and beef all the live long day, this place would be it.

From food to frocks, I, TLRG, am a roving hipster reporter that brings it all to you, sort of the anti-Stone Phillips. To that end, I relay that my long plane journies to the Heartland and fro have provided ample time to pursue the spring fashion mags like Vogue and Elle. While I frown at the reintroduction of peasant skirts and 80’s neon plastic bracelet ala Debbie Gibson, I have to tell my readers that the Prada 2005 Spring collection is postively to DIE FOR including must have tri-color wood wedge shoes and a 40’s looking bakelite watch that I just might sell all my plasma to purchase. And while I’m in the confessional, I will reveal my uber splurge purchase this month which I am thoroughly enjoying. Are you ready? Big-rimmed Gucci sunglasses. I feel like a real Beltway bandit NOW! What’s next? The Hermes Birkin briefcase?:mrgreen:

Moving on to the world of film, did y’all get to see the Oscars? Actress Hilary Swank looked stately and statute-worthy in her clingy number and Brit actor Clive Owen followed suit in an extra yummy tux. Leo DiCaprio on the other hand and his once dimply youthfulness has turned into something resembling a puffy Krispy Kreme donut coming off the assembly line. As that girly proverb goes, it’s true nothing scrumdillicious lasts forever. 🙁 Good thing he has Brazilian armcandy to up his hot quotient, si?

I must bring this meandering blog to a close as my jetlagged eyes are about as red as my dress. Know though that I give two ranchhand thumbs up to the world of Branson and urge you to check it out, preferably when the go-cart tracks and Jim Stafford crooning is in full swing. It’s a whole country music hall’s worth of good ol’ fun! As I ride off into the sunset, grace me with your thoughts, will you pardner?

Itchin to Get a Cowgirl Leg Up,
TLRG :redhead: