Thanks to all those who’ve made today and all of my 34 years special.
Love,
TLRG:redhead:

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Laboring for more than 14 hours a day throws all big thoughts out the window. No reserve energy exists to eat my Kid’s Cuisine Scooby Doo pudding, let alone to think over the merits of transcendalism. But small for snippets of comical ponderance and observations have bubbled to the surface such as:

If so few people have faith these days, why do so many suckers play Powerball? Do folks standing in queques longer than post-Gorby bread lines ever do the math on this? Most friends of mine over 30 can barely remember their cell and Blackberry digits, let alone have the lucky twist of fate to pick 6 winning numbers in a row. And, the people who are the poorest seem to wager the most. They’re like old ladies in West Palm beach with the 15 Bingo cards being played simultaneously. Hope against hope to beat the odds. If we channeled all of this positvity into foreign diplomacy, we could solve the quagmires of Darfur, Kabul, Tehran and the Vatican’s disdain of cafeteria Catholics all in one fell swoop.
The good news? At least humanity still believes in something, right? Cue the sexy Lotto lady.

On to the homeless….I know CCNV’s Mitch Snyder would wap me upside the head for what I’m about to say if he wasn’t so darned non-violent, but what’s with the shelterless indigent and their full-to-the-brim shopping carts? It’s common sentiment that many of the homeless are on the streets because they are either crazy and untreated or jobless and without initiative. Both of these assupmtions fly in the face of street urchins who have the ingenuity to stack shopping carts to the hilt with “desirables” (who cares if its an old, moldy mop?) defying space and gravity. In addition, the cartsmiths in question balance mulitple vehicles through busy urban intersections with crafty bob and weave navigation worthy of Dale Earnhart Jr. Can someone please tell me how its possible to be clinically mad and mumbling about the Kennedy assasination and white chicks while having enough mental muscle to build your own shopping cart shuttlecraft worthy of a trip to Mars? If the homeless applied half that energy to attempting to get shelter assistance or look for a job, life would really look up, eh? Yes, TLRG is already bruised from the pelting that I am about to receive from the likes of Nancy Pelosi and Barbara Boxer, but tell me am I wrong?

And while we are on the topic of shrill and shrieky broads, may I ask the Gen X’ers of the world…am I the only one who’s more than a tad disturbed that this marks the 10th, yes 10th anniversary of Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill release? A Starbucks barista will happily serve up one with your morning latte for $16.95. This makes me feel older than my forehead wrinkles! My how time flies. It seemed like just yesterday when we all were humming about going down, down, down in a the-a-tre. Remember when that was actually controversial? Now we see midgets engaging in foursomes as the Dateline special of the week. Ah, so jaded are we, living in the post-belly ring, low-rise thong decade.

Only broad smiles will be on my lips though tomorrow when I hydroplane out to see my beloved Charlie B and favy-fav city west of the Mississippi, Seattle. I’ve been longing in my bones to see both again but I’ve missed my flesh and bone honey much more. I’ll have a full report from the front, that is if I can drag myself away from my night-time corset classes, the Gnomedex masses and a liquid volume of Mexican hot chocolate equal to Puget Sound. Be well my fans and favs!

Signed,
TLRG :redhead:

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And, while we are chattin’ it up about Tuna of the Sea, I must relay to my faithful readers the things that make you go hmm item of interest I ran across on my recent trip to San Fran’s Chi-tow. No, not the nine varieties of bumpy looking cucumbers the size of Fat Albert featured in the open air markets or the icky smelling slim-you now herbal tea in the tres dusty Chinese dime store box. Instead, the piece de resistance was a mondo sign that “Sushi and Crepes.” There is the ever so occasional multi-cultural culinary haunt where one can get tasty Italiano lasagna with a side order of Greco mousakka but somehow, I’m fairly certain that an establishment with both a Franco crepemaker and a bang-up Asiatic sushi roller would not be one that gets four stars from Mr. Zagat, yes? Melted ham and cheese crepes with a side of California roll anyone?

In Chu-toro and Uni I Trust,

That Little Red-Headed Girl:redhead:

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In case you were wondering, the picture you see on the home page is me…up close and personal and in the virtual flesh. Although normally I neither look nor act that angelic. The Little Red Headed Girl is indeed little (5 Feet 1 inch to be exact) with pint sized energy to burn and a long mane of hair that does my lioness astrological heritage proud. Oh, and unlike Pamela Anderson, the carpet does match the drapes.

You are welcome to write me, to adore me but never to slobber or obsess. Be forewarned, if you like to cut out little pics of redheads and make them into a wall collage above your desk, feel free to exit my site immediately and go to one more deserving of your wants and needs, the fan pages of busty, lusty Ms. Lindsay Lohan:smile:

My mother always told me never to reveal too much of myself in a first meeting and to assume an air of mystery and leave them wanting for more. And so I shall. Tootles for now!

That Little Red Headed Girl:razz:

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