Tuesday, August 31, 2010


Gentle Readers,

Every group of adults, as they begin to age a bit, says that the world is going to shit and it's all because of this, that, or the other thing that young people do or don't do.

Well, I have figured out what's wrong with the current generation of young people.

They, or at least some of them, don't do their laundry properly.

They don't separate lights and darks.

They overload the machine.

They put red in with white.

They use whatever detergent is on sale without concern for which one actually gets clothes clean.

They don't care what brand of washing machine they use. They just want the machine to swirl the clothes around and then they call them clean.

They dry clothes on the cycle for towels instead of using the permanent press cycle with wrinkle-release time.

They don't hang up clothes immediately after they come out of the dryer in order to avoid wrinkles.

They don't pre-treat stains.

These may seem silly, minor concerns to you, but if you consider them more carefully, Gentle Readers, you will see that these failings are, in fact, indicative of disorganization, laziness, lack of concern for belongings (especially Mom's poor overloaded washer), and not caring how they present themselves in public when they are wearing clothes that should be white but have a strange pink tinge and are stained and wrinkled.

Everything just tossed in together and dried on the wrong setting and sometimes thrown on the floor after departing the dryer.

And that's what's wrong with young people today. They need to learn how to do their laundry correctly.

I feel a bit proud of having figured this out, and I am quite pleased I could share it with you.

Infinities of love,



Gentle Readers,

I fear I must present my rap up of Sunday night's Emmy awards before you read too many news stories that distort the facts as Lola sees them.

I shall relay to you my observations by quoting the text messages I wrote to my favorite young man during the telecast, which I watched with my dear friend DVR; however, I will not include FYM's reactions just in case he doesn't want me to.

Text 1: I just started watching my DVR of the Emmys. Jimmy Fallon is the host. I hope he's good.

Text 2: Yeah, it's starting off funny.

Text 3: They opened the show with a big production number of Baby We Were Born to Run, or maybe it's just called Born to Run, that incorporated elements of Glee and a few little things from other shows.

Text 4: I didn't know that Jimmy sings and plays guitar. He's starting another number by himself now.

Text 5: I'm already disappointed. The gay kid from Glee didn't win best supporting actor in a comedy. Some guy I've never heard of from a show I've never heard of is the wiener.

Text 6: I want Glee and Mad Men and The Office and The Daily Show to win everything.

Text 7: Things are going from bad to bad. Somebody from Modern Family won best supporting actor and now their writers won best writing. I don't know what else they wld win but I don't fucking like it.

Text 8: Improved - Jane Lynch (Rhapsody in White's trainer) won best supporting actress in a comedy for Glee. I'm afraid you'll have to live without more updates from me unless something really hilarious or amazing happens.

(I lied)

Text 9: Jane Lynch just thanked her wife Laura. Rhapsody in White really does have two mommies.

Text 10: It's gay night at the Emmys. The best director comedy went to a guy for Glee and Doogie Howser kissed him on the mouth.

Text 11: The director just thanked his partner and he didn't mean as in business.

Text 12: I am actually LOL. They just showed a little comedy thing filmed in advance, much of which revolved around gayness and included George Clooney.

Text 13: OMG someone who's not gay won

Text 14: Jimmy Fallon's doing a hilarious Elton John impersonation singing to the tune of Candle In The Wind about a show that ended this year.

Text 15: Then he impersonated somebody I don't know singing another song and now he's doing Billy Joe Armstrong I Hope You've Had The Time Of Your Life.

Text 16: The Daily Show won best variety show. Seventh win I think they said.

Text 17: George Clooney won the Bob Hope Humanitarian Award.

Text 18: Standing O for George.

Text 19: George only two years younger than I am - hope for me yet. He'll tire of those young bimbos yet.

FYM had stopped replying to texts at about #12 so I finally stopped writing them. However, I was pleased that Breaking Bad won best supporting actor and best actor (drama) and Mad Men won best drama. But that show Modern Family won best comedy. I have never heard of that show.

If I haven't heard of it, then it should not be eligible for awards.

I really thought Glee would win more, and they definitely deserved to do so.

A made for TV movie I heard about but had not seen because it was on HBO won a number of awards: Temple Grandin. The titular lady was at the awards show. She is autistic but has become known as a very successful and sensitive animal behaviorist. The movie is now in my Netflix queue, as is You Don't Know Jack.

Anyway, the show moved at a fast pace and never dragged and I only recall one stupid comment from a presenter but it wasn't bad enough for me to remember what it was.

I didn't think anyone could host the show as well as Doogie did last year, but Jimmy was just as good, although I would not go so far as to label him Better.

And that's this year's Emmy Rap Up. Don't let the facts confuse you. Lola knows of what she speaks.

Infinities of love,


Saturday, August 28, 2010


Text to Her Boyfriend: OMG! Sx last nite. OMG! Thx.

Text to Her Girlfriend: OMG Sx last nite. LOL! LOL!


Gentle Readers,

Whilst we are on the subject of our canine friends, I offer for your perusing enjoyment a LINK to a charming essay about her dog by the one and only Ann Patchett.

As you may recall, Patchett is the Lola-lauded author of the beautiful Bel Canto and the tough to put down Run.

Ann and Rose, may your love affair last and last and last. You are both way cool.

Infinities of love,


Friday, August 27, 2010


Well, Gentle Readers, the little bulldog who could just knocked over the doggie food container right after I had filled it with a new bag of Pedigree. Everybody ate their supper off the floor tonight, including me. Mmmmmmmm kibble.

Robin, who was supposed to be at death's door by now, gets stronger and hardier every day. Her ribs don't stick out anymore. She still loves to sleep in bed with me and wherever I go in the house, she goes. I am bulldog besotted.

She continues to take an anti-inflammatory each morning with breakfast, but it's been a few weeks since she needed a pain pill. The sad look is gone from her eyes. The limp is gone. I just wish the great big tumor hanging off her belly were gone.

So now is when I take people to task for not caring for their pets. Of course, MY Gentle Readers take care of their helpless darlings, but if some non-gentle reader stumbles across this message, then SHAME ON YOU!

I know I told you that Robin came to me as a foster dog because of my son's young lady love, but I don't think I told you how Robin came to be at the emergency clinic where Julia works as a vet tech.

Some kind people were driving in the country and saw a dog running by the road. She was limping. They thought she had been hit by a car, so they took her to the emergency clinic.

Robin hadn't been hit by a car. Some stupid ***** had dumped her when they realized she was sick.

She was limping because she has bone cancer. The tumor hanging off her belly is there because she has mammary cancer.

She has a scar around her neck from a chain.

The vet said if the bone cancer had been caught early on, she could have had one front leg amputated, and, knowing her, she'd manage just fine on three legs.

She has the mammary cancer because she has been bred God Only Knows how many times, and because she has teats, she could get the mammary cancer. Julia said that if dogs don't have teats, then they don't get mammary cancer.

This beautiful, loyal, adorable bulldog has been mistreated to the nth degree, and all I can do is give her these last happy months. And we are happy together.

And what about you, dog and cat owners?


There are too many unwanted dogs and cats in the world as it is. Quit breeding more, you greedy, sick pigs.

Oh, pardon me - I shouldn't insult pigs that way.

You greedy sick assholes?

And if you're not going to take care of animals, then don't get any. Dogs are pack animals. They need to be part of the family. Therefore, dogs need to live in the house. Get a dog and stick the poor thing in your back yard because for some unknown reason you want a dog and you are going to have one miserable, lonely dog. Oh, but I feed him every day and he has a flea collar. Dumb shit. Dogs have feelings too.

When God gave humankind dominion over the animals, it didn't mean that we were supposed to treat animals cruelly. It means we are supposed to be their caretakers. Unless creatures are supposed to live in the wild and do so, they are dependent on us.

And they will reward us with such devotion and love and loyalty and everything that is good in this world, and in Robin's case, some of the most amazing gas ever smelled.

But I swear sometimes she looks at me in bed and I know she's thinking, She who smelt it dealt it.

But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds of the air, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish of the sea inform you. Which of all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind. (Job 12: 7-10)

With infinities of love and much gratitude that I have this time with Robin, (although summer will not come again),


CANES AMANDI SUNT = Latin for The Dogs Must Be Loved

Thursday, August 19, 2010


Gentle Readers,

I'm afraid I really must insist that you read this description from ebay by clicking on the LINK. It's the same person I wrote about before. She just cracks me up.

I hope she lists stuff for sale on ebay forever.

A couple of very polite young men delivered something new and comfy to my house yesterday and for some reason we started talking about grammar. I'm not sure why they are working as moving men, maybe they are earning money for college or helping a relative. Or maybe they just like their work. That's fine. They were very well spoken and intelligent and were bemoaning their peers' (I use the term loosely) inability to read and spell. They said the stuff on Craig's List is terrible. I've never looked there, but I just can't believe some of the bad writing on ebay. People use the wrong word and then they spell it incorrectly. On more than one occasion I've seen acception for exception. I've seen that error on signs in stores too.

I mentioned to them that when my second child was in elementary school that the kids who couldn't read tended to be the cruelest. Not always, but it was a pretty big problem. They agreed with me and said that being mean is what passes for fun for those children. One girl in particular who once asked me what the word B-O-N-E said, was particularly nasty to my darling child. This went on for years until they were in fifth grade and I said to my child, You know by the time S***** A******* is 16 years old, she'll be pregnant, living in a trailer, and on drugs.

I hope that's not what happened to S.A. I hope that by some miracle she learned to read or found a decent job she could get that didn't require literacy.

I hope, I hope, I hope,

Oh, woe is us.

Infinities of love,


Wednesday, August 18, 2010


That last horrible day we went to the vet because I knew he was in trouble.

And I left without him.

But first there was the bill to pay.

I handed over my Macy's Visa and paid $100.30. Apparently that's the price dead collies go for.

The young woman took my card and said she was sorry for my loss.

After I signed the little slip of paper with my silly name (He Is Dead, He Is Dead)

I handed it back to her and returned the pen to its spot on the desk.

Have a nice day, she chirped as I removed my keys from my purse with trembling hands.

I did not stab her
maim her
gouge her eyes out with my car keys
jump over the desk and kick her
punch her in the mouth
disfigure her
curse her
scream at her
belittle her
insult her (the fat moron)
gash, scrape, or bruise her
disembowel, disgrace, humiliate her
leave her with a scar
pound on her till she shat herself
or return with a plate of cookies arsenic laced.

Instead I smiled through the tears and said,

Thank you

Monday, August 16, 2010


Gentle Readers,

I watched the dvd of Couples Retreat recently and felt perturbed by a prominent aspect of the movie.

Granted, it had some amusing moments, especially the tantric yoga scenes.

But how come these four men, two of whom are decidedly unattractive and one of whom is downright obese, are with such extremely beautiful and almost too slender women? Yes, all four women were very, very good looking.

Maybe they married these men for their wit, charm, and good humor, but studies have demonstrated that people who are considered really good looking usually marry other really good looking people and people who are not so great looking usually marry other not so great looking people.

I don't get it. It's o.k. for the men to have beer bellies, have the face of a bulldog (don't fret bulldog owners - bulldogs are beautiful, but their faces are not right for men), or look like neanderthals whose knuckles should be dragging on the ground, be workaholics, ignore the little lady's interests, and she's not going to dump him and go off with a good looking guy who worships her and gives her everything she wants?

That's Hollywood for you. The men don't have to look great, but there's a different standard for women.

During Seinfeld's heyday, I knew some college girls who referred to what they had labeled "George Syndrome"; specifically, George Costanza who was pretty chubby, rude, and balding, went out with good-looking women all the time. Do you remember George ever having an ugly date? And what did George have to offer? A bad temper and a spotty employment history. He didn't even have his own apartment all the time. He had to move back in with his parents for a while.

George Syndrome: It's for the birds, and I'll flip you one movie and television industry.

Not so lovingly,


Saturday, August 14, 2010


Gentle Readers,

I know everybody and his brother is writing about the flight attendant who got fed up with a nasty passenger and uttered a few choice words starting with F before opening the plane's emergency chute and sliding away into happiness, but I just have to tell this guy, You go girl.

Normally when a man makes it into WOMEN: WE SHALL OVERCOME, he's been a scumbag, like Newt the newt Gingrich.

But I like Steven Slater, who seems to be a gay girly man, not that there's anything wrong with that. I bet he's a lot of fun. We fun people take a lot until we get so fed up that F bombs explode all around us, like when I departed Bible study with an F.

I especially like the You Tube song tribute to him that I listened to yesterday. Just a minute and I'll see if I can find a LINK to it. Ah, I already did. Don't play this hilarious song around the kids or they will return to school singing the catchy "Fuck you. Fuck all of you."

I think my favorite young graduate student mathematician would have enjoyed singing this song to two idiot elementary school teachers who couldn't cope with having a student who was smarter than they were. Ah, and I remember the joyous occasion when she called a kid who was teasing her an asshole. During class. When the teacher and everyone else could hear. She was in middle school.

The teacher asked, Are you going to tell your mom about this or shall I? She said she would and she did and we laughed our asses off. That kid was an asshole and he probably still is.

But you Steven Slater, you are way cool.

And so I leave you with a happy fuck you. Fuck all of you.

Fucking Love,

Fucking Lola

Friday, August 13, 2010


While I wasn't looking, Gentle Readers, Dakota Fanning came of age as an actress.

I thought she would do so as Lily in The Secret Life of Bees, but that movie really didn't do anything for me. The filmmakers simply did not capture the Lily who is portrayed in the much loved novel by Sue Monk Kidd.

But lo and behold, I had missed a movie Hannah Dakota Fanning (no wonder they call her Dakota - who wants to be Hannah Fanning? kinda reminds me of the saying my aunt's fanny) starred in that was released in 2007: Hounddog. Apparently the movie was rather controversial and was not shown in some cities because of a scene in which Fanning's character, Lewellen, is raped. But as Fanning herself pointed out, it didn't really happen and she was just acting.

While I certainly thought Fanning was great in I Am Sam and Man on Fire, she was great in the way that a precocious child is great. In Hounddog, she is great as a young adult who is not going to be "former child actress Dakota Fanning." Ms. Fanning should have a long career ahead of her, if she wants it.

The movie is heartbreaking and dramatic, and of course, not for children.

David Morse plays Lewellen's daddy, Lew, who starts the film as the rather menacing type of character for which he is now known, but then he is struck stupid by lightning and turns into an idiot snaggle-toothed cracker. My first memory of David Morse was when he played the hapless, sweet widower doctor nicknamed Boomer on the tv show St. Elsewhere. I loved that show. How interesting that he has extended and expanded his career by playing a variety of characters, many evil, but also a good prison guard in The Green Mile.

Well, let's conclude now with salutations to Hannah Fanning.

Dakota, you are way cool.



Oh, and by the way, Dakota Fanning and I share our date of birth: February 23. Of course, the year is different. I was at least ten or twelve or ******* when she was born in 1994.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Ebay Perusing Led Me To A Great Writer

Gentle Readers,

Sometimes on these hot summer nights, I sit myself down in the air conditioning, dressed in my most comfortable nightie, at the ole' computer and peruse the listings on ebay. I've even made a few purchases there, make-up and nail polish. In fact, I'm wearing a very pretty ebay-purchased nail polish right now. The color is French Vanilla, I think. I really like it.

But, ah, I digress.

I think many of you out there will agree with me that most of the writing on ebay is pretty bad. I'm talking about the descriptions sellers write for their stuff. Bad spelling, bad grammar, trite, blah, blah, blah.

However, I came across a seller last night whose description made me laugh out loud. Wait a minute, let me see if I can create a link to one of her listings. Yes, click Here and have a nice chuckle.

After you read and laugh, you can look at the other items this seller has described. Some of her, I believe this has to be a woman, descriptions are quite straightforward and some sound as if she wrote them at two in the morning when she had the giggles.

This is a woman after my own heart.

With love and laughter,


Tuesday, August 10, 2010


Run by Ann Patchett.

Not as amazing as Bel Canto, but very good and hard to put down.

An intelligent and trustworthy young woman told me that The Patron Saint of Liars is also excellent. It's on my Amazon wish list.

Run by Ann Patchett.

Read it.

It's that simple.

And if you're one of those people who skips to the end to see how things turn out, don't! You'll ruin it for yourself. Let the story unfold as Patchett wants it to. She's a great writer.

Ann Patchett, you are way cool.



Monday, August 9, 2010


Gentle Readers,

It's time for an update on Robin!

I realized suddenly that she has been here for two months.

As you may recall, Robin is the cancer-stricken foster dog who came to my home with my son's young lady love.

And I am happy to report that Robin looks and seems to feel great.

I give her an anti-inflammatory with her breakfast in the morning, and about once a week she starts to look droopy and unhappy and then it's pain pill time.

But other than that, she is Rockin' Robin. She has mammary cancer and bone cancer. The mammary tumor is quite large, but it doesn't seem to bother her. The bone cancer is in her shoulder, and when she arrived, she limped badly. Now, however, she seldom limps. She jumps happily for her bowl at meal time, eats heartily, and enjoys going outside. Sometimes I peek out the window at her and see her lying on the patio out back, just enjoying the safe world inside the fence.

My nicknames for her are Robin-a-bobbin because she's bouncy and happy and it rhymes, and Little Lady because she's the only female dog in my world and it's a good name for quiet times when we're cuddling in bed.

The vet's prognosis was three months. It's been two.

Whatever happens, I will make sure she is as happy and comfortable as possible up to the last minute.

With love and joy,


Sunday, August 8, 2010


Gentle Readers,

I've spent the past week thinking about writing a post that would explain to you just how beautiful and strong he was, how intelligent and sensitive, and, finally, how he died.

I find I can't do it. I can't write about him.

He was the dog of my life and I can't write about him.

With love and regret,


CANES AMANDI SUNT = Latin for The Dogs Must Be Loved. My daughter painted it on a plaque that hangs by my front door.

Sunday, August 1, 2010


I poked my head out of my shell briefly yesterday and then a huge, huge thunderstorm gave me the perfect excuse to return to my shell by going back to bed.

Today I am trying to talk myself into taking a shower and picking up prescriptions and going to the grocery store before I run out of everything.

It is as if time stopped when he died.