UNSOLICITED AND MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS ON THE BODY POLITIC

• Theme songs.  Politicians should do without a soundtrack.  "You're Still the One," was a decidedly inappropriate song for Ted Kennedy, following his speech at the Democratic convention.  Last night left me longing for the good old days of the Clinton dynasty and Fleetwood Mac.
  
• Get the Obama kids out of the picture.  Sure, they're cute.  Yah, they remind us of the future. Definitely, they add an element of spontaneity to a highly staged event.  But it's creepy.  Let's learn from the Mary Kates, the Jon Benets, the Patti Davis' nee Reagans.
• The high price of "Gasolina".  Let us all pray to a Gdashd that we don't believe in that music super star, Daddy Yankee's endorsement of John Mccain will respectively cripple Reggaeton record sales and the Republican bid for the presidency.
  

Rediscovered on the NYSC music channel:

OBAMA + ME = ;->

Okay.  We can all agree Obama's dreamy.  Sure.  We have a major crush.  Yes, we collectively want to wear his Varsity Letter jacket.  Indeed, we've had visions of making breakfast for us both, clad in nothing but his boxer briefs and an apron.

HOWEVER.

This Vice Presidential nomination notification by text message thing is a little too Junior High even for me, the perpetual 13 year old.    

L'CHAIM CUPCAKES

Kosher Chocolate Cupcakes with a Cheesecake surprise center.

CHILD, JULIA CHILD

The report released today that Julia Child was somehow involved in a WWII international spy ring is by far the most refreshing, most inspired news item since the I don't know what.  A secret agent who made  her own mayonnaisse?  Feminists, take notice: this stands as the definition of the modern woman. 

It seems so obvious now.  Of course, the ultimate domestic had a dark foreign side.  Are there secret codes embedded in her recipe for the perfect flaky pie crust?  Let the confectionary conspiracy theories commence!

   

A LUNESTA MIRACLE

I'll do anything for a good night's sleep.  

I've taken so many pills, I probably shouldn't donate blood.  Mosquitos would be better off steering clear, unless of course they're insomniacs too.  

 

Xanax.  I still toss and turn, I just don't worry about it.  Ambien.  Works like a 3 hour charm.  Trazadone has a cinderblock-on-my-face effect and I run into walls like I'm Karen Black the next morning.  Melatonin makes me dream in a nightmarish technicolor.

Now I'm on Lunesta.  So far so good.  Apparently, there is a side effect of male breast enlargement, so I'm hoping for the miracle of miracles: 

to be well rested and stacked by the month's end.

FRANCE vs. USA