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November 19, 1999
The Sugarloaf Toy Machine
Dear God in Heaven...I have another cat. <sigh>
Today my soft-hearted, albeit moronic husband, brought home yet another orphan. She was found in some
ladies yard and, being that this lady was "conveniently" allergic to cats, guess where she ended up?
Same place they all do. My house. So, my brand new, tiny Tortie kitty, Little Orphan Annie, joins
our already hectic home. She's cute, I'll give her that. And she already pooped in my bed. She's fitting
right on in with the rest of the misfits. <plugs her nose> Ew.
Today the folks at the Coffeerooms began initiation of my very own movie review page. I even have another
darned cute little logo!! Heck, at this rate EVERYTHING I have here will soon be defunct and useless. It's
all in the Coffeerooms now. <laughing> Not that I'm complaining....I'm just flattered anyone
cares enough about my opinion they would go through this much trouble. See? People who have been ignoring
my opinion? I told you it was IMPORTANT. Bet you have egg on your face now. Serves you all right.
<smirk>
On a happier note one of my dear friends has begun an ongoing phone relationship with Scottie Pippen. (November 2nd, Journal entry) She was ballsy enough to leave a message and is apparently thespian
enough to pull off a great song and dance phone style. He called her again last night at 2:00am. She
thinks that, perhaps, being famous means you do not have to have any manners what so ever. He wants her to
come to Philly after practice. Hardy har. All of this from MY little phone call. I'm a shaper of dreams,
I am.
Interesting career note. ParentsCafe has picked up my journal entry of Nov 2,The
Cereal Chronicles, for their December issue. I
have to quit submitting stuff for awhile. All of this copyright stuff has my head spinning. Ew.
I bought a new ring today. Hit the pawn shop looking for videos - best place to buy them cheap - and they
had a beautiful heart cut Ruby ring on sale at 50% off. I managed to get my cute little bauble for a mere
$37.50. How's that for shopping talent? And, since I know you are dying to know, I bought Passenger
57, Point Break (another Keanu movie 'cause I don't give a damned what ANYBODY thinks), and Ace Ventura, Pet Detective.
For all of you rolling your eyes at the latter, check this out.
You may change your mind.
Tonight was to have been a night fuuuuuuullllllllll of enthusiastic writing for my new column! However, I spent
the last two hours updating all of my webpages with my new movie logo. Vanity has it's price. Thank
God I can afford cut and paste.
And now, touching on that money vein, I present to you another amusing musing. Til Saturday.....M
The SugarLoaf Toy machine. I'm sure you have seen it. If not a true Sugarloaf, something demonically similar to
it.
In any grocery store or mall in America you can find this portal to Hell. Packed to the brim with brightly colored
animals that are secured to the bottom of the game with NASA quality magnetic pull devices, it is the bane of every
mother's existence. No matter how fast you move, no matter how clever you are, if you have a child in tow, they
shall find it. You may run by this machine on the winged feet of Mercury, but you can be sure that your toddler
shall notice.
"Mommmmmmmmmy!"
And you stop. Defeated.
"Winnie da hoo. Wite dare!"
And so he is. Packed deep within the menagerie of pushiness you see his HunnyPot, help triumphant and aloft
above his head like the Lady Liberty's torch welcoming you to your new home. And, as long as it is going to take
you to get him out of there, you might as well build a fence and set up homestead.
So, you drop a coin into the slot and the machine pip-pops to life, whirring and whizzing as the steel jaws defy
you to reach within and get any prize, much less yours. You can swear you almost hear it laughing. These folks
know you aren't getting anything out of there.
Your toddler begins to sway, chanting almost hypnotic like;
"Winnie da hoo...Winnie da hoo..."
Forty-five minutes later, as you make your way to you car with your wailing child, you mentally flout yourself.
You just laid out $45.00 for a trip to the store to get a can of tuna and a roasting bag. How can you not marvel
at this machine's very existence?
As your malcontent child flings a hard won Bugs Bunny to the asphalt and, before you can recapture it, a Chevy
Blazer rolls over the toy and it becomes nothing but a burst of Styrofoam, you flip a mental finger off to the
marketing genius's responsible for this life's lesson.
Smart guys, though. I expect to find one in my Pediatricians office soon.
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