Lady Gaga has a Crotch.

Soooo, it's been awhile since I've been here. In the name of shameless self promo, I've been on my new blog a lot, and it's listed at the bottom of the page, so check it out. I still need to post here though because with my dear, dear Injun Jimbo I can spend a lot of time being sardonic and nasty about this thing called life in America. It is one of the things I love most about our friendship, that we spend most of our time being flippant and nasty about the rest of the world.

Moving on, here's a quick lil' update on my little world. I'm super pregnant, I'm super over beng pregnant, I'm having a boy named Emerson. Nolan's birthday was last week, it was fun, olan no longer works at Barnes & Noble but now works full time for USD at the Dept of American Indian Studies Oral History Center. he should be a guest blogger on here sometime to talk about all his fun adventues with Jim-bo's peeps. Heyayayayaya. Our house has been sick ward for this last month- various flus and such have afflicted us in the most disgusting of ways. But the most important news is that Nolan convinced me to buy an orange futon/couch thingie for our office/guest room. I just pray it's not some hunter-garb orange or prisoner orange.

Moving on again. Today I was watching vh1 for the first time in about 800 years and I just need to know some things. Why are Lady Gaga and Britney Spears so devoted to showing off their coochi-coochie-coos? Really. Why? Every one knows you two probably have va-jay-jays. One of you has birthed spawnlings. The other, I thought was a cross dresser for a really long time, but I guess isn't, so therefore, it's natural that she has a vagina. I don't need to see it. Vaginas are actually kind of unattractive to look at, no matter how you playboy it up- waxings, bleachings, surgeries, whatever- it's still your muff and nobody but the people you do the dinky-dink with wants to see it.

Ugh. I really wish I had a cup of coffee. Back to lady Gaga. Out of wondering about her as an artist, I was listening to some of her other stuff on lala.com (you haven't heard about this site? oh, well GO THERE NOW- FREE AND CHEAP MUSICA) and there is one song called Papparazzi that is pretty spectacular because it's about being a stalker, which is incredibly hot. We all know how much I love love love Sting's Ultimate Ode to being an obsessive creep-o "Every Breath You Take". Sometimes I wake Nolan up by singing that song in a creepy voice- it always gets him turned on.

Wait a second, can we really classify someone with the name, artistic or not, of Lady Gaga as someone we take seriously? Didn't think so. Gosh, why do I care if she shows her va-gi-na then? I should care more about artists with integrity . . . like Kanye. He's got a new video out, "Heartless". It's an 80's acid trip. Nolan loves, loves Kanye. I just want to know why there are animated women in this video wearing green or yellow lipstick.

I also want to know why Nickleback's "got to be Somebody" video features them traveling through the universe and then standing pon a canyon ledge during an earthquake. Is this some testament to the awesome power of how much they blow? Can some one in the music video industry PLEASE explain to me why I need videos with va-jay-jays, green and yellow lipstick, galaxy travel, and an animated Kanye smoking a cigarette. He should smoke peace pipe lites with Jim-bo.

Jim-bo's a danged work-a-holic at this so called "job" of his. What salaried worker really goes and works on Sundays, just for the heck of it. I think that he's just tired of hanging out, being a creeper in his folks' dungeon basement, so he goes to work and dinks around with his cell phone and ipod and plays solitaire. I mean he is getting paid and all, why not!?!?!?! Just kidders, Jim- I know how hard you work. Sorta.

So a few weeks ago Nolan and I watched a documentary called "Cook Your Life". I really got the basic idea behind this thing- make cooking a zen thing, care what comes and goes from your body, nourish your soul while nourishing yourself. What I want to know is where they found the zen bread maker chef guy. He's a bit cross eyed and he's a bit lispy and he's just flat out fabulous. He has a five minute diatribe about having originally been resentful when he became a buddhist monk to the ritual of offering the Buddha food every night. He waxes poetic about the fact that he's certain Buddha doesn't care about the crepes they are offering him . . . and then just sort of tapers off because he probably lost his train of thought. You have to see this to appreciate it.

The best part of having watched this is that now Nolan can do a dead on impression of this guy ad does it regularly to alleviate my insano-prego-psycho-mood swings. Yeah, mood swings. I'm any manic depressives worse nightmare right now. Last night I went from feeling peaceful and content to psychotically angry to near sobbing to zooming around folding laundry in less than 30 seconds. I pity people that have to deal with me right now.

I gotta post another blog about the stupidness of being American right now, but I do need to be sort of productive today. Basically I'm mad at other Americans for giving President Obama grief for not getting all his promises accomplished in the first thirty seconds of being prezzie. Because, you know, bureaucracy doesn't just wick away efficiency of government, nosirree. But that's best saved for its own post, soon to come. Right now it's more important to me to go give the kitties some catnip purely for my own amusement.

Peace out-

Chatterbox Sara