July 30: Kristen Stewart Begs Robert Pattinson to Take Her Back

This post has nothing to do with Kristen Stewart or Robert Pattinson or vampires or cheating girlfriends.  Sorry about that Twihards or Twihearts or Twiheads.  I will not be discussing Edward or Bella.  I will say nothing about Kristen's little fling with her married director.

The reason I chose to title my post thus was to see if it made any difference in how many views it got overnight.  I've noticed that posts that have popular movies or TV shows in their titles tend to get a lot of hits.  I've also noticed that blogs that have racier titles like "A Quickie" tend to generate some excitement, as well.  Therefore, I tried to pick the most trendy topic for my post title.  Thank you Stephenie Meyer and Twilight.  Now, I'll see if it makes any difference.

Not much to report this afternoon.  It's been quite a busy day, and I'm almost at the end of it, thank the Lord.  I have to stop and pick up some gardening soil on my way home for my pumpkin plant.  It looks like its roots are exposed, and I want to provide a little more fertilizer.  When I get home, I'm going to have to do some gardening.

Well, that's all I got.  Kristen Stewart is young and stupid.  Her director is old and lecherous.  Robert Pattinson can do a lot better.  (I hear Katie Holmes is free.)

Saint Marty isn't above shameless pandering to get more readers.

Kristen's cheatin' heart

July 16: Searching My Mind, Coming Up Blank, "Carol" Dip

Usually, when I sit down to type my morning post, I perform a little inventory, searching my mind to see what subject preoccupies my thoughts.  This morning, when I sat down at the keyboard, I took inventory.  Then, I took inventory again.  I checked a third time, just to make sure my results were accurate.  They were.  My shelves are empty.  I'm coming up blank.  My cup is half-empty.  I can lead a horse to water, but I can't make him give me a subject.  The grass isn't greener over my septic tank.  Life is giving me lemons, and I don't know how to make lemonade.  My well is dry.  I've been through the desert on a horse with no name.

You get the idea.  I could write about how I'm falling asleep in between each sentence, but I don't think any of my disciples want to read another post about how tired I am.  Every Monday is the same story.  I'm tired.  Need caffeine.  It's the mantra of my life.  Therefore, I'm going to cut my losses and get straight to the Carol dip for today.

After much thought, and a whole lot of self-reflection and moral wrestling, I've come up the the following question to ask the great book of Dickens:

Is Tom Cruise as nutty as he seems?

And the answer from Charles Dickens is:

...The way he went after that plump sister in the lace tucker, was an outrage on the credulity of human nature.  Knocking down the fire-irons, tumbling over the chairs, bumping up against the piano, smothering himself among the curtains, wherever she went, there went he...

There you have it, folks.  Katie Holmes got out in the nick of time.  Tom is nuttier than a jar of Planter's Dry Roasted Peanuts, an outrage on the credulity of human nature.  It's official.

Saint Marty needs a nap now.

Call the guys with the butterfly nets!