Horrib-ill.

You know what's annoying? The inability to keep down solid foods.

On the plus side, being debilitated by nausea affords one the ability to spend quality time with daytime judges, immobile elderly people and Lil' Mama.

Snuggie Nation.

Did you see Obama's speech Tuesday night? I'm fairly certain Nancy Pelosi was sporting a pea green Snuggie.

Can someone please explain these things to me? I'm not getting how they are supposed to be some sort of new sensation. I'm pretty sure we already had loose fitting fabric garments that were not fully enclosed. They're called robes. So putting one on backwards, fabricating it out of cheap fleece and making it huge makes it a Snuggie?

Maybe I'll end up eating my words when I order a gross of them to distribute amongst the congregation of the "church" I'm starting.

Lotto, Schmotto.

After a particularly bad/soul-sucking/craptastic day, do you ever find yourself purchasing a lottery ticket, momentarily entertaining the notion of rolling around in a big pile of moolah while telling your boss to cram it with walnuts? But then it turns out you don't win and are instead even more disgruntled, downtrodden and disgusted?

Admit it: you've been there. And it should come as no surprise, because I'm convinced the lottery is a(nother) state-sponsored scam. A scam, I tell you! Have you ever known anyone personally who was won big bucks in the lottery? I'm not talking about some fool who netted like $500. I'm talking about the ridiculous jackpots that would likely ruin your life and see you inundated with calls from long lost friends, family and children. No? That's because no one wins! The state keeps the money and doles out paltry amounts to keep suckers interested. I'm convinced it's all a sham.

Or maybe I'm just bitter because I once again failed to win the lotto yesterday and can't afford a big, tricked-out belt buckle like (the artist formerly known as Lil') Romeo, over there.

Grammy's Mix Tape.

Good news:  the folks at Crystal Light have somehow gotten ahold of the results of your grandma dabbling in 80's technology and are offering you the ability to purchase "Grammy's Mix Tape" if you so desire.  

First of all, "Grammy's" is obviously just plan wrong.  If it is a mix tape from the Grammy Awards, it should just be Grammys Mix Tape, yes?  And if they insist on denoting possession, then it would be Grammys' Mix Tape, no?

Perhaps more importantly, why, in 2009, is anyone (including your grandma) still making mix tapes?  I held on to my cassette tapes to the bitter end and even I was forced to recognize that era is dead and gone.

Finally, people still drink Crystal Light?

TLC Trauma.

When Bravo is showing only reruns of the Hooches of the East, Left and South (the Real Housewives series), I'm forced to look elsewhere for entertainment, lest my retinas be seared by the glow from their orange flesh. This often includes a stop at TLC for some What Not to Wear or Little People: Big Deal! action. All well and good.

What I do NOT appreciate, however, are the commercials/teasers for other TLC programming, which more often than not include GROSSLY DISTURBING IMAGES. Listen, I'm trying to watch some stupid show about wedding gowns: don't go showing me theMermaid Girl, the 900 lb Toddler or the Boy Who's Face Flew Off[sic]. I hate being sabotaged with video footage of some guy in India who has tree bark growing off his body, some dude whose biceps exploded or a fella with NO FACE WHATSOEVER. What the...?! 

Or at least give me some warning. Going from wondering if some jerk on Property Ladder is going to lose his shirt on a house flipping scheme to being confronted with Sharon, the primordial dwarf and her average-sized teeth is a bit jarring, to say the least. Poor Sharon! How can I go back to watching LA Ink after seeing her?  How can I go on?!

Wee Boy.

While walking home today, I came upon a family sort of clustered around a sewer grate, just kind of standing there and staring down the alley. As I got closer, I noticed that there was a stream of water coming from the 2-3 year old boy and going into said sewer.

On one hand, I guess he was just more or less eliminating the middle man by peeing directly into the sewer. On the other hand, ewww. But I guess it was better than peeing on the side of a building. Or having an accident. But now is he going to grow up thinking he can whiz whenever the mood strikes (as long as there's some sort of drain involved)? Because there are already too many people who are laboring under that delusion. I used to live off of South Street in Philadelphia (where the fabled hippies meet) and every time I looked out the window, there was some clown micturating in the alleyway. It got to the point where I would hold up score cards for them.

While we're on the topic, there seems to be an inordinate amount of like, Snapple bottles partially filled with liquid laying around on the city streets. Have you noticed this? My husband is convinced they are all filled with urine, and I have a friend who supports the same theory. This is confusing. Why bother peeing into a bottle, sealing it, and then leaving it somewhere? If you're gonna do that, just do like the little kid and go directly into the sewer. Am I wrong?

Make this Show.

Do y'all know Lil Mama? Looooove her. She's a rapper or something but I know her from America's Next Best Dance Squad on MTV. All I know is that she dresses a mess, looks about 58 years old but is only 19, and has a fabulous way of speaking. She actually sounds a lot like Brian Fellow. Which is awesome.

Someone needs to give Lil Mama her own show in which she plays a Judge Judy type person who doles out no-nonsense justice whilst over-enunciating with a Brooklyn accent. Get on that! I'd totally watch it.