A blast from the past.



They just don’t make ’em like they used to. By that, I mean “butt ugly.”

(Hurrah for bonus posts!)

Way back in the halcyon days of the 1970s, when Donald Trump was just a rich asshole no one knew of outside New York City, my parents owned an AMC Gremlin. I think. Or was it a Ford Grenada? It might have been both. Anyway, they owned one of these ugly-ass cars. They didn’t have any kids yet (they were married 10 years before I came along), so a small, compact car like that worked well for their lifestyle. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that the Gremlin was not an attractive automobile. I don’t think cars were necessarily designed to be attractive as well as functional unless you’re talking about muscle cars or luxury cars. For the most part, as long as the damn thing worked when you turned it on, it was a good car. Nowadays, people are obsessed with form as well as function, so you get good-looking cars that work when you turn them on.

What’s your favorite ugly car from the 1960s-1980s? Did you own one, and if so, did you enjoy driving it? If you could have traded it in for a “prettier” model from that same time period, would you have, and if so, what car would you have chosen?




Happy Turkey Day!



Please don’t lick your screen. The food is not real. It’s just a picture.

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays simply because of the food. We don’t eat turkey or meat stuffing or green bean casserole or cranberry sauce or even pumpkin pie, any other time of year. This is it. As such, you spend all year counting down on the calendar for when you can sit down and pig out. We usually have a ton of food on the table, well, a ton for us anyway — turkey, meat stuffing, mashed potatoes (for my sister’s boyfriend; he doesn’t like meat stuffing), Brussels sprouts, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce (Ocean Spray Jellied Cranberry Sauce or nothing at all), crescent rolls or biscuits, and of course, homemade turkey gravy. All in all, quite the spread.

From Designer Sophisticate’s family to yours, I hope you have a wonderful holiday. Eat lots of food, watch lots of football, take a nice, long nap afterwards. Enjoy!


One of the worst days.

If blood, even dried, squicks you out or makes you feel sick, consider this your warning. I don’t think the photo is that graphic, but I’m not you.



I hope we never live to see a day like this again.


Today is not a pleasant day if you’re a lover of American history or even someone with the ability to look at the calendar and recognize that something happened on this day, something very awful, many years ago. My parents were in 8th grade on November 22, 1963, and they remember everything about that day and the days that followed just as clearly as though it happened yesterday, not 54 years ago. The prompt today got me thinking about something I once heard someone say about the Kennedy assassination, that it was a “mercy” Jack didn’t suffer for very long after he was shot…but then I look at that image, of where his wife was sitting, how she was covered in his blood and his brain matter and bits of his skull, and I ask myself — was it really a mercy? Was anything about this remotely merciful? In between the shot that hit him in the upper back and exited his throat and the shot that hit him in the back of the head, it was only a few seconds, but he was still aware in those seconds that he was going to die. Was the fact that it was only a few seconds indicative of mercy? How much terror or confusion can you feel in only a few seconds?

No, there was no mercy here. Just hatred. Violence. Murder. May we never see a day like it again.


The worst day of the week.



I feel like this speaks to me on a spiritual level.


Even in a week with a holiday, Mondays suck. I don’t know what it is. Whether I’m working or not working, Mondays are the day of the week I look forward to the least. Everything about them is horrible. Friday is too far away. Hell, Wednesday seems too far away. We have Thanksgiving this week, which is nice, but that’s on Thursday. It might as well be next decade for all it feels.

Do you feel this way about Mondays? Do you just feel like your ass is dragging, no matter how early you get up or how much work you get done by the end of the day?


What the heck, Daily Prompt?

Alright. I’ve seen some difficult prompts in my day, but this one might take the cake. How am I supposed to match this up with a song for Musical Interlude Friday? I don’t know many bands or singers who’ve done paeans to fungi lately. So. Since I can’t give you a song that ties in somehow to what the prompt is for today, I’ll just give you a random track I’ve been listening to a lot lately and let that be for this week. Therefore, I give you Criminal by Fiona Apple. Enjoy!


Great, now try your lights.



You know who I hate? People who make their car horns play songs. Stop that.


I don’t know if it’s because I live in the South or what, but people around here are loathed to use their horns to prod people along if they’re dawdling on the road. I don’t know how many times I’ve been stuck behind someone at a green light who is messing with their phone or fiddling with the dial on their radio and NO ONE HONKS. What’s worse is when I do honk to tell someone to get a move on, other people give me dirty looks like I’m being rude. Really? What else are we to use the car horn for, if not to tell other drivers to get their asses in gear? I’ve got shit to do, people. I don’t have all day to sit behind some moron who thinks the light isn’t the right shade of green for him to take his foot off the brake.


I’m supposed to believe​ that?



This is probably one of the greatest GIFs in the world. You can use it in so many ways.


Has anyone ever said something to you that you just didn’t believe? Something about it didn’t pass the smell test, and while maybe some of it sounded true, something else just sounded off? When I was in high school, way back in the long ago time of the late 1990s, something girls loved to brag about was how far they got with their boyfriends. Now, being an all-girls Catholic high school, said boyfriends didn’t attend the school, so there was no danger of running into any of these boys on one’s way to homeroom, but there was one girl in particular, we’ll call her “Agnes,” that told some of the tallest tales ever told about what her and her boyfriend got up to, outside of school. My favorite story was how she claimed she got caught by a Chicago police officer going down on said boyfriend in a public park.

Two things — I refused to believe that a Chicago police officer would see a teenage girl engaging in acts of a delicate nature, while in public, and not immediately haul both her and the boyfriend in for public lewdness and indecent exposure. Also, she’d told several variants of that story already, encompassing other public places. I just looked at her and said, “Agnes, you’re full of shit,” then walked away.

What’s the biggest whopper someone ever told you that they expected you to believe? For the sake of civility, no conspiracy theories, please. If someone believes that aliens killed JFK, that’s lamentable, but that’s not really what I’m looking for here.


How does that one go again?


I watched this performance live and sobbed like a 5-year-old. I apologize for nothing.

As an avid music lover, when I saw the prompt for today, the first thing that popped to mind was “guitars.” We all have our favorite songs that prominently feature guitar riffs and guitar solos, and there will be debate until the end of time over which riff or which solo is more impressive or more melodic, but it all comes down to personal preference and taste. For me, in order to be a great riff, upon hearing it, you have to not only be able to identify the song and artist, but it has to make the hair on your arms stand up. If it doesn’t, it just isn’t that good. Now, the three guitarists who to me, have the most memorable/best riffs and solos are Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Page, and David Gilmour. To give you a taste of what I mean, here is my all-time favorite Jimi Hendrix riff/solo, and if all the nerves in your body aren’t at the very top of your skin, then I think you’re clinically dead.


“I want my baby back…”

Ordinarily, I only post music videos on Fridays, but occasionally, the Daily Prompt for the day doesn’t move me to expound on it verbally, but rather, a song or artist pops to mind, and I share that instead. This is one of those times. I just heard this song on the radio not more than an hour ago, so it was already sort of swirling around in my mind, but after seeing what the prompt for today was, I realized that perhaps it was a sign. So, without further ado, I give you Los Bravos. Enjoy!


Instrumental or with lyrics?

I love Daily Prompts like this on a Friday. So many avenues to go. The first thing that popped into my mind was the song “Soulful Strut” by Young-Holt Unlimited, followed by “Are You the Same Girl” by Swing Out Sister, which used the instrumental as the basis for the song. I decided, “What the hell, let’s go with both!” So, for your Musical Interlude Friday, I give you both the instrumental from 1968 and the version with lyrics from 1992. Enjoy!