Tuesday, January 24, 2012

What Would Betty White Say?

(post and memes - not photos - below, copyright 2012, Dawn Weber)

Betty White turned 90 years old last week.

Still. I bet she could kick my ass - and yours. With only her words.

She's short. She's blonde. She's naughty. Sound familiar?

Oh, I love me some Betty. My mom love Betty. My 14-year-old daughter - she love Betty.

My late grandma - born one year before her - loved Betty. And I bet that somehow, someway, even Upstairs, grandma still love Betty.

Hell. Everybody love Betty, because she's keepin' it real.

Betty, you're so awesome that I'd like to take you out for your birthday. Yeah, I'd fly to L.A., come to your house, and ring your doorbell. Everybody knows - you love pets. I bet you have a bunch of them, and that when you opened the door, your dogs would go ape-shit, barking and whatnot.

I wonder, then, What Would Betty Say (W.W.B.S.)?

You and I, Betty, we'd hop in your Cadillac and hit Sunset Strip. Cruising along, a cool 20 m.p.h. in the left hand lane, folks honkin', swearing, trying to pass on the right. It would make me angry. I'd yell at those a-holes: 

"This is Betty-damn-White, and she's 90! Go the hell around us!"

But Betty, it wouldn't bother you. You'd stay cool as a cucumber, wouldn't you?


As we drove, Betty, you and I would discuss things, like that fact that you are - undeniably - old. So I would say:

"Betty, you're old. What's it like?"

What Would Betty Say?

I'd take you dancing, Betty, oh yes I would, at the Viper room, and I'd pull you out on the floor. Dudes would come up, ask us to dance, because yeah - we're still hot like that. 


Oh, I love Betty. She pimpin' what she got. 

Sure, haters gotta hate and talk over-exposure, but for the most part, everybody love Betty right now.

And isn't it about damn time? Finally, FINALLY we appreciate, honor and respect a woman who isn't a 105-lb., 23-year-old. 

There is, in every woman, a little bit of Betty. And there are Betties everywhere. Resting in the branches of your family tree. Sitting alone in the halls of your local nursing home. Coasting in the fast lane of your nearest interstate. Every-Betties.

They all deserve some Betty love.

At 40-damn-two, I am just a baby. But when I grow up, I want to be a Betty.

Because she? Is still bold. Still working. Still somewhat blonde.

Betty White is still here. And still, decidedly. . .


This post is for my Aunt Dee, who recently passed on, and my Grandma, Laura, who were sisters.
Betty White, in looks and mannerisms, always reminds me of a cross between the two of them.

I love and miss you both. 

You were both - decidedly - badass.

How I wish  you were both still here.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

New Year's Fails. Er...Resolutions

(Post copyright 2012 - WTFFFFF!!!??? Where's my Hover-Car?, Dawn Weber)

Well, it's the New Year. I can tell because my pants are once again choking my ovaries.

They're also strangling my kidneys, intestines, and spleen. My liver? Has its own battles to fight.

My pants are assholes.

I bet yours are, too.

No wonder. The main damn four food groups these past few weeks have been cookies, fudge, candy and cookie dough. Strangers have asked me when the baby is due.

And then I punch them in the throat.

My healthy and wholesome recent lifestyle - and profoundly tight pants - signal that it's time to lie to myself make some New Year's fails resolutions. Again. For some reason, my fails resolutions are the same each year.

I bet yours are, too.

We will...

Lose weight!
Spend more time with family!
Stop punching strangers in the throat!

Yeah, right. Fail, fail and fail some more.

I have good intentions. But somehow, throughout the year, I get sidetracked with more important things. Such as working, sleeping and Googling pictures of Mike Rowe. I have a Dirty Job for you, Mike Rowe...

No more. I've decided that it's time to get real. Be honest. Ask yourself: What can I truly accomplish in one year's time?

Here at the Lighten Up! Self Help Center (Motto: Better Living Through Chemistry), I have put together some practical, do-able goals for all of us.

No thanks is necessary. Just send cash.

Or a nice box of wine.

Repeat after me, party people:

-I resolve to eat healthier potato chips.
-I resolve to go to church bi-annually.
-I resolve to help my fellow man be less idiotic.
-I resolve to get more sleep -ing pills
-I resolve to learn new things in the bedroom.
-I resolve to be a nicer person to animals.
-I resolve to pray for more money.
-I resolve to be a better role model for crackheads.
-I resolve to volunteer to punch idiots in the throat.
-I resolve to give more money to the Walmart and Target corporations.
-I resolve to quit drinking non-alcoholic beverages.
-I resolve to control my road rage when asleep in the passenger seat.
-I resolve to be happier about my humdrum existence.
-I resolve to cuss less at church. Bi-annually.
-I resolve to read more erotica.
-I resolve to quit smoking crack.
-I resolve to eat less vegetables.

These we can do, folks. No more New Year's fails. Yes sir, I am feeling really good about it.

And that ain't just the crack-pipe talkin'.