i need a little trim...

all the chatter about the cleveland browns pants. i agree with my friend, the professor, they make you want to vomit. those pants that the browns lost in last night were dreadful...

makes me think of some other dreadful wardrobes. my husband's for instance. now there has been great improvement in the last few years. lots of purging. clothes that are too big. too small. too trendy. too busy. and just plain ugly were tossed.

of course he wanted to donate them. to what. the uglyass resale shop. or the god awful goodwill store. my suggestion was to donate them to waste management. in a large, black 45 gallon garbage bag. i mean get over it...

he has been very good at it. usually surrendering clothing that he has hung onto for many years. but sometimes he is reluctant to part with a fav t shirt. even though it has 3 holes in it. he said he could do yardwork in it. that implies that he actually does yardwork. which he rarely does. i will not stand and applaud because he has cut the grass with a 36" troybuilt mower. but that is a future blog. there is far too much creativity going on in this house to pull weeds...

i will give him credit. he puts up with a lot of editing. i will trim the fat off of anything. big mouth that i am. he will be ready to walk out the door to do a gig and i will say do you really want to wear that belt with those shoes. and the belt will not even show. no his belly does not cover it. his bowling shirt does. what if he is on stage and in the midst of a bit he raises his hands over his head and the wrong belt is visible. never mind the belly at this point. you can see everything on stage...

if he resists, i remind him. over and over again. it is not me they will be talking about afterwards. doesn't matter what you did or said. your outfit sucked. jeez don't guys know anything...

up there on stage it is the whole package that is being taken in. you better look cool if anything. as far as i am concerned the slob look on a 42 soon to be 43 year old is out. way out...

are comics as superstitious as athletes. i think so. i tell jeff he sucks before every show. and what an embarrassment he is. it seems to work for him. he kills every time. but i will not let him leave the house with the wrong shoes on. someone better edit me...