Hood rats. And the men who love 'em.

Sorry I just can’t let this one go. The count is up to like 13. Seriously?! Tiger, what up? You got the Swedish model and go for the Hoot Rat, Hoochie Mamas in Vegas?

What is it with men who gotta go for sloppy seconds off Las Vegas Blvd. when they’ve got the hot mama at home?

I admit it, at first I was pulling for Tiger when the saga broke, I even kinda took his side with the news of his lacerated, semiconscious status. And it’s still totally uncool if she roughed him up, but as the drama oozes like a bad case at a public health clinic, I’m left dumbfounded at my clean-cut, collared, all-American Tiger.

Wow. And they’re ALL hoochie mamas. I mean, Tool Academy contestants? Really?

I don’t know the pscyhological mind warp behind his “transgressions,” I can’t understand the illogical nature of thinking no one might find out, and I can’t comprehend his overinflated ego and callous family detachment….but at least I learned something from this whole thing.

I now know the definition of a hood rat (where have I been, under an Orange County rock?)

Thanks, TMZ. I’m enlightened. (And if you don’t know the song, think 2 Live Crew.)

Do you get Tiger and his hood rats? Do you think men just forgot about Lorena Bobbit? (He’s lucky Elin only had a wedge, fo’ shizzle.)

More day in the life ahead, maybe even more classy next time.

My B.S. in Communications is a little BS

I think I’m in deep diddly doo do. I’ve started bustin’ rhymes, and not in a good way. I’m suddenly speaking in animated kid phraseology. How did this happen? Words like wowie kazowie and lover bugger just flow from my lips. Unforced, unknowingly and without embarrassment.

These are common speak of conversation, the lexicon on everyone’s lips, right?

Wrong—according to my husband. “Corny” was the exact descriptor he used.

Hmm, well I can only hope I don’t utter these on a client call, a chic lunch date, or some other non “such a Mom” event.

That said, I’m off like a prom dress. How’s that? Sassier? Adultish? Less Mom speak?

Who am I kidding? Later, alligator.

Proof of my wowie kazowie mispeak, as I spoke of the line at Small World (long live You Tube, short live my educated credibility).

“Run the cover. It's got legs.”

Can’t you just hear Newsweek cackling, as they comp’ed their cover? Rubbing their hands together with that Mad Scientist laugh. The gall. The genius. The great debate they were about to run with.

A show of hands of those who think it’s right—and those who just left Newsweek’s readership forever. Personally, I sat with the image many days and came to the conclusion that it’s right on.

Let’s face it, Sarah’s a big girl, she’s been around the block a lap or two, and her women’s intuition maybe should have gone off the second she cocked her head just right, threw a little hip out and gave that sexy Runner’s World leg pose. “Hmmm,  this could be taken out of context? Get repurposed? The press could run wild with this?” Thoughts of Perez Hilton, perky Katie Couric and Newsweek should have raced through her presidential head.

Don’t be pulling a beauty queen Prejean on us, the “but I only intended it for so and so.”

Remember Obama’s hot bod beach shot on the Washingtonian? Sexist? He owned it, I think.  As should she.

Hey, I don’t hate her because she’s a Hunter and I’m a Veggie, or because she can see Russia and I can only see Catalina, or even because of her kill ‘em with kindness Prejean-like smile (the new duo) when she’s sticking it to the media—right now I’m just annoyed that’s she’s got better legs than me and I can’t even get to the gym when I press myself to do so.

You betcha I like the cover.

How ‘bout you? “Dislike” her because she’s beautiful? Because she ran away from her term? Because she left those kids on the trail and is now toting them on her book tour? Or just because she’s a little right wing crazy and went rogue on such a good guy like McCain? Or maybe you love her. Speak your mind. Everyone’s free to do so, right?

My Stinky Suspicion of A Bad Idea

Ever had that women’s intuition of a man’s bad idea? I had it Thursday night, and should have listened to myself.

I was planning my girl’s birthday party with a crowd of many coming over, so I asked my husband to pick up some carpet cleaner to spot clean. Somehow that translated into my Mr. Tool Time “arh-arh-arh” and a call for him to strap on his testosterone belt and go rent an industrial cleaning machine. For some reason, I went with it.

Fast forward 2 days after the soaked carpet has mostly dried, and there we were cutting the birthday cake with my crowd of many. Suddenly, this smell of diapers meets wet dog meets wet towel meets stinky shoes wafted over me. What in the world?

I opened windows, sprayed air freshener, lit candles, nothing worked—and I couldn’t figure out what it could be. Then, I stuck my face in the carpet. Good God almighty! What had he stirred up? It’s one of those smells you never forget. It stays with you, in your mind, in your memory, in your membranes—and in your carpet.

After talking to a pro, I realized the smell kicked in that day because my husband turned on the heater in the morning to dry out the carpet, which actually activates the leftover moisture and moldly, wanna-pass-out smell.

So now my $5 can of Woolite carpet cleaner has turned into a professional carpet cleaner job needed STAT ! (Or maybe new carpet if I find a deal; it’s that bad.)

Smell me later. Hopefully wiser from this one.

Am I alone? What has your Mr. Fix It “fixed” lately?

My OC Swine Flu Party Is On

Who’s in? I’m inviting the flu and embracing the Swine. Why wait for the unknown when you could get it over with now?

We’ll have movies, candy, a bounce house, but no antibacterial anything. So come as you are and ready the Tamiflu because we’ll be germ-swapping without a care in the world.

RSVP as soon as you can, as I have to prep the cold compress goody bags.

Cheers, Debbie

PS: yes, this is a total faux party. I had to embrace the ridiculousness, as my neighbor just hit the pediatrician and he said the parties are hitting the OC. OMG, say it ain’t so.

For more on the insanity, visit CNN. And for my Swine symptoms video with local CHOC doc, click here.