Back when I was living in Modesto in 1980...San Francisco during most of or parts of the next couple of years and at home in Tacoma, Washington, I thought my parties...or entertainments...had a certain style. At some point back in the Twin Cities while giving parties in my 16th floor apartment I moved from the BYOB and chips and dips parties that seemed to be standard fare. I now realize that my pretensions to style were ludicrous. There didn't feature nose-picking contests but they were High Tea with the Queen either. Also, I don't consider myself naive. I just realized this is wandering all over the place. That's what happens when you try to watch America's Got Talent and blog at the same time. The point of this is that someone, tonight, told a joke and I didn't get it. Mainly I didn't get it because I wasn't up on some of the latest fads. Here is the joke:

Two ladies bought a lottery ticket together and they won 10,000 dollars to split. One lady says that she was going to get a face lift. The second lady says she was going to get her ass-hole bleached. The first lady says, "I don't think your husband will look very good as a blond."

I had no idea there was such a procedure. How would one know if they needed anal bleaching? I suppose someone could tell you, but if it is difficult to tell someone they need a breath mint, how hard must it be to say....and while I'm at it, you could use a little butt bleach. That reminds me of the guy who took a bath in laundry soap and all his things came out whiter and brighter than ever before. Also, can one assume that if a person doesn't floss, needs to use some hair conditioner, and should stop biting their nails that they also are suffering anal blight? Remember the special lighting in Joan Crawford movies that kept her saggy-neck in shadow? I wonder if candle-light would make things look better under there. Well. I did spend some time on the stage and Max Factor can make anything good. I just have to make sure I keep the make-up sponges separate.