The contents of my closet are probably a little unusual for someone who works a normal job. A woman my age probably should not own as many sports jerseys as she does business suits.

What I do not have is anything that looks like this. Perhaps if I listed actress/rock star/possible nutjob on my resume, I'd own such a get-up:




















Hi Juliette. It's been a while. You aren't dressed up for Halloween, are you? Just another day at the office?

The very witty, clever women at Go Fug Yourself offered this synopsis of the above train wreck. I bow to their genius.

And while we're discussing others...

I read the obits every day. I do this for two reasons: 1) when you live in the same town for 35 years, you tend to know a lot of people. And people die. 2) there's not a whole lot of meat to the local paper anymore, so to get my money's worth, I read every word.

Recently, I read the obit of a North Carolina man who had no connection to the local area - no mention of him living in central Jersey at any time, nor any local relatives. What there was, however, was the following: He is survived by his wife, Lisa; his pets, Rascal and Cubbie; a son, Karl, and his wife, Mandy.

I'll admit, I'm a little curious about what Karl did to his father to receive billing behind the pets. Their holidays were probably interesting gatherings.