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Pretty feet are happy feet:


Please raise your big toes and repeat after me:

As a member of the Cute Girl Sisterhood, I pledge to follow the rules when I wear
sandals and other open-toe shoes.

I promise to always wear sandals that fit. My toes will not hang over and touch the
ground, nor will my heels spill over the backs. And the sides and tops of my feet
will not pudge out between the straps.

I will go polish-free or vow to keep the polish fresh, intact and chip-free. I will
not cheat and just touch up my big toe.

I will sand down any mounds of skin before they turn hard and yellow.

I will shave the hairs off my big toe.

I won't wear pantyhose even if my misinformed girlfriend, coworker, mother, sister
tells me the toe seam really will stay under my toes if I tuck it there.

If a strap breaks, I won't duct-tape, pin, glue or tuck it back into place hoping it
will stay put. I will get my shoe fixed or toss it.

I will not live in corn denial, rather I will lean on my good friend Dr. Scholls if
my feet need him.

I will resist the urge to buy jelly shoes at Payless for the low, low price of $4.99
even if my feet are small enough to fit into the kids' sizes. This is out of concern
for my safety, and the safety of others. No one can walk properly when standing in a
pool of sweat and I would hate to take someone down with me as I fall and break my
ankle.

I will take my toe ring off toward the end of the day if my toes swell and begin to
look like Vienna sausages.

If I have been privvy to the magic that is Foot Soup, I will share that knowledge
and experience with the non-initiated.

I will be brutually honest with my girlfriend/sister/coworker when she asks me if
her feet are too ugly to wear sandals. Someone has to tell her that her toes are as
long as my fingers and no sandal makes creepy feet look good.

                           *the end*

Things I wish I'd written:


Things I have written:








Daily Dose...
          a quick shot of humor cures what ails you
Things I have written:








Things I wish I'd written:


Pretty feet are happy feet:


Please raise your big toes and repeat after me:

As a member of the Cute Girl Sisterhood, I pledge to follow the rules when I wear
sandals and other open-toe shoes.

I promise to always wear sandals that fit. My toes will not hang over and touch the
ground, nor will my heels spill over the backs. And the sides and tops of my feet
will not pudge out between the straps.

I will go polish-free or vow to keep the polish fresh, intact and chip-free. I will
not cheat and just touch up my big toe.

I will sand down any mounds of skin before they turn hard and yellow.

I will shave the hairs off my big toe.

I won't wear pantyhose even if my misinformed girlfriend, coworker, mother, sister
tells me the toe seam really will stay under my toes if I tuck it there.

If a strap breaks, I won't duct-tape, pin, glue or tuck it back into place hoping it
will stay put. I will get my shoe fixed or toss it.

I will not live in corn denial, rather I will lean on my good friend Dr. Scholls if
my feet need him.

I will resist the urge to buy jelly shoes at Payless for the low, low price of $4.99
even if my feet are small enough to fit into the kids' sizes. This is out of concern
for my safety, and the safety of others. No one can walk properly when standing in a
pool of sweat and I would hate to take someone down with me as I fall and break my
ankle.

I will take my toe ring off toward the end of the day if my toes swell and begin to
look like Vienna sausages.

If I have been privvy to the magic that is Foot Soup, I will share that knowledge
and experience with the non-initiated.

I will be brutually honest with my girlfriend/sister/coworker when she asks me if
her feet are too ugly to wear sandals. Someone has to tell her that her toes are as
long as my fingers and no sandal makes creepy feet look good.

                           *the end*

The Bushcooker

So, it seemed like a cool idea. Go try out the new Caribbean takeout place during
lunch today. Sarah says it got a great review in today's paper, beautiful day to eat
outside, why not?

So we drive over to the Bush Cooker (as if that wasn't funny enough) and walk up to
the window. It smells interesting and that's promising. Cars are lined up to get to
the drive-thru. We laugh, "ha ha, people actually do read the Journal. Who knew?"

In line, Bad Toupee with Loud Golfshirt in front of me confidently orders a Chicken
Jamaican Patty and an order of fried plantains. So, not having had time to read the
whole menu by the time Cute Dreadhead With Heavy Gold Watch comes to the window, I
just order the same thing, thinking I'll end up with a sandwich.

As we wait, I notice Bad Toupee has black socks and brown sandals on. Niiice. First
day the weather is nice enough to go out without a coat on, and he's busted out the
$4.99 pleather sandals from Eckerds that he bought in 1982 and plans to wear out to
get his money's worth.

He sits on the curb, bites into the Patty and exclaims, "Aaaww boy this is some good
Patty. Just like I had, gulp, when I was stationed in Jamaica."

1. We have an Army base in Jamaica? Whatthafuuuugh?
2. Why hasn't his wife staged a fashion intervention? Do they have adequate lighting
in their house? Did she make his shirt out of an old mumu?
3. Who knew you could get a buzz-cut toupee?

Sarah orders a Jerk Chicken Platter that features the chicken, rice, and veggies.

As we wait, I size up the line.

Hairdresser Who Forgot to Take Off her Black Smock is picking at her head with a way
too-long sculptured, airbrushed nail.

Faded Hornets T-Shirt and Reeeally White Tennis Shoes is looking through some change
from his pocket, and dropping little lint balls into the wind.

Blue Button-down, Loafers With Tassles is holding up his Oakleys to see if they're
scratched. They are.

Girl Who Forgot to Wear her Watch Today and Oddly, Feels Naked, (that's me,)
suddenly notices what's on the sign out front: Caribbean Bush Cooker, 10-3 daily,
Real Island Food Mon!, Ox tails, jerk goat...

No shit.

And then I look at the menu... All of the menu. Back page even. I don't care who you
are, if you're on "Survivor," your cruise ship wrecked and you're starving, you grew
up on a farm, don't be eating no fricasse curried goat, ox tails, neckbone soup etc.
when there's a perfectly good McDonald's around the corner. It's not like we've got
hoof and mouth over here. Stick with the cattle you know and love.

And, where the hell are these goats coming from anyway? Is that LEGAL? You never
heard about Prime USDA Goat at the grocery. There's a reason for that. Ever see
Animal Kingdom? Lions don't go for goats. They eat meaty, pretty animals like
gazelles. Not animals with vertical slits for pupils.

As we giggle over the menu, the people in line actually order that crazy stuff! I
was aware that in the South people eat ALL of the pig, etc., but ox tail? Goat?

Talks With the Kool Cigarette Hanging From Her Lip hugs Black Smock, Head Digger and
orders in code, like she's been to the joint every day.

"Ok baby, gimme some good greens, beans and rice, tail and tea with extra ice."

Huh? How you gonna order "tail" like it's chicken nuggets? That's TAIL. As in swats
flies all day. As in trapped in the cheeks while Mildred the Goat sits down!

I'm trying not to panic. So, we take our little bags back to school to eat on the
Magnolia Plaza. I bite into my Patty, which is like a Jamaican hot pocket but made
of pastry, and find it's LOADED with curry. But it's good. And the plantains,
although cold, are yummy, too. But then my fingers start turning yellow from the
curry...

As I get to the far end of the Patty, I notice it. UPO - unidentifiable poultry
object - lodged against the pastry. Purply brown, gnarly and veiny.
Naaaassssssteeee. Looked like a nad the size of a marble. As in go-nad. As in
gooooooo away chicken genital, I'm trying to eat here!

Sarah, poor dear, cuts into her chicken, which looks totally awesome with that Jerk
rub stuff all over it, and it's bloody. I'm not talking - oh, it's just a little
blood clot in my KFC Extra Crispy, I'll just pick it out - Nah mon. It was like a
scene from Animal ER as her plastic fork hit a vein... you get the picture. Get me a
wad of single-ply napkins. We got a bleeder!

You know, we've been watching Survivor and I've been calling those people wimps and
crybabies. But, after today, I know I wouldn't last a minute.

I tried really hard not to let my prejudices control me, but sometimes, you've gotta
go with conventional wisdom.

Never eat anything jerked by a bush cooker. And pick the patty before you nibble!

VW

Graduation day: Bridget Jones style

*Today was graduation day at the university. Not a fun occasion unless it's you
getting shiny new pen, money, or in the case of our grads, a new car. Wrote this in
Bridget style for kicks.

My day:

1. Up at 5 a.m., stub toe on dogbone as felt way through DARK to the bathroom.
Wonder how anyone who is not rooster gets up before sun on regular basis.

2. Spend 15 mins on hands and knees looking for a second knee-high pantyhose
discarded on previous days that wasn't black (wearing navy pantsuit today,) wasn't
snagged, didn't have a hole. Settle for one perfect knee-high, and one with only
slight snag at toe seam.

3. Arrive at work exactly on time, 6:45 a.m., designated time for media relations
ppl to arrive in advance of media. Miracle. Can't be on time for reasonable 8:30
a.m. everday time, but can today?

4. Office normally steal coffee from, closed. Holy shit.

5. Still raining. Still commence-ing outside. Tradition. Sucks. Am put on phone duty
to answer parents' calls about whether or not rain plan is in effect. Is not. Is
not. Is NOT.

6. 7:55, sent to handle parking cars in the media lot, in rain - no umbrella as need
hands free to juggle press kits, badges, two-way radio.

7. Hair totally out of control. Cursing not getting "curly hair sometimes ok
haircut" instead of "straighten it out every morning" haircut. Can taste hair
products as wind whips hair onto face.

8. Running interference for media cars, moving hordes of students lined up in the
media parking lot out of the way, hollering. Still raining. Afro in full force,
9:10.

9. Move to required position at staging area/media area/tent. 9:20. can see Bush's
cotton candy head in distance. Rain clears. Realize standing in mud puddle at post
next to stage.

10. 9:40 Bush speaks. Mist doubles. Humidity rises by 30 percent, wonder if anyone
behind me can see around my hair. Am caught snickering at tv reporters who are going
apeshit due to lack of umbrella and need to be cute to do report on tv by higher up
at university who tsk tsks me.

11. Have to stand next to photogs (tv and print) while they shoot Bush. Our staff
takes turns crouching down for 10, 15, 20 minutes at a time while the shooters take
their dear, sweet time. Realize quickly that elastic waist pants gap when crouching,
exposing my pink cotton granny panties' waistband. Also that tendons in knees
quickly snapping. Could NOT care less due to humiliation at standing 10 feet from
Bush with loofah-like, hair, toe seams on knee-highs popping, exposing big toes
which oddly feel naked. She is more petite than expected, and younger looking. Good
speech.

12. Shoes officially ruined. Mud. Wet.

13. Return to office in time to receive very LATE audio feed tape of Bush speech
which I am to transcribe for reporters on deadline.

14. After transcription, "proper channels" of editing take more than two hours.

15. Caught reflection of hair in windowpane. Much like baby chicken with feathers
partially plucked. Hair jutting in odd angles forming wings at each side of head
behind stems of eyeglasses pushed up on head.

16. Still office with coffee not open. Holy shit.

17. Steal coffee from other office in far wing of building. Steal extra vanilla
creamer for successful search.

18. Can now die ugly, chicken-headed, exhausted but happy   -ish.

VW

Things You Wish You Could Say At Work

1. Ahhh...I see the f^%$-up fairy has visited us again...
2. I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to
pronounce.
3. How about never? Is never good for you?
4. I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in  public.
5. I'm really easy to get along with once you people learn to worship  me.
6. I'll try being nicer if you'll try being smarter.
7. I'm out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message...
8. I don't work here. I'm a consultant.
9. It sounds like English, but I can't understand a word you're saying.
10. I can see your point, but I still think you're full of shit.
11. I like you. You remind me of when I was young and stupid.
12. You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers.
13. I have plenty of talent and vision. I just don't give a damn.
14. I'm already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth.
15. I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you.
16. Thank you. We're all refreshed and challenged by your unique point
of view.
17. The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an artist.
18. Any connection between your reality and mine is purely coincidental.
19. What am I? Flypaper for freaks!?
20. I'm not being rude. You're just insignificant.
21. It's a thankless job, but I've got a lot of Karma to burn off.
22. Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial.
23. No, my powers can only be used for good.
24. You sound reasonable... Time to up the medication.
25. Who me? I just wander from room to room.
26. And your crybaby, whiny-assed opinion would be...?
27. Do I look like a people person?
28. This isn't an office. It's Hell with fluorescent lighting.
29. I started out with nothing & still have most of it left.
30. You!... Off my planet!
31. Does your train of thought have a caboose?
32. Errors have been made. Others will be blamed.
33. A PBS mind in an MTV world.
34. Allow me to introduce my selves.
35. Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed.
36. Well, this day was a total waste of makeup.
37. Not all men are annoying. Some are dead.
38. I'm trying to imagine you with a personality.
39. A cubicle is just a padded cell without a door.
40. Stress is when you wake up screaming & you realize you haven't
fallen asleep yet.
41. Can I trade this job for what's behind door 1?
42. Too many freaks, not enough circuses.
43. Nice perfume. Must you marinate in it?
44. Chaos, panic, & disorder - my work here is done.
45. How do I set a laser printer to stun?
46. I thought I wanted a career, turns out I just wanted the paychecks.
47. If I throw a stick, will you leave?
48. Sarcasm is just one more service we offer.


All text this column: Copyright 2001, Vanessa U. Willis
*** Have time for a quick rant ?

Okay, so here's the thing. You dash off something funny in a quick email to your best girlfriends, and it ends up being posted all over the Internet (see list below) without your name on it. Not to mention, all the times it's read on radio shows. And, as a frustrated author who really wants her own column, you just can't find a big enough BAND-AID for your ego. If only you had put your name on it to start with, instead of  just ending your email with *hugs* like you normally do.

On top of that, people start editing it and sending it out with their "improvements."

Finally, you end up getting it sent back to you by a long-lost college friend who doesn't know you wrote it because she wasn't on the list of friends you originally wrote it for.

So, right here, right now, I'm staking my claim. I wrote that damn Open Toe Shoe Pledge. Me. Not your office manager, not that dj on the morning show you listen to, not your sister's boyfriend's co-worker. Me. Vanessa Willis.

Okay. My ego feels better now. Thanks.

http://www.ks95.com/thedjs/donnacruz.htm

http://www.geocities.com/littlemiss_stella/fun.html

http://www.lunewsviews.com/word_wise/shoe.htm

http://www.tessenx.com/extras.htm

http://www.ilove102.com/morningshow_4.25.02.html

http://www.histar.com/djs/jeff_jer/starchive/2002-04/sandal/sandal.shtml

http://members.tripod.com/~Nanna_4/mysisters.html
This person even added background music!

http://www.technocursed.com/related_article1013765.html

http://www.joke-archives.com/seasonal/summershoepledge.html
No, sandalfoot pantyhose are NOT okay. I don't know who added that.

www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/liveonline/ 02/weingarten/weingarten042302.htm