Virgie Bell's View: Snits and Knicks

Well good morning from Brian Urlacher country. It is really amazing what a celebrity status can do for the small town where I reside. I will say one thing though ... it does not cause the Albuquerque paper to get delivered. Snit is on in my life and big time.

Here in number 54 country, we are constantly being snowed in. I will tell you the truth, I am mighty sick of it. I need to be outside checking out if God is checking in with the little buds on the trees and other things that interest me about the Almighty's attention to detail. I find it so reassuring that all of the stuff returns to its original state. My pecan tree will not put on even one apricot and you won’t find one pecan on the little apricot tree. As for global warming, I will just leave that up to the Main Man. He seems to do pretty well taking care of stuff like that.

My children now have new cars. Yes sir, every last one of them. I now feel left out completely. I look for my house to be surrounded by crime scene tape and declared not worthy of number 54 country. My children drive by to rub it in that Mom and Jerry are out of step in the wonders of the new and exciting possessions. I came into this world not being quite up to others in that regard, but to be honest it is a little galling that my own offspring are among those that owns all the goodies and I am left to only dream of such. That is life it seems.

Speaking of the Super Bowl, I think Jerry will have to work on that day, but I will more or less watch it. I will for sure be among those who watch the half-time activity. I only hope it does not feature in any way one of the Jackson's. I am just tired of all of their rigmarole. It was mentioned on the net that a picture had finally been taken of Michael Jackson's children and they look nothing like Michael Jackson as if anyone really knows what he would look like. I will forgo forever the quick peek at Sister Jackson's breast flick. When you have seen one boob job you have seen them all. I will gladly forgo anything about the Jackson’s for the rest of my life. Who needs them when you have professional war protesters with boob jobs of their own and are also boobs who need a face lift?

I know that I have overworked this rare delight but I would like to call attention to the fact that I hope the next time I hear of Sean Penn that he has done something about his poor little saggy face or else he would tone down the huge pompadour on the top of his head. I know that he is as proud of his high pompadour as Janet Jackson is of her breast, but after a while you need to get a new gadget to be associated with. I looked everywhere trying to find a star for my topper on my Christmas tree as big as the one on Janet's right breast but to no avail, I had to settle for an angel. The angel did not have a pompadour but did have blonde hair just like Michael Jackson's children. The top of the tree also tilted way over to one side, a dead ringer for when the moon walker held one of these children over the balcony in Germany. It warmed my heart that I could come at least that close to something that is or is not of that famous blood line.

For all I know Prince Charles and the one who laid down her life for her country have gone back to England. As per usual, they did not make much of a splash with the two day visit. Yes, he has his own line of health food. Other than that not much material there. It is just so hard to remember that this was the adultery story of the decade. But there you go. I am just so glad that Di was the bloodline for his children. It gives me hope for future posts on this blog. But to leave you with one important fact: they do not wear panties in England. There they wear knickers. If Fergie is on Dancing with the Stars, I guess we will see her knickers. Until then, I am waiting for my Albuquerque paper and enjoying my knickers being in a twist... See you at the Super Bowl... SUPPORT THE TROOPS!