Next week I get my life back. When I pitched the idea of creating a regional creative arts festival someone should have stopped me. But it will all be over Sunday and hopefully I can stop working 12 hours a day.

However I may kill someone before the event is over. Who is at the top of my hit list? Any one of the 300+ idiots who call my office and say "I saw your event listed on your Website, can you tell me what's happening that day?"

Well dumb ass if you saw the Website you also saw the list called scheduled events. Does it make it more interesting if I spend 15 minutes out of my day to read them to you? And do me a favor; don't show up at the festival asking to see me. Just because I answered your questions over the phone does not mean we are friends.

Don't stand there and tell my staff that I am expecting you. And when my staff tells you I am not available don't have a melt down and talk about how you have driven all the way from New York to see me. Just because I said "we look forward to seeing you" does not mean I really want to meet you.

It's just a saying like "take care."

During our amazing vacation in D.C. this summer we spent two days at the new Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery and American Art Museum. While we were there we viewed the incredible Outwin Boochever Portrait Competition. All the works in this competition are amazing. Vistor’s had the ability to use nearby kiosks to vote forteh People’s Choice award.

I had forgotten about the exhibit until I received this e-mail today.

"Subject: You voted for the People's Choice Winner at the National Portrait Gallery.

You have received this e-mail message because either online, or within the exhibition, you voted for James Seward's painting, My Father in the Living Room of Our 10th House.

We would be very interested to know why you chose this portrait from the fifty-one paintings and sculptures on display in the exhibition."
Some of the paintings were so real that the looked like photographs. This one in particular is so unbelieveably real.

H3 voted for the chubby Hawaiian girl, of course.

Now I want to go back and see it all over again.

Megmonster has given me permission to share this funny little tale.

It's 9:30 on a Saturday night in the 'ville and Miss Megmonster is going to visit the lovely Linley and her man Jeffie. Linley lives near a busy section of Bardstown Road across from the Uptown Cafe. Megmonster parks her little Toyota Passeo behind a big truck and proceeds to get out of the car. That's when she first notices it -- a big white, male ass stuck against the truck window.

At first she is stunned so she looks away, but then she takes a second peak to make sure she is not loosing her mind. And yes it's there, but this time she notices a pair of female legs wrapped around his waist.

So doing what any normal (but slightly demented) person would do she runs up to Linley's apartment and announces that there are two people having sex in a truck on the street. Linley and Jeffie assume that it must be their neighbors who love to have sex in public places. Curious, the three go out on the balcony to get a better view. After inconspicuously looking for a few minutes they determined that this is not the neighbor's truck so they go back inside.

Of course curiosity got the better of them, so the go to take another look. By this time the dome light is on and the sexual act is over. But the story does not end here. In a twist that could only happen to my daughter, the man (in his post orgasmic daze) backs his truck into her car. For a moment it looks as if the man is driving off so Megs starts screaming and bolts down the stairs with Jeffie in close pursuit.

Fortunately for Megs, the man does stop and is out of his truck surveying the damage. The damage is light (and since the Passeo is already in questionable condition) Megs tells him not to worry about it. The man apologizes profusely and goes back to the truck to get his business card.

That's when it happened! When he returns he hands her his card and sticks out his hand to introduce himself. Now you can imagine her dilemma, if she refuses he might know that she saw him, but if she accepts she gets to share his biological matter.

Not having enough time to think things out, she accepts the handshake. The man continues to say he is sorry and tells her to call him anytime and he will gladly file the insurance. Then he leaves. Being the intelligent person I raised her to be, she immediately goes into the apartment and washes her hands.

So what does she do next? She calls me of course, knowing that I would love the entire tale. When I ask her to read the business card she gets quite a chuckle when she reads that he is the Director of Health Safety for a major corporation.

Of course my devious mind is racing. She has his name, his company, his position and his e-mail. Can you imagine the fun I could have with a few anonymous e-mails that say "I saw what you did” or posting his name and company in this blog.

So the moral of this story is …you never know who is watching so be careful where you do it. But if you can't be careful, make sure you're fully out of that orgasmic daze before you leave the scene of the crime.

Am I missing something or does this suggestion seem scary?

Test weapons on U.S. mobs