I had the best intentions of writing this post yesterday, but I was so excited to finally have a locksmith show up with a key to my Jeep that I decided to celebrate by taking it for a ride around town. I was enjoying a warm, spring drive with the windows rolled down when my wardrobe malfunctioned and the wind blew the handkerchief I was wearing as a top right off my body! OH NO! In a frantic effort not to expose myself to the Windy City, I grasped for the fluttering garment and accidentally knocked my shiny tiara right off my head. It landed resting on my nose and the sun glaring off the glistening diamonds had me seeing spots for several hours. I couldn’t see clearly to write my post. A CATastrophe, indeed.

Things like this should not happen in America! I tried to call The Wiseman Donald for help, but he was otherwise occupied determining the 21st century’s definition of pornography. This is great news because I think the Hysteria Lane red light camera caught the whole incident and I’m running for “Miss RANTastic America” next week. I’d hate for those pictures to be released for publication and ruin my chances. My platform is “CatBoots For Everyone!” I’m really excited about it.

Seriously, I’m finding the coverage of the Miss California USA debacle absolutely hysterical. Major news networks interrupted normal coverage to air the decision regarding Carrie Prejean’s pageant fate to the universe, even though she didn’t win the bigger title and really, would probably be only appearing at local charity functions and at schools giving children important lessons about the US Constitution. Like this:

Ummmmm Carrie, darling, sorry to be the one to burst your bubble, but the First Amendment protects your right to freedom of speech from government interference and constraint. It does not protect you from beauty pageant judges, Satan, bloggers who scribble often funny, but, yes, sometimes obscene words over celebrity pictures, the paparazzi and sometimes even worse, it does not protect you from a response to your words from the general American public, like me. Who, by the way, really thinks you lost not because of the content of your answer, but because you didn’t answer the question posed to you and decided to take advantage of an opportunity to express your personal opinion when it wasn’t even asked. (I know, phew!)

All that matters is if the government is interfering with your right to free speech, so unless some secret government faction whisked you off in the night and threatened, tortured and/or imprisoned you, you are not being punished for your statement, you are learning a valuable lesson that freedom of speech does not equal freedom from consequences. Life is a highway, my dear, not a one way street.

Imagine that you just steered your car off that one way street and are now driving down a major boulevard through the United States of America. The traffic is not just moving freely in opposite directions, there’s a whole lotta stuff going on in those intersections, as well. That’s why they have red lights on occasion. They force you to stop, pay attention to what’s going on and give people who are traveling in a different direction the ability to move forward at times. Sometimes this happens without incident and other times, there are major crashes.

On the road of life, some of the drivers passing you will give a friendly wave and some will give you the finger and that’s ok. It does and should happen in America, no matter what you look like.

Phew! Now that that’s done, I’m free to tackle other important issues like tongue lashing both Jon and Kate Gosselin.

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Yesterday I told you about one of the JessiCATastrophic events that happened this week, my missing key. Before I go continue, the law requires me to post the following notice:

Dear Mr. Bon Jovi,

No worries, it was just me who rode my bicycle past your window last night and roller skated past your door at daylight. Unfortunately, the locksmith didn’t show up with my Brand New Key so I ride my bike, I roller skate and don’t drive no car. I don’t go too fast, but I go pretty far.

Pursuingly, The Rock Chick

Yeah. Seriously. He didn’t show, (ARRRRRGH!) but he did call in the evening and told me that I get to wait for him all day on Wednesday now. The economy sucks, businesses are closing or filing bankruptcy day every day and yet, I can’t seem to get anybody who advertises themselves as an “emergency auto locksmith” to work and I’m just supposed to accept that, I guess.

This is exactly the opposite mentality of my job. My customer service job has become nothing short of a freak show featuring me, center ring, standing on my head and attempting to pull all sorts of things out of my ass in order to please our customers.

Because insurance is an intangible item and hopefully, one doesn’t find the need to file many claims, many people believe that they give their insurance company money for nothing. I hear this day in and day out and I try my best to explain to the customers that they are purchasing protection in case “shit happens”. The economy is tight, I get that. People don’t have money and I can’t say paying my insurance premiums is high on my list of enjoyable activities, either. Then again, neither is dealing with buttholes and they all seem to be out these days, forcing me to want to scream “Holy Bat Shit, Batman” and hermit myself to the comfy and safe nest I’ve assembled in the CATcave.

Disclaimer: Unlike my caped crusader friend, I really don’t have a animalistic alter ego, I just pretend I do online.

This past week alone, I have been called very, very bad names (Perez Hilton, was that you?), sworn at and threatened with physical harm over customer’s insurance premiums. I had a spat (spit?) with one customer who came into the office wildly upset that his neighbor is receiving a multi-car discount and he is not. He only has one car policy, which I might add to this story had lapsed a month prior for non-payment of premium. He demanded a single car discount, which of course, doesn’t exist. (The whole point of multi-car or multi-line discounts is so that you bring all of your policies to one company.)

Red faced and hands flailing, he insisted I add the “single car discount”. I couldn’t because it doesn’t exist. Then he demanded that I remove whatever commission was factored into the premium. I couldn’t do that either because a) I have no idea what that is, b) it would be considered rebating and it’s illegal and c) insurance agents are supposed to work for free now?

I was very nice, even apologizing that I could do none of these things for him when he pulled the old standard, “Let me tell you, I’ve shopped around and found way better rates someplace else”. I hear this day in and day out as well and while it does happen sometimes (not often, really), it’s normally because all insurance policies and companies are not created equal.

Butthole: “So you WILL do something for me or I will take my business elsewhere.”

At this point, I really wanted to tell the guy that technically, he didn’t even have any business here. His one auto policy has lapsed over a month ago, but I’m a nice person so I offered to look over the quote he was given by this other insurance company to see if we were looking at something even comparable. Of course it wasn’t, but even worse, this guy was considering leaving the pleasantness of his good neighborly type insurance company for THIS place. Enjoy.

Perhaps this gentleman and The Eagle Man both share a love of blowing smoke out their ass, I don’t know. I question the judgement of anyone who would actually call that company after seeing that commercial. That’s just, well, freakin’ cuckoo.

Butthole demanded the same rates. I showed him that they are only offering him the state minimum coverage and if that’s what he’d like here, he can have it (and for less money, too!) but I couldn’t recommend that because I knew this guy owned a house insured with another company. Driving is very risky! If he’d like to leave himself open to losing his home as a result of an accident, then by all means, go with the state minimum coverage. If not, then I would recommend him leaving his policy as it is. Well, except for the lapsed status.

Spat ensues. More of a spit, actually. He screamed, he yelled, he flailed and demanded I give him the higher coverage for the lower rate or I’m not going to like what happens. The only thing I told him I was about to do at that point was to call 911 and …

There is was. He wasn’t only blowing smoke out his ass, he was spitting right at me. As I picked up the phone to call the police, he fled and I cursed, “swearapy style” and sprayed myself off with Lysol straight from the can.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!swineflu.swineflu.
SWINE FREAKING FLU!

The best part about this story is that the guy called back the next day wanting to know if I would write his homeowner’s insurance policy so he would be eligible for a multi-line discount.

WTF? NO you freak and I’m telling you, if he comes in again, he’s going to find out what “I’ve got something for YOOOOOOOU!” actually means.

Surgical removal of a Catboot heel. Not pleasant at all.

I hope he has insurance for that.

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Monday was a day that could be labeled nothing short of a JessiCATastrophe.

It started at the crack of dawn when The Hubby and I realized we couldn’t find the only key to our Jeep. I know, we were throwing all caution to the wind by only having one key but to have another key made was almost $200.

-With our insurmountable medical bills, I didn’t have an extra $200 since I bought the car.
-We’ve never never lost a key, but this is probably because we’ve always had a backup key. Murphy’s Law.

We like to consider ourselves flexible, spur of the moment people. We decided that I would just drive the hubby to work. No problem!

Well, it wouldn’t have been a problem if the Jeep wasn’t at the base of the driveway with the car that I did have keys to parked in front of it.

Hubby used his super creative driving skills to back my Kia right over the front lawn and onto the street. My grass (I use that word loosely, it’s more a mix of clover and dandelion with a few grass blades mixed in) already looks like crap so I doubt this made it much worse except in the eyes of my good neighbors on Hysteria Lane. I think one of them gave me the evil eye, but I won’t know for sure until the rash appears.

I spent Tuesday calling auto locksmiths attempting to get someone out to rekey the car. I had already called the dealer, but they insisted they needed the car and I really didn’t want to tow it. After four no-shows and/or “can’t help you because we don’t have that key”, one finally showed up, said no problem and even though he wanted a small fortune, I needed the car.

After setting off the alarm for a good 20 minutes, he said that he didn’t have the necessary key and would have to order it. He’d be back on Friday, which is today. Hopefully, he shows. For some reason, it’s not at all unusual for service people not to show or to skip out on unfinished work in Chicago. I don’t know why this is, but he called me last night to tell me that the initial small fortune he originally quoted me is going to increase to $385.00.

FOR A FREAKING KEY?

Good Lord. I hope he kicks in a brand new pair of roller skates because even if he shows, I won’t be able to afford gas.

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One April may have cried and stepped aside and a May might not have kept her promises, but a certain TV “June” is bustin’ out all over!

It isn’t June Cleaver, but close. It’s Shirley Partridge! Shirley Jones, the Flower Power TV Supermom, always there for her children with a smile, a song and a stenciled school bus, will be appearing topless (at age 75) in an upcoming episode of A&E’s “The Cleaner”.

Jones will portray a “washed up, alcoholic chanteuse” (it’s ok, I had to look it up, too) who attempts to convince her husband that they should go to an AA group or rehab or something. He feels he is too old, so she throws open her bouquets and asks if he’s too old for…well, her buttercups. OK? No, not with me! That’s definitely not OK!

I admit, I might just be a little jealous since nobody is blowing 76 trombones over my own AA (size, not group) cups, but why, Shirley, why would you do this?

Did that Bratt Benjamin only offer the part as All Er Nothin?
You definitely weren’t the girl who Cain’t Say No!

You don’t know what you’re up against
You don’t know what it’s all about
You’ve got so much to think about…

Are you trying to shed your Marian The Librarian image? You already did that, Mrs. P, when you won an Academy Award for your performance as a prostitute in Elmer Gantry.

You’re an icon to many of us so called Rock Chick’s (who also adore musical theater and Partridge tunes), but never mind me. What will your children and grandchildren think? Their hearts might just stand still and not in a Da Doo Ron Ron way.

Shirley, please reconsider. I KNOW I Loved You when you were worried that people would even say you’re in love. I can’t even imagine what they’re going to say about this!

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I have some exciting news! No, Boy George didn’t ask me to sing with him on a remake of Karma Chameleon. Even better!!! I’ve been asked to be a regular contributor to a blog I much admire…Diversity Ink. I can’t even tell you how excited and honored I am to be asked to write with this group.

Earlier this year, my friend Malcolm of Pop Culture Dish opened Diversity Ink along with several other top notch bloggers. His hope for Diversity Ink is as follows:

“One of the reasons the racial divide continues is that members of a particular ethnicity may talk amongst each other about race issues, but not to members outside their race. Also, because race is such a sensitive issue, people are reluctant to come out in the open with any of their views, questions, etc. My hope is that Diversity Ink might lead to the bridging of the divide and the breaking down of some of these walls.”

My first contribution to Diversity Ink is entitled Black and Blue and it’s about the traffic stop involving Ryan Moats and a Dallas police officer. Head on over there, check it out and let me know what you think!

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A long, long time ago my sister and I were given a set of walkie talkies. They were blue and had a distinct plastic electronic smell. We used to use them when we were “out in the field”, either attempting to solve neighborhood mysteries Nancy Drew style for our make believe police department or seeking information to write up in our self-published newspaper, The Eyeball Gazette. Based on that title, you can tell we had the imagination and the determination thing down, but the creativity skills were admittedly a little lacking.

One day, my sister and I were talking and somehow we crossed signals with another kid who probably had the same set of walkie-talkies. He couldn’t have been far, but for some reason I was thrilled with the thought of picking up some sort of device and being able to talk to someone like that. Yes, the telephone had been invented at that time! It just didn’t have the same appeal. You knew who you were talking to on the telephone. It took the mystery right out of it.

I soon learned of CB radios. I remember playing with one with my dad once. We had made a list of all of the cool CB talk we had heard on TV shows so we didn’t sound like dorks, although, using a CB in your basement was probably dorky. I was like 10. What did I know? It should come as no surprise that once the internet made it’s appearance, I was hooked. I loved chat rooms, particularly one called Moms Online on AOL. I chatted for hours with other moms from all over the US, Canada and England. Not only did I meet new people, it was so much easier to stay in touch with old friends via email. I still enjoy e-mail. I like that you never catch anyone at a bad time and even though few share my appreciation of forwarded jokes, I like them because it means someone thought of me. I’m sappy that way.

When I got my first pager, I was thrilled. Now anyone could get me anywhere at anytime, no matter where I was or what I was doing. My husband used to send me cute little notes via the pager sometimes. I adored it. All of this led, of course, to the modern day cell phone, my iPhone, complete with apps that let me access all my favorite social networking things like blogs, Facebook and Twitter. I love that I can snap a picture and send it to anyone in an instant. Text messaging? LOVE IT!!!

To me, these are all wonderful things and used with good intentions, like I use them, they are. Lately, though, I’ve been witnessing a lot of just plain bad and unacceptable behavior happening with these things and I find that terribly sad.

One of my daughters got into a little spat with a friend and the next thing she knew, there were a barrage of text messages from this friend saying a lot of terrible things and calling her names. It then spread to Facebook. My daughter responded probably much more brazenly than she would have, as well, had this conversation taken place face to face or even over the telephone. It’s hard to undo those fighting words, especially when they’re in print and like a thousand friends have read them, as well.

I remember the shock of a “Sex And The City” episode where Carrie’s boyfriend, Berger, broke up with her via Post-It-Note, the non-technical equivalent of today’s mainstream “breakup via text message” phenomenon. Of course, Dear John/Jane letters have been in existence forever, but at least they provided a lengthy explanation of the heartbreaker’s reasoning. But to end a relationship in 160 characters or less? Disheartening, disgusting and despicable and rather cruel.

It seems as though it’s more commonplace that I had thought. Researching this topic a bit, I learned that a lot of people think this is an “ok method” to ending relationships and that Britney and Kevin Federline broke up via text message, along with Carrie Underwood and Chase Crawford. Even Jessica Simpson has been dump via text. A Saudi Arabian man was granted a divorce after notifying his wife through a text message that he no longer wished to be married to her. All he had to do was text this desire to two other people and POOF…it was over.

No one seems immune to this. The Real Housewives of NYC’s Countess LuAnn de Lesseps recently authored a book about Good Manners and Etiquette. It seems her husband, The Count, must not have read it because he told her about his affair and ended their 16 year marriage via e-mail.

I’m curious. Have any of you ever broken up or even ended a friendship with someone via email or text messaging or know anyone who has? Have you ever said something to someone in a text or an email that you would not have said having a face-to-face conversation? Have you ever written something on a social networking site, like Facebook or Twitter, that you now wish you could take back?

I think if I ever did, I would stop using these things. I think they are wonderful if used positively, but if I personally experience the negative side, I’d be shattered and probably want to stop using them. It would be a deal breaker, for sure.

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Because I’m so late in writing this post, I’m sure you’re already familiar with the new reality saga (appearing on TV and Twitter messages everywhere), Blogger vs. Beauty, starring Perez Hilton and Miss California USA 2009, Carrie Prejean. If you haven’t, you can watch the clip below.

Perez posed to the following to Miss California: “Vermont recently became the fourth state to legalize same-sex marriage. Do you think every state should follow suit, why or why not?”

And Miss California replied: “Well, I think it’s great Americans are able to choose one or the other,” she said. “Um, we live in a land that you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage. And you know what in my country, in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman. No offense to anybody out there, but that’s how I was raised and that’s how I think that it should be, between a man and a woman.”

This response drew a most loaded look of disgust from Perez Hilton, who proceeded to give her a score of 0 on the interview portion, which some speculate cost her the crown. He has since shot himself in the foot by calling her a dumb “b-word” while admitting he was thinking “c-word” at the time. Not, not, not acceptable, Perez, and firing off derogatory names and insults is not going to enlighten anyone to your point of view. Get your finger off the trigger.

Interview is a big part of the scoring process, though. No doubt, it’s nerve wracking and there’s also no doubt that the bullets loaded into those questions are not always the same caliber. That being said, I do not think she lost that crown solely because of her personal opinion. Her response was poorly worded, didn’t really answer the question and was wishy-washy.

Slide up and re-read the question that was posed to her. She was not asked if she supported same sex marriage. She was asked if she thought every state should follow the decision already made by four states. That’s not the same thing.

This is an equality question. Marriage laws and definitions are decided by each individual state and states do not have to recognize marriages that do not coincide with their own marriage laws. The Defense of Marriage act Also states that the federal government may not treat same-sex relationships as marriages, even if it is recognized by any of the states. So, basically, even if you reside in a state that considers you married, good luck trying to file a joint tax return.

She has the law and the Prop 8 decision (from her very own state) on her side to answer this question “No”, which is according to her beliefs. Instead she chooses to answer that she thinks “it’s great” that Americans can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage, (a term I admit I’ve never heard before) and then completely 180’s and says that in her country and in her family, she thinks she believes that marriage should be between a man and a woman.

In order for it to be great that people can choose, the option has to be available, no?

So, she agrees that the other states should follow suit? It sounds like it. Oh wait, here comes the next sentence. She thinks she believes that marriage should be between a man and a woman. Well, do you or don’t you? Even if you do, do you still support the choice for others statement that you just made?

Does she think that other states should legalize same-sex marriage? I don’t know. I’m thinking not, but she never answered the question and her statements contradict each other.

I’m willing to bet that she received lower interview scores than did the winner across the board. Miss North Carolina, who won, was asked a question regarding bailouts. Her beliefs were in direct contrast to current policies set forth by the government and in opposition to the President. I didn’t necessarily agree with her response, either, but she answered the question posed to her and didn’t fire a blank or worse, miss the target. Miss California lost because of the way she answered the question, not because of her personal opinion.

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There’s a part of me that will always remain forever young. I’m admittedly fickle and I like trendy things, except for tattoos. (not for the fickle!) I can’t help it. My favorite song changes from week to week. I don’t want costly furniture that I could never part with because of price and other than The CatBoots, I don’t want classic, timeless clothing that supposedly will “never” go out of style.

Like this…

Egads. Is this what Huey meant by “Hip To Be Square?” I adore yellow, but Holy Big Bird, Batman! Was this family portrait taken at a desperate Stepford Wives fundraiser benefitting public television? I’m wondering how the mom’s dress will hold up after the trendy moms beat her silly for dressing her kid in that outfit. Hopefully, the dad wasn’t too seriously injured during the Easter egg hunting accident on the golf course at the country club, either. He appears relatively unscathed except for the obvious PTSD that would cause him to appear in public in that getup.

I’m getting off topic. Anyway, (since I like trendy), I know what’s happening with my kids and the things are lame, way cool items and those they must have to prevent ostracism from society. Having four trendy kids, my house is exploding with an accumulation of trendy crap from over the last two decades.

So imagine my surprise when I asked my niece what she would like for her birthday and was told an “Uglydoll”. An uglydoll? WTF is an uglydoll? A sense of panic overwhelmed me. My kids don’t have uglydolls. I feared we missed a stop or something!

I was told that they are dolls that are so ugly, they’re cute. Ok… I get it…like cabbage patch dolls, pug dogs and E.T.!

Ummmm, no. I arrived at the specialty toy store selling these things and was grossly disappointed. They’re not so ugly that they’re cute. They’re just pretty ugly. Soooo not the same thing.

These dolls (I use the term loosely) reminded me of a t-shirt I sewed in my 7th grade home economics class. Besides being about three sizes too small, I didn’t cut it correctly so the arm holes didn’t line up. The blue thread I chose rather clashed with the pink stretchy material, too.

Had I the foresight, I could have just stuffed the shirt and bedazzled on an eye or three and be taking $20 a pop from the parents of tots and tweens. I could be living in my hermit cave surrounded by plush pink shag carpeting, disco balls and Bon Jovi posters, watching laserdiscs of “I Love The 80’s” on my gnarly 70” HDTV while tweeting my peeps on my iPhone. Sweet!!

All this got me thinking that perhaps I’m a little to eager to follow the trend when perhaps I should be seeing about setting some myself. Perhaps something is in order to celebrate my upcoming blogiversary?

I’d like to sleep on it, but I can’t. One of the kids popped a hole in my waterbed with an American Girl doll clothes hanger. What a mess!

Where’s my ShamWow?

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As you may have noticed, I’ve been refraining from poking fun at celebrities lately. It’s not that I’ve been trying to become a nicer person or anything, it’s just that they haven’t been doing anything all that funny. Simple as that.

Britney never goes out without underwear and jail must have reformed Paris because she’s just not all that fun anymore. Nicole has a baby now and Lindsey Lohan appears to be spiraling so badly out of control that it’s reached non-joke-able territories.

Thank goodness for Rod Blagojevich, that’s all I have to say.

Blago, Illinois’ hair brained, bungled governor, just can’t seem to stay out of the spotlight. Facing almost fingers and toes worth of federal charges (including trying to sell Barack Obama’s open senate seat) that could probably land him several hundred or so years in prison, Blago has decided to use his last few months of freedom to appear on a reality show under the pretense of raising money for his defense, but we all know what a publicity whore he is. Who’s he trying to kid?

I’m not even sure he could assemble a “dream team”. (We’ve all heard the bleepin’ tapes, Blago.)

Anyway, he is asking a judge permission to appear in “I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here!”. They will drop off Blago in the heart of a Costa Rican jungle along with 9 other celebrities “to face fun and comedic challenges designed to test their survival skills.” No word on the other celebrities yet, other than rumors one is Olympian Nanc-Knee Kerrigan. Seriously, to win a competition like that you need to be cunning, crafty and devious. The jungle in Costa Rica is home to a whole bunch of undesirables like biting ants, venomous spiders and poo slinging monkeys. How could anyone be expected to compete against Blago who works with exactly that for a living? It’s really not fair.

Understandably, people are upset about this. Maybe he won’t return? Why should he get special passport privileges?What’s going to happen to his hair with all that humidity?

Am I upset? Not so much. The only thing I’m really upset about is that there’s been a show called “I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here!” and I didn’t know about it! (How could this happen?)

There will be plenty of episodes of “Locked Up: Governor’s Edition” coming up soon. In the meantime, if Blago wants to go bungle in a jungle while awaiting trial, well, that’s all right by me.

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Tweet, Tweet!

Because I SO rock the treetops AND my all-day-long iPhone chirping on Facebook just isn’t enough, I also hopped on the Twagon (Twitter Wagon) and am starting to master flappin’ my wings in 120 characters or less. I know, I know, you get 140, but I learned you’re supposed to limit it to 120 in case you write something so fascinating that someone would want to “RT” ( re-tweet ) it. Needless to say, I am very #wordy and while that flies in the blogosphere, in the Twitterverse, it’s more akin to being a duck on the wrong side of a 10 gauge shotgun. Thud.

I totally suck at Twitter, but I’m determined.

In order to experience Twitter to its fullest, you must follow others and be followed. I currently am following 115 people and have 69 followers. This seems to be a sufficient number for social networking and RANTastic possibilities, but it’s not.

Why? (No worries, I’ll tell you.)

1. I’m following people (ok, celebrities) who are not following me. (Except for Yoko Ono. She even sent me a message!) I can see what these celebs write, but they don’t see what I write. If I respond directly to them, they can see that, but, they probably have 800,000+ people sending them messages. I say the chance of conversation is pretty nil.
2. If I’m being honest, the vast majority of people I’m following are just not all that interesting.
3. Even worse, a lot of the people following me couldn’t care less about anything I’m tweeting. They want numbers, so they are just following people in the hopes of being followed.

I’m finding Twitter to be like every little swallow, every chickadee and every little bird in a tall oak tree are singing away and wondering if anyone is really listening to anybody else? Sometimes it seems kind of lonely.

It’s not all bad, though. The top celebs on my Twitterlist are Michael Ian Black (hysterical!) Ashton and Demi (who are actually entertaining), along with Perez Hilton, Dr Drew, Soleil Moon Frye, one of my favorite authors, Jen Lancaster, and blogger extraordinaire, Dragonblogger. I can always understand what these people write and they usually come up with something clever, funny or endearing to say….err, tweet.

The least interesting person I follow is Office Chair who reports on his farting activity. Yes, it’s true. The only reason I followed him was because I was relatively certain I could understand what he was talking about, which, for me, is problem #4 a lot of the time.

Still, I am determined to master Twitter and hopefully, one day all the real tweeples of J-Cat street and the celebs…Crystal, Dustin, Shelly, Damien, Malcolm and Rex… will love to hear The Rock Chick going tweet, tweet, tweet.

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