The Rebel Deb's Pick of the Week

Check out Coffee to a Tea in downtown GreenVegas -- my new favorite place for sweet treats and good eats!

Conan the Destroyer

People of Earth:

In the last few days, I've been getting a lot of sympathy calls, and I want to start by making it clear that no one should waste a second feeling sorry for me. For 17 years, I've been getting paid to do what I love most and, in a world with real problems, I've been absurdly lucky. That said, I've been suddenly put in a very public predicament and my bosses are demanding an immediate decision.

Six years ago, I signed a contract with NBC to take over The Tonight Show in June of 2009. Like a lot of us, I grew up watching Johnny Carson every night and the chance to one day sit in that chair has meant everything to me. I worked long and hard to get that opportunity, passed up far more lucrative offers, and since 2004 I have spent literally hundreds of hours thinking of ways to extend the franchise long into the future. It was my mistaken belief that, like my predecessor, I would have the benefit of some time and, just as important, some degree of ratings support from the prime-time schedule. Building a lasting audience at 11:30 is impossible without both.

But sadly, we were never given that chance. After only seven months, with my Tonight Show in its infancy, NBC has decided to react to their terrible difficulties in prime-time by making a change in their long-established late night schedule.

Last Thursday, NBC executives told me they intended to move the Tonight Show to 12:05 to accommodate the Jay Leno Show at 11:35. For 60 years the Tonight Show has aired immediately following the late local news. I sincerely believe that delaying the Tonight Show into the next day to accommodate another comedy program will seriously damage what I consider to be the greatest franchise in the history of broadcasting. The Tonight Show at 12:05 simply isn't the Tonight Show. Also, if I accept this move I will be knocking the Late Night show, which I inherited from David Letterman and passed on to Jimmy Fallon, out of its long-held time slot. That would hurt the other NBC franchise that I love, and it would be unfair to Jimmy.

So it has come to this: I cannot express in words how much I enjoy hosting this program and what an enormous personal disappointment it is for me to consider losing it. My staff and I have worked unbelievably hard and we are very proud of our contribution to the legacy of The Tonight Show. But I cannot participate in what I honestly believe is its destruction. Some people will make the argument that with DVRs and the Internet a time slot doesn't matter. But with the Tonight Show, I believe nothing could matter more.

There has been speculation about my going to another network but, to set the record straight, I currently have no other offer and honestly have no idea what happens next. My hope is that NBC and I can resolve this quickly so that my staff, crew, and I can do a show we can be proud of, for a company that values our work.

Have a great day and, for the record, I am truly sorry about my hair; it's always been that way.

Yours,

Conan

How to Make a Michael Cera Movie

CLICK ON the pic below to ENLARGE!!

How I Feel on a Monday Morning

Dog Park Politics: They're SCARY

Another Post-Hump Day Joke

Another funny one from the Net...

An old blacksmith relized he was soon going to quit working so hard. He picked out a strong young man to become his apprentice. The old fellow was crabby and exacting. "Don't ask me a lot of questions," he told the boy. "Just do whatever I tell you to do."

One day the old blacksmith took an iron out of the forge and laid it on the anvil. "Get the hammer over there," he said. "When I nod my head, hit it real good and hard." Now the town is looking for a new blacksmith.

xoxo,
Rebel Deb

A Great Dog Joke!

A dog joke from my friend and writer of the EXCELLENT web series,The Sanctum, Megan Wilson...

Four workers were discussing how smart their dogs were. The first was an engineer who said his dog could do math calculations. His dog was named "T-Square", and he told him to get some paper and draw a square, a circle and a triangle, which the dog did with no sweat. The accountant said he thought his dog was better. His dog was named "Slide Rule". He told him to fetch a dozen cookies, bring them back, and divide them into piles of three, which he did with no problem. The chemist said that was good, but he felt his dog was better. His dog "Measure" was told to get a quart of milk and pour seven ounces into a ten ounce glass. The dog did this with no problem.

All three men agreed this was very good and that their dogs were equally smart. They all turned to the union member and said, "What can your dog do?". The Teamster called his dog whose name was "Coffee Break" and said, "Show the fellows what you can do". Coffee Break went over and ate the cookies, drank the milk, went to the bathroom on the paper, claimed he injured his back while eating, filed a grievance for unsafe working conditions, applied for Workmen's Compensation and left for home on sick leave.

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Apartment-Hunting: It's Not for the Faint of Wallet

Besides diving into our new, kick-ass workout routine, the boyfriend and I have been apartment-hunting the past few weeks. We're currently in the East Village (Manhattan), and hope to stay here... but ya'll have no idea what New York apartments look like, or the lows residents of this island must stoop to in order to live here.

For example, our current STUDIO apartment costs $1820/month! Our new one (if we're approved) costs *only* $1520. For 375 feet of space! Can you believe that? In North Carolina, $1520/month would buy us a mega FAT mortgage for a three to five bedroom house. Here? It buys us a fifth-floor walkup with a toilet right next to the tiny cat-food tin of a tub.

Put simply, for what we pay in a year for this (our entire apartment)...




We could probably afford this...




Then again... the jobs pay WAY more up here than down in NC. And if you can actually find one in NC, you're lucky. So, we're stuck here in the Village for now. *sigh*

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Sometimes, Folks Aren't as Innocent as They May Seem...

Attack of the Body Snatcher!

Just so no one's confused... this is a repost from the Net:

"This is an explanation to those friends and family who have experienced mysterious switches of their body parts. This effect is especially noticeable in January.

You may have read of the scare story about the man whose kidneys were stolen while he was passed out. Well, read on. While the kidney story was an urban myth, my story is true - it occurs to me practically every day.

My thighs were stolen from me during the night a few years ago. It was just that quick. I went to sleep in my body and woke up with someone else's thighs.

The new ones had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Who would have done such a cruel thing to legs that had been mine for years? Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine? I spent the entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans and Sheer Energy pantyhose.

Then, just when my guard was down, the thieves struck again. My butt was next.

I know it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my new rear end (although badly attached at least three inches lower than my original) to the thighs they stuck me with earlier.

Now, my rear end complimented my legs, lump for lump. Frantic, I prayed that long skirts would stay in fashion.

It was two years ago when I realized my arms had been switched.

One morning I was fixing my hair and I watched horrified but fascinated as the flesh of my upper arms swung to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush.

This was really getting scary. My body was being replaced one section at a time. How clever and fiendish.

Age? Age had nothing to do with it. Age is supposed to reap, unnoticed, something like maturity.

NO, I was being attacked repeatedly and without warning. In despair I gave up my T-shirts. What could they do to me next? My poor neck disappeared more quickly than the Thanksgiving turkey it now resembled.

That's why I decided to tell my story. I can't take on the medical profession by myself.

Women of the world, wake up and smell the coffee. That really isn't plastic that those surgeons are using. You KNOW where they are getting those replacement part, don't you?

The next time you suspect someone has had a face ' lifted' , look again. Was it lifted from you? I think I finally found my thighs...and I hope Cindy Crawford paid a really good price for them!

This is not a hoax. This is happening to women in every town every night. WARN YOUR FRIENDS.

Yours alarmed,

Peggy E. Leg"

Lock Your Doors! The Old Lady May Be Comin' For YOU

Just so no one's confused... this is a repost from the Net:

"Do you know this person? She's moved in without me knowing and I believe she's here for life.




Please be careful. This person has found her way into my house and could also go to yours.

A very weird thing has happened. A strange old lady has moved into my house. I have no idea who she is, where she came from, or how she got in. I certainly did not invite her. All I know is that one day she wasn't there, and the next day she was.

She is a clever old lady and manages to keep out of sight for the most part, but whenever I pass a mirror, I catch a glimpse of her. And, whenever I look in the mirror to check my appearance, there she is hogging the whole thing, completely obliterating my gorgeous face and body. This is very rude! I have tried screaming at her, but she just screams back.

The least she could do is offer to pay part of the rent, but no. Every once in a while, I find a $5 bill stuck in a coat pocket, or some loose change under a sofa cushion, but it is not nearly enough. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I think she is stealing money from me. I go to the ATM and withdraw $100, and a few days later, it's all gone! I certainly don't spend money that fast, so I can only conclude the old lady is pilfering from me. You'd think she would spend some of that money to buy wrinkle cream. And money isn't the only thing I think she is stealing.

Food seems to disappear at an alarming rate-especially the good stuff like ice cream, biscuits, and sweets. She must have a real sweet tooth, but she'd better watch it, because she is really packing on the pounds. I suspect she realises this, and to make herself feel better, she is tampering with my scale to make me think I am putting on weight, too.

For an old lady, she is quite childish. She likes to play nasty games, like going into my wardrobes when I'm not home and altering my clothes so they don't fit. And she messes with my files and papers so I can't find anything. This is particularly annoying since I am extremely neat and organised.

She has found other imaginative ways to annoy me. She gets into my mail, newspapers, and magazines before I do and blurs the print so I can't read it. And she has done something really sinister to the volume controls on my TV, radio, and telephone. Now, all I hear are mumbles and whispers. She has done other things -- like make my stairs steeper, my vacuum heavier and all the knobs and taps harder to turn. She even made my bed higher so that getting into and out of it is a real challenge.

Lately, she has been fooling with my groceries before I put them away, applying glue to the lids, making it almost impossible for me to open the jars. She has taken the fun out of shopping for clothes. When I try something on, she stands in front of the dressing room mirror and monopolises it. She looks totally ridiculous in some of those outfits, plus, she keeps me from seeing how great they look on me.

Just when I thought she couldn't get any meaner, she proved me wrong. She came along when I went to get my picture taken for my driver's license, and just as the camera shutter clicked, she jumped in front of me!

I hope she never finds out where you live."

The Rebel Deb's Resolution: Publish More Funny Stuff!

Just so no one's confused... this is a repost from the Net:


"Dear Lord,

So far this year I've done well.

I haven't gossiped, I haven't lost my temper, I haven't been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish, or overindulgent. I'm very thankful for that. But in a few minutes, Lord, I'm going to get out of bed, and from then on I'm probably going to need a lot more help. Amen."

New Year's Eve, 2009! Looks Like It's Gonna Be Me and the Drag Queens Tonight

Why is it so hard to simply *not* eat chicken wings?

Just so no one's confused... this is a repost from the Net:
Old Bay BBQ Sauce
1/2 Cup Sweet Baby Rays BBQ Sauce
1 Cup - Apple Cider Vinegar (I only had white, so that's what I used, Apple Cider would have been better)
2 TBS - Old Bay Seafood Seasoning
1 TBS - Dehydrated Minced Garlic (Fresh can be used)
1 TBS - Dehydrated Chopped Onion (Fresh can be used)
2 TBS - Butter
Combine all ingredients and bring to a boil.

Holy Crapola! It's So Cold Outside I Can't Even Walk My Dog!

It's Almost New Year's! Time for a Royal Rebel Deb A**-Kickin'

My boyfriend and I just started a new, butt-kicking workout routine. It basically involves 30 minutes of me doing this...














While he does this...














Followed by another half-hour or so of this...


So I can, hopefully, end up looking like this...


So far, it's gone really well. We spent all day ice-skating in Central Park, followed by a trek to Whole Foods where we stocked up on whole wheat EVERYTHING, organic meats, yogurt, fruit and nonfat granola. Then, we hit the gym for our usual butt-bustin' (see above). All to try and burn off some of this thinking/writing/sitting on your butt weight we've both gained over the past two years.

Wish us luck! It's time to start our New Year's Resolution a bit early....

xoxo,
Rebel Deb

10 Things Husbands (of Rebel Debs) Should Never Do...

By Diane Oatis
(borrowed from Yahoo news!)

"Guys, we love you, we really do. But as wonderful as you are, every so often you do something that makes us want to jump out the nearest window (or push you out first). Please, please, don’t ever…

1. Offer to “babysit” your own kids. When your 16-year-old neighbor does it, it’s called babysitting. When a parent does it, it’s called child care, and it lasts for at least 18 years. Get it?

2. Imply that office work is harder than housework. At the end of a hard day, there may be smoke coming out of your ears, but let’s face it: You’ve basically been sitting on your butt. That same smoke is coming out of our ears too—but we’ve cleaned the house, shuttled the kids around, run errands all over town and lugged grocery bags besides. When we say we’re exhausted, we are exhausted.

3. Give a home appliance as a gift. Forgive us if we can’t work it up for this one. A new washing machine? Really? Can we get you some new snow tires?

4. Buy us the “cougar” perfume. Under our crew-neck sweaters may beat the heart of an untamed vixen—but most of us don’t want to smell like one. (Nice try, though.)

5. Brag about your driving. This is supposed to let us know that ours isn’t so great. If my husband tells me one more time that he’s been “accident-free since 1978,” I’m going to reach over, grab the wheel and make the car swerve into something, just to shut him up.

6. Be unimpressed by a meal that took a lot of time and trouble. I don’t know whose fault this is (Food Network? Julie and Julia?), but every so often we get the idea that it would be fun to make stock and spend the day basting. If the result is less than earth-shattering, say something nice anyway.

7. Buy clothes without trying them on. We know that the second you get into a department store you start to feel faint, but do us a favor and take the extra five minutes. Otherwise, you know who gets stuck with the returns?

8. Know it all, especially in public. Oh, honey. While you’re going on at length about whatever it is, we’re taking the temperature of the room, and we know everyone’s starting to fidget.

9. Say anything remotely critical about our new haircut. Sometimes getting a new cut goes well; sometimes it doesn’t. Usually we know the difference. Don’t rub it in.

10. Expect a medal for doing a little housework. Umm…it’s your house too, right? For now, we’ll give you the bronze. Maybe someday, if you work hard enough, you can pick up a gold."

xoxo,
Rebel Deb

Santa's Comin' Tonight! Better Chill the Vino...

Vespa Gettin' Friendly with the Neighborhood Dog...

Quote for the Day... "Light travels faster than sound, that's why a person is perceived as bright until s/he opens her mouth."

Butters Discovers Her Theatrical Side

Have a Merry, Zombie Christmas!

Watch out, kid... those brains look mighty tasty!

Justin and I traipsed through the snow last night, schlepping from the East Village of Manhattan into deep, dark Prospect Park, to attend my good friend, Katie's, holiday party. As if the promise free booze, food and friendship weren't prize enough for our travels, this delightful invitation made us committed to the trek:

"I was going to write a long explanation of why we all could use a party, and how we haven’t seen some of you for too long, etc. etc. But you know all of that already. Instead I’ll just include this mash-up of us, Little Women, and zombies:

"CHRISTMAS won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbled Kevin, lying on the rug.

"It's so dreadful to be poor!" sighed Katie, looking down at her old dress.

"I don't think it's fair for some zombies to have plenty of brains, and other zombies nothing at all," added a little zombie, with an injured sniff.

"We've got father and mother and each other," said Peter contentedly, from his corner.

The four young faces on which the firelight shone brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened again as Katie said sadly, —

"We haven't got father, and shall not have him for a long time." She didn't say "perhaps never," but each silently added it, thinking of father far away, where the fighting was.

Nobody spoke for a minute; then Kevin said in an altered tone,—

"You know the reason mother proposed not having any presents this Christmas was because it is going to be a hard winter for every one; and she thinks we ought not to spend money for pleasure, when our men are suffering so in the army of darkness. We can't do much, but we can make our little sacrifices, and ought to do it gladly. But I am afraid I don't;" and Kevin shook his head, as he thought regretfully of all the pretty things he wanted.

"But I don't think the little we should spend would do any good. We've each got a dollar, and the army wouldn't be much helped by our giving that. I agree not to expect anything from mother or you, but I do want to buy Undine and Sintram for myself; I've wanted it so long," said Katie, who was a bookworm.

"I planned to spend mine in new music," said Peter, with a little sigh, which no one heard but the hearth-brush and kettle-holder.

"I shall get a nice box of Faber's drawing-pencils; I really need them," said Kevin decidedly.

"Mother didn't say anything about our money, and she won't wish us to give up everything. Let's each buy what we want, and throw a party, and have a little fun; I'm sure we work hard enough to earn it," cried Katie, examining the heels of her shoes in a gentlemanly manner."

I love having witty friends, who love to nerd-it-up in literary fashion... with appropriately-timed zombie references... just like me!

xoxo,
Rebel Deb

But I LOVE It, Mr. Angry Barbecue!

This Winter Stuff is for the Birds

This is How I Feel After a Big, Holiday Dinner...

The Apocalypse Awaits (again!), and Its Name is Fluffy.

The Jackasses of 2009...

reposted from Yahoo news...

"Condemning the rich and famous for straying from the public persona may be a ruthless spectator sport, but the urge to forgive the penitent also runs deep. In 2009, the crimes and concessions kept coming, from the relatively mild to the straight-out bizarre. Below, in chronological order, the apologists which drew lots of Web attention in 2009.

• Michael Phelps. One moment, you're a record-breaking Olympian manfish. The next, you're a fallible fellow caught in a misdemeanor. His Feb. 2 apology came swiftly after a British newspaper posted party pics of Phelps with a cannabis pipe. A South Carolina sheriff seemed out to get him, but the gold medalist got away with a three-month ban and losing a Kellogg deal.

• Christian Bale. Foul-mouthed rants seemed so 2007, but the actor cussed out a director of photography on the "Terminator Salvation" set for ruining his concentration. The tape leaked Feb. 2, which inspired a week of remixes and parodies. Bale manned up the old-fashioned way: by calling into the radio station that played snippets all week. As to who owes apologies for the movie's lukewarm reception—that's still unclear.

• Rupert Murdoch. The Post's published apology following its infamous Feb. 18 chimp cartoon (meant to tie together headlines about a chimpanzee attack and the Obama stimulus package) didn't appease many. Chairman Murdoch gave it a go, and got better results.

• Michael Steele. In the March scramble for the title of de facto lead of the Republican party, the RNC chairman agreed that Rush Limbaugh was "incendiary...and ugly." That didn't sit well with the radio host, and within two days Steele clarified his "inarticulate" comments.

• Mark Sanford. How the South Carolina governor's tale of infidelity unfolded over Father's Day Weekend was odd, and so was the tearful and meandering press conference on June 24. Once he started, he couldn't stop talking about his "soul mate" and "crossing the line." The 2012 GOP hopeful may still face ethical charges. His estranged wife? Book deal.

• Chris Brown. The singing/acting prodigy became a villain in a domestic-violence dispute with celebrity girlfriend, Rihanna, on Grammy night (Feb. 8). Brown's posted apology on July 20 received mixed reviews, and the incident inspired dueling albums. Brown—sentenced to a five-year probation—plans to tell all in a Dec. 11 "20/20" interview. For her part, Rihanna has rebounded.

• Kanye West. Slamming a president is one thing, but trashing an ingenue's first VMA Awards moment is another. The hip-hop artist got booted after he interrupted Taylor Swift's Best Female Video win on Sept. 13. His chain of apologies began on his blog (twice), continued on Jay Leno, and concluded with a direct phone call.

• David Letterman. The "Late Night" host had to issue multiple mea culpas: The first was for a poor joke directed at the daughter of then-Alaska governor Sarah Palin. The whopper came in the fall, when he 'fessed up to workplace affairs after an alleged blackmail scheme. The Oct. 5 apology came four days later, reportedly at some urging.

• Steve Phillips. An affair with an obsessed a 22-year-old coworker, a divorce filing from his wife of 19 years, and an October firing: No wonder the only thing left for the ESPN baseball analyst, 46, was to be "deeply sorry" on Oct. 21 and hide away in rehab for sex addiction until the next act."

How 'Bout We Change His Name from "Tiger" to "Cheetah?"

Santa's Little Helper

Black Friday Makes for a Blue Tuesday

Whatever Happened to Getting Lumps of Coal?

Turkey Porn: How our Favorite Birds Deal with the Stress of the Holidays...

Oh, yeah, baby... Eat Mor Chikin...

The Apocalypse Awaits, and It Wears Bumpits

Does Wayne Brady Need to Slap a Bitch?!

The Rebel Debutante on "Mad Men"

Here's what the Rebel Deb would look like, if she were a character on AMC's "Mad Men":
An ounce of Joan with a POUND of Peggy... a gutsy, determined, intelligent go-getter... with a (not-so) secret sexy side... :)

Thank You, PETA, for Keeping Us All Safe

This Time, Santa, You're Goin' DOWN

The (not-so-secret) Secret to Miley's Success...

Gettin' Ready for Christmas with a Lil' Holiday Humor...

1...2... Turkey's Coming for You!

Dat's My Kinda Snowmen!

And, Thus, It Came to be Known by All the Good Little Children of the World as... the Christmas Dildo.