Joey Ramone Once Said "Sheena Is A Punk Rocker!"

Know what today is? Well do you? It's the World's First Ever Sheena Easton Tribute Day! Yay! We're going to celebrate all that is the magical wonderment of this Scottish 80's superstar turned present day Scooby Doo voice-over actress. Remember, this is 'For Your Eyes Only,' you lucky, lucky Smiling Infidel readers.

Come, 'Strut' right over here and let's talk about 'The Lover In Me,' because 'We've Got Tonight....... Who Needs Tomorrow?' I ate a deli sandwich for breakfast- So, if you want, we could talk about 'The Liver In Me,' instead. Has anyone ever told you that, 'U Got The Look, You Must Have Took A Whole Hour Just To Make Up Your Face?' Oooh la la, that extra layer of Chapstick and the smell of your hemorrhoid cream is HAWT! Perhaps, we should just chat on the 'Telefone,' since 'My Baby Takes The Morning Train,' and he could come strolling in at any minute. No, you perv- My baby does jump on the morning train, but Thomas The Tank Engine ain't got nothing to do with it. Would you care for a snack? How about a taste of my 'Sugar Walls?' Yeah, in my spare time I build model doughnut shop replicas out of nothing but sugar cubes. It's a gift. My other hobbies include competitive eating and champion leapfrogging. Sadly, the two sports vastly contradict each other. When I play leapfrog with my baby, he always loses and decries, "I was 'Almost Over You!'" Almost, but not quite. Poor thing.

Wait.....where are you going? To the Anne Murray Tribute down at the next blog? Traitor. 'You Could Have Been With Me' and Sheena Easton. At least I can count on Prince and Kenny Rogers sticking around for my Sheena Easton Tribute. Their royalty checks depend on it.......

Just Your Typical, Everyday, Ordinary, Run-Of-The-Mill Garden Variety Needles...

Occasionally I do enjoy a good poke......just not from needles. I'm ashamed to admit that I've engaged in conduct most unbecoming for a self-proclaimed ardent conservative. You see, my neighbor and I have established an impromptu Needle Exchange Program right in the heart of our blissfully serene H-town suburb.

People outside our fair city can't begin to fathom the extent of our needle problems here. We constantly find unsightly piles of the filthy things all over our yards, driveways, and curbs. They're sharp little suckers too-thus preventing us from walking around outside barefoot. Gradually, I began to notice my neighbor slyly moving the dirty needles off his lawn and onto mine. Well, I'd return the favor with a blow job from our leaf blower. Heavens no, did you really expect me to touch needles with my delicate Infidel hands? And so, the silent, ritualistic Dance Of The Needle Exchange has continued over the past few years, ebbing and flowing with the bounty of discarded..........









PINE needles from our yards. Crap. Cleaning up the endless stacks of fallen pine needles is such a gigantic pain in the patootie. It's like a freakin Pine-Needle-Palooza around here! I always love it when my inconsiderate neighbor negligently forces me to scoop up all his tree debris too. I'm a very mature adult role model to my children for saying, "Oh yeah? Oh yeah??!!!!? Well, TWO can play that game, buddy!" while chucking his crusty pine needles back at him along with a few of my own. Instead of pining away about the situation, maybe I should just ruthlessly needle him about his errant behavior?

Infidel Word Of The Day

KOWTOW

After a warm bath, Infidel son number #2 enjoys the KOWTOW treatment!

He's fiercely protective of his cow towel, and refuses to KOW-TOW to anyone........

*I love this picture of him. He looks more like a raging bull than a sweet little Elsie cow.*

This Writing Technique Earned The Erik Estrada Seal Of Approval!

The August gathering of the Creative and Radical Alternative Penmanship Society, or C.R.A.P, will now come to order.

Our exclusive writing review board is a little short-staffed after the big Agatha Christie Poison Pen fiasco last week. Our condolences to the families. We're playing things a little safer this time by showcasing the finest in edible ink.

Voltaire had his favorite feather pen which, if he were alive today, would likely heatedly argue with Captain Feathersword of The Wiggles over which is mightier- The feather pen? Or the feather sword? At C.R.A.P, we eschew classic writing traditions, and opt instead for the unique. Our reviewer, Sunbum, has donned a lovely sombrero for the occasion, and filled her ink well with picante sauce to test its worthiness as a viable ink substitute. Armed with a bowl of tortilla chips, Sunbum carefully pens an important message onto the scrolled paper.

Weary of people telling her that her writing lacks zest and verve, Sunbum happily reports that chronicling her thoughts with salsa adds an instant spiciness to everything, with little to no effort. Quotes Sunbum: "I imagine that this is what a Penmanship Class in Mexico must look like. Tables filled with fresh hot sauce and tortilla chips, just ready for their eager pupils to create a written masterpiece with."

Indeed. Who wants to enter the strenuously choreographed world of salsa dancing when you can sit on your butt and become a salsa writer instead?

Sunbum had only one lament about using the Chip N Dip process. She advises that it's a technique best used when accompanied by a huge writer's block.....of cheese!
Next week, our reviewer will travel back to the beginning of writing instrument history by using a bug-eyed squid to recapture the pen and ink basics.

Sweet Dreams Are NOT Made Of These! (Who Are You To Disagree?)

One week has already trickled past since my triumphant return from the great Colorado Bloggy Sistah Expedition of 2007. I didn't mention it before-hand while writing up all the details of our weekend hootenanny, but I experienced a strangely vivid dream about traveling to Colorado an entire week before Annie and Carrie called to invite me. Yes, I really did. I woke up snickering and thinking, "That's crazy. I never go anywhere, let alone dropping all my responsibilities to jet off to a state I've never been to, to meet women I've never met before." Eerily enough, true to the consistently pre-cognitive nature of my night time visions, things materialized in real life as they had unfolded in the dream.

Stephenie Meyer, author of the phenomenal Twilight Trilogy, wrote the first book based solely on a dream she had. Encouraged, I thought, "If only I could just concentrate and remember the stuff in my dreams with more detail, then maybe I can sell a lot of books and make a lot of money too."
It's disturbing, but I can't seem to stop dreaming about all my new blog friends turned real life friends. It's starting to creep me out. For instance, last night I dreamed of the whole lot of us taking a hay ride, pulled by a tractor, through a small town. It stopped at a little shopping mall and we all piled out to go inside. I noticed the three screen movie theater immediately and noted that the marquee showed movies entitled 'Infidel 1,' Infidel 2', and 'Infidel 3.' I excitedly remarked to NCS that I didn't know there was an Infidel movie series. Then Annie, NCS, and I wandered into a shop that specialized in Mexican candies and treats, and one whole wall exhibited an astonishingly colossal assortment of cotton candy flavors. We walked over and saw they had Golden Turkey Cotton Candy, which was sold out, and Carrot Cotton Candy. I'm assuming that the Carrot Cotton Candy tasted like a vegetable and not, in fact, like Carrot Jello. Earlier in the week, I dreamt of Carrie and the gang all gathered together at the hotel when a suspicious looking fellow with a large metal hook for a hand checked in. Later that night, I nervously asked Carrie if that was such a good idea to let him stay there and she erupted with a mischievous chuckle as she told me that she switched his hook hand for a harmless plastic hanger. Relieved, I went to sleep, only to wake up to blood-curdling screams as the man desperately tried to make Carrie part of his hook-handed urban legend, but was instead slashing the air with his new plastic hanger appendage in futile frustration.

It scared the crap out of me. My kids broke out laughing when I told them about it. My kids are weird.So there you have it. What say you? Do you think I can transform stomach-churning Cotton Candy flavors and tales of plastic hanger-handed serial killers into a best-selling literary series? Can I count on your support?

I Want All Of You To Become Rabid Fans Of The Smiling Infidel And I've Got A Cost Efficient Plan To Do It Too!

Are you tired of scouring high and low for some decent Rabies prices? Do all your friends have Rabies and you're tired of feeling like the odd one out? Well, today's your lucky day! Just fly down to Houston, Texas in the good old U S of A, because we've got your cheap Rabies hook-up right here. For less than the cost of Meatloaf's Bat Out Of Hell CD, you too can experience the exhilarating thrill that only the Rabies Virus can bring. Yay! No longer will you have to suffer through watching Old Yeller, wondering when you'll get your turn. No longer will you have to drink the super foamy whipped frappucino at Starbucks so you can feign frothing at the mouth. No longer will you have to blame bi-polar disorder for your random acts of Bat Sheet Craziness. No, my friends, your time for reduced rate glazey-eyed madness has finally arrived!

The Smiling Infidel Gets Rocky Mountain High!

I finally have a few minutes to put together pictures from the grand Colorado Bloggy soiree this past weekend. Nobody likes to read a lot of blah blah, so I'll just let the pictures do the talking.

This is me and Aubrey giving up some Cheese! at the Cheesecake Factory. Yeah, I know, Aubrey's flawless and thin, and didn't spill a drop of food on her gorgeous white tunic shirt either. Could I have positioned myself beside a bigger contrast? Likely not. We met Amber That Crazy Bloggin Canuck and Aubrey for lunch right after our Denver arrival. We engaged in noshing and loads of light-minded laughter.

Annie deftly and swiftly maneuvered our mini-van chariot through treacherous mountain tunnels and roads.......make that roads that descended straight down into the canyon abyss without concrete barriers. Was I nervous? Naaaahhh. We stayed at the fabulously elegant Glenwood Suites courtesy of Carrie(Carronin) and her man, El Jefe. We also Came & Went from the Kum & Go next door and didn't make any crude jokes about it. At all.

Here's a segment of random titillation (I said Tit!) for the men out there who fantasize about having a bevy of beautiful bloggers sprawled out across their bed. Not only did we party with Jim Gaffigan, but we partied in our THONGS! Oh yes, we did. And then I picked up Jim and took him home with me. Luckily, Papi doesn't seem to mind sharing our happy home with a white man.

Carrot and I shared a king-sized bed together without anyone else clamoring for our nocturnal company. Why? Well, because we're the only two that ate chili cheese dogs and I suspect that nobody wanted to spend the night with a coney addict. That's okay. We had each other, and our very own Restricted Access Chili Dog Chick Room.

Suzanne and Tori surprised us all by secretly bringing our Millie Chicken to town! Sneaky Utah people..... Yay! Here we are surrounding Mike The Headless Chicken like his very own Harem Of Hens. Millie and Tori do a hot and spicy battle in an epic War Of The Asses. Tori? The Smart Ass? Who would have ever thought?

We all got in touch with our inner shadow people and had lunch at Annie's house complete with onion rings courtesy of the fabulous Rug's Bug. Annie and Carrie's dad, Big Rich, made my day by telling me he's a huge fan of The Smiling Infidel. Then, their mom said that 'I brought much joy to their lives.' I want that stitched onto a sampler. I got to share my 'Newspaper Carrier Greatest Hits' with Rug's Bug and her husband because I knew that we all understand completely the life and times of a paper slinger, both past and present. I loved getting to meet all the kids and spouses. Loved it! Annie's Secret Agent Man is funny and hawt. No wonder she doesn't reveal his identity on her blog. I also got to see Annie's computer room where all the magic happens.

Yeah, I went up, up, and away in one of those cable gondola thingies, all the while nervously calculating how much we all weighed against the 1,000 pound weight limit. We were a movin on up.......movin on up......to the top! While eating at the mountain top restaurant, Carrie and I solidified our titles as Queens Of Inappropriate Dinner Conversation. Yay us! Think Sex And The City:The Mormon Lite Version. If you ever want to know about the risque hidden meanings to popular songs, just ask Sodak Angel, Carrie, or myself. We know everything.

And then we embarked on a cave tour where all the formations had food names like 'Cave Bacon,' and 'Drinking Straws.' Sodak Angel and I saw things quite differently, though. Fun With Phonics? No, not us. Fun With Phallics? You got it! Carrot was the star of the tour, overshadowing our sweet Natalie Portman look-alike guide with her humour and picking up new people around us to add to our entourage. I have pictures but they haven't been modified to protect the innocent yet.

That vixenish Annie was the only one to manage getting a big screw the whole weekend.

Here's a closeup of my now notorious Pink FIFI bag. We had a big gift exchange too. Well, instead of parting gifts, I got farting gifts. Sodak Angel and Carrot Jello know me all too well!

Have you ever spent an entire weekend surrounded by people who lavish compliments and undeserved praise on you while simultaneously making you snort with laughter? I just did. My girls asked me about my trip and I've started referring to it as the 'ME TOO!' experience because I had so much in common with so many of these ladies, every conversation turned into me saying 'ME TOO!' The best part though, was coming home to my six kids who actually missed me....and showed how much they missed me by the mountainous clothes pile stacked and waiting for me in the laundry room. Papi missed me so much, he endured over an hour of hearing every minute detail of the weekend.

Thank you so much Annie and Carrie for providing us with a place to meet and frolic and wet our pants from laughing so hard. Okay, maybe only one of us wet our pants from laughing so hard. I always bring extra undies in case of unforeseen events. I love all of you people in ways that I never imagined I could before. Thanks for the memories. In Carrot's case......FRANKS for the memories!

Wow, That Smiling Infidel Chick Is Really Workin It!

Complete and total exhaustion always signifies a great vacation! I stepped off the plane from Colorado yesterday and plunged right back into my little world of late paycheck stress, bills, and work. Ahhh, how I loved the blissful weekend escape with all my bloggy sisters. Thanks Annie And Carrie!

Contrary to the sign, I'm not a man at work at all. No, I'm more like a working girl. Well, not an actual, you know, working girl. More like a Mistress Of Manual Labor. I'm on my way to work right now but I wanted to post something lest anyone thinks that Annie and Carrie kidnapped me and made me an honorary Colorado sister. How I wish! Read you all later.

This Weekend I Will Finally Prove That My Elvis-Like Sideburns Are Real And Not Sideburn Toupees!

Have you heard? I'm going to be getting high this weekend. Yeah, really high. Really, really high. Don't worry, other people will be there getting high too.......Rocky Mountain High, that is!
Yes, The Smiling Infidel is boldly going where she's never gone before. I hope the fine citizens of Colorado are prepped and ready for the Bloggy Women Invasion of 2007!

I've been practicing all my best John Denver moves in preparation for the trip. You should see the routine I choreographed to 'Sunshine On My Shoulders.' It would make you weep. WEEP, I tell you! I was a little disappointed to find out that Bob Denver a.k.a Gilligan doesn't actually live in Denver. Apparently, he's not living..... at all.I've fretted about, wondering what to wear for a seeming eternity. And then, it dawned on me, I already have the super official Mork Rainbow Suspenders from The Mork And Mindy Fan Club, and they did live in the state of Colorado, so it must be acceptable attire there, right? So, I'm going to dress like Mork all this weekend. (Hairy Chest And Feathered Wings Hair Not Included)

I'm very much looking forward to the Coors Brewery Tour too. What? Didn't somebody schedule us in for the Special LDS Women Factory Tour? Maybe they'd rather take their chances with a bunch of drunks than us rowdy chicks!

And finally, I plan on really taking the bull by the balls horns this weekend by trying out a little Colorado cuisine........
And chicken dancing with the famed Mike The Headless Chicken of Fruita, Colorado. He was even once an esteemed Presidential candidate.
And here's where I name names. I'll be getting high with a little help from these friends:

The fantastic Colorado sisters who organized this......Miss Hot Fruita Mom Annie and Carronin!

Amber That Crazy Bloggin Canuck

Carrot Jello

No Cool Story

Aubrey

Suzanne

Tori

Sodak Angel

And we'll all be missing Millie Chicken terribly, who's currently incapacitated with her broken chicken foot. :(

I won't be around 'Til Tuesday. Yeah, like the group. So, um, shush, keep it down now, Voice Carry! Later.

Walking Down The Store Aisle Is Reminiscent Of The Day I Walked Down The Aisle With My Papi

A simple trip to the grocery store always serves to remind me of the boundless love that Papi and I share and how it all came to pass. The aisles, practically brimming with symbolic reminders of our life together.

Papi went looking for some White Snuggles......and he surely did get what he was seeking! Obviously, I trounced the competition who advertises that a golden brown whole wheat equates to wholesomeness. Well, I guess Papi didn't want something healthy for him. Ha! Oh, wait a minute......

Papi and I shared nothing in common except the same employer. So, when he continued persistently pestering me, the resident workplace heathen, to go to church with him, I thought he was full of.......

(Well, not really. But they don't sell crap manure at the grocery store, now do they?)

And then, while only two months into our courtship, and many stomach lurching dates down at Pancho's Mexican Buffet, Papi proposed to me. Yeah, I know, that guy has some big......

Stop that! I can read your calculated little minds. You're putting together and computing short dating time along with a seemingly hasty marriage. Well, I most certainly was NOT ........

Nice And Easy just isn't my style. Rather, I'm more of a......

kind of gal!

Papi and I enjoy a glittery fairytale ending, and it's definitely not a classic boy gets girl yawner like Cinderella And Prince Charming. Neither does comparisons to The Princess And The Pea. Aside from the fact that I do re-enact the story everytime I serve split pea soup for dinner. Our story isn't even relatable to Beauty And The Beast, althoughPapi often calls me a beast. No, ours is a happy union of a salty white cracker coupled with a spicy Mexican tortilla. I'm so very glad that Papi likes..........

JUMBO BUNS!!!!

It's Sasquatch Day Down At The Salon!

After 33 years of waiting, I finally got to experience the thrills of my 'first time.'

I've listened to many a people talking excitedly about their blissfully fantastic first time, but I chose to abstain from such things and hold out because I didn't want an impugned reputation as a 'painted lady.' Well, on Friday I finally did the deed.....

.......and got a pedicure!

My mom treated us both to a nice hour at the spa because she didn't want me going to Colorado with ugly feet. Yeah, what people think of my feet are the least of my worries when I'm about to meet a veritable buttload of dazzlingly gorgeous and witty bloggy women this weekend.

So, our spa venture just wouldn't seem complete without a nice waxing. I've never waxed anything, unless you count waxing nostalgic or waxing poetic. Or the time I kissed the Turtle Wax boy from the car wash in my wild youth..... Anyway, the very petite Vietnamese lady had me plop my hulking frame down in one of the salon chairs that backs up to a sink so I could lay down and get slathered up in hot wax on my upper lip. The warmth of the honey-like amber wax made me feel all comfortable and cozy until......she let it RIIIIIIIP! Without warning, the lady yanked the gauze off the left side of my mustache. Reacting to the immense pain, I slid down the vinyl chair, all the way to the floor. Did I get any compassion or caring? No. The lady called out in her sing-songey language to all her salon co-horts so they could enjoy the show too. And then she smiled big, and patted the seat as she instructed, "You get back in chair now. Me have one more side to do....."

And now you know why Bertha The Bearded Lady down at the circus was that way- Obviously she had a deep-seated phobia of hair removal products. I'm so never getting waxed again. Do you think Melissa The Mustachioed sounds nice? What about Melissa And Her Malevolent Man Whiskers Of Mayhem?