Archive for August, 2009

I’m Having An Affair…

Monday, August 31st, 2009

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Kelly Rippa Nude (from memory)

I’m sorry, Pretty, but the guilt is crushing me. I must tell.

ENQUIRER was right. Yes – I’m having an affair with Kelly Rippa. We meet almost every day for an hour at my place, here in Rochester. And when I’m in New York, Kelly books a suite for us at the Waldorf-Astoria (or “Wallass” as we call it – private joke). She only books it for three hours because she’s smart with her money. Of course, in reality, she’d only have to book it for 3-minutes or so – but she tells me it’s the hottest 3-minutes she’s ever felt!

I KNOW it’s wrong – I KNOW! But can the mind say “No.” when the heart says, “Yes, yes YES!”?

I know you’re thinking, amazed readers, she’s not the type of woman with whom you picture me. There’s the age thing, of course (she’s older than most of the women I’ve ever dated) and superficially she seems very superficial but under that naturally, streaked blond hair, resides a shrewd businesswoman’s brain which, along with her obvious talent, looks and personality, has helped Ms. Kelly earn something like $30-million a year. (Beat THAT Brenda Lipshitz!)

Kelly happily chirps on in the morning like a robin in spring – on coke. (Oh, I just heard her tell Regis her Father taught her to drive – with difficulty. She told me the REAL reason: she found it hard to get used to the front seat!)

What’s she like in person? Kelly is just like you see her on TV – funny, smart, quick, supportive of “Rege” (he’s about 105 years old now – Willard Scott gave him a birthday greeting years ago)…..and, yes, astoundingly, goddess-like, BEAUTIFUL. All the magazines rate her one of America’s Top 10 Beautiful and Sexy Women.

Kelly and I always laugh at her incredible “beauty”. Sometimes she waves her feet in the air and yells, “Beautiful? What about THESE?” And it’s true she has the biggest feet in show business – but I love her more for that! It makes her almost human. (We laughingly call her feet – “flippers” – private joke.)

Anyway, it has to be over, Kelly. It’s the right thing NOT to do. And although I don’t want you to call me anymore, you’ll ALWAYS have a place in my heart. Good bye Kelly, my sweet “SCAF”.

love,
franco.


Kelly never needed speech coaching at:

wwPresentationsUnplugged.com

Did Bill Hang Out at a Nude Beach?

Friday, August 28th, 2009

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Bill Clinton may possibly have gone to a nude beach on Martha’s Vineyard this summer. This seems to be “news” on Fox TV, specifically Bill O’Reilly’s “Factor”.  With much snickering and embarrassed smirks (just like in Junior High), O’Reilly finally admitted he didn’t think so – but seemed delighted to run the story and get to the bottom of it.  So, Bill O got to titillate his right-wing nut viewers with ridiculous, heavily-digitized shots of nude sunbathers showing only their feet (!) and still stand on the side of moral prudery.  It was pretty funny.

As someone who has enjoyed nude beaches and resorts across America for many years, I can tell you, it’s certainly no big thing.  At least that’s what many nude sunbathers have told me.

Remember, this is a nation which was founded by a bunch of religious prigs no one else wanted in their countries.  Their obscene philosophies on sex and morality have polluted young minds here for centuries.  If this nation can withstand those ugly ideas (and pictures of a topless Dr. Laura) I think we’ll survive Ex-Prez Bill flopping around in the sun.  Hillary?  Not so much.

Most clients are asked to keep their clothes on at:  www.PresentationsUnplugged.com

Doin’ the Little Schmuck Trot

Wednesday, August 26th, 2009

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Do you do the Schmuck Trot? You know, that little two or three step symbolic run across the road when a driver stops and signals you to cross? It’s usually accompanied by a nod, smile, or wave – and, since it’s only symbolic, it doesn’t hurry things up at all – but it’s kind of nice – and polite.

When I drive and stop for pedestrians when I don’t have to, I’m a little embarrassed to admit I like them to do the schmuck trot. I think of it as a little, visual ‘thank you’ – an acknowledgement of my ‘right-of-way’ sacrifice and generosity.

Of course, not everyone is appropriately grateful. Old people seem to take it for granted that you’re going to stop and can get positively snarly if you rev the engine a bit to hurry them along. Teenagers would rather be caught listening to Lawrence Welk than do the Schmuck Trot. They glare at you and almost DEMAND to be run over! One of these days they’re going to play that game with some maniac who’s just been told he’s got ‘don’t buy green bananas’ cancer and the last thing they’ll do on this earth is kiss the tread grooves of a speeding tire. I’d like to tell them: “accidents” happen all the time, pimple farms!

The worst? People from California. In their state, if a couple of clueless moonbeams is discussing the joy of soy and step off the curb – cars are legally required to slam on their brakes and let them cross. But this is New York! I wonder how many thousands of Left Coaster’s final thoughts were “But he was SUPPOSED to stop!” I know I can personally take credit for at least 2 direct hits and a dozen near misses. I heart New York!

If you make dull presentations, you will be run over at:  www.PresentationsUnplugged.com

Coming: In Time for Christmas!

Tuesday, August 25th, 2009

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The Journey of Crystal’s Angel

© 2009 Frank Paolo

Crystal’s Angel has a daunting task. In addition to being the Guardian Angel of a beautiful, young drug addict, she must now take “Crystal’s Journey”, a symbolic walk through the countrysides of Heaven representing Crystal’s long trek through the horrors of addiction.

Along the way she meets a host of characters – from a wise, old, sarcastic cat named Chickensalad (“Honey, if you need help, why don’t you call Lassie?”), to a disgusting troll who entraps her and will let her out only by paying him in tears (“Tears – you bimbo!  Whadja think we charged on this part of the trip – pesos?”) to the world’s laziest dog (“Cutie, will you push the buttons on the remote for me?”)  to swarms of deadly white bees with extra-long stingers that inject her with the sweet poison that makes Crystal high and many more.

The Journey of Crystal’s Angel is a short book based on an addict’s long road to recovery.  It’s filled with horror, hope, humiliation, humor (lots of humor) outrageous characters, raw language, crushing defeats and, eventually, an inspiring triumph of the human spirit.  It’s no fairy tale – it is based on some women addicts I’ve known.

Many of you know I am a published author of non-fiction. How to Make a Great Presentation in 2-Hours (Lifetime Books; 1992) went into a second printing in less than a year.  It’s still being legally published in some countries and pirated in three more (including China). “Crystal’s Angel” is my first book of fiction.

Currently I am finishing up a few chapters and looking for an illustrator. In addition to the normal channels of book distribution, I hope it will become a featured read in groups like Narcotics Anonymous and drug rehabilitation centers.

If you know an addict who believes in Angels – or you believe in Angels – or if you believe in an addict who believes in Angels, and would like more information, please contact me at fpaolo1@rochester.rr.com

Just Another Man You’re Going to Blame

Tuesday, August 25th, 2009

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Human test trials for the male birth control pill are now going on in England. The pill should be on the market in a few years. The research money spent on this stupid project was wasted.

WOMEN – here’s a hypothetical test: say you meet a really hot guy at a cool party. There aren’t any telltale tan lines of a wedding ring on his finger. He looks like he works out almost as much as you do. He’s clean, kind of good-looking, and is neither a hairdresser nor an interior designer. He’s actually asked you three questions about your life and only spent about three quarters of the time talking about himself. He says he likes to dance (“Well, they all lie a little…”).

A bouncing boobed bimbo shakes on by and he never takes his eyes off you. Bingo! You’re slightly drunk – so you invite him back to your apartment “to talk.” When he actually pays for the cab ride and gives the driver a good tip, you think – “should we rush a June wedding….or wait another month?”

As soon as you enter your apartment, passion melts the wallpaper! Clothes fly everywhere and at one point in the melee, you kiss your own forearm! After tumbling into bed, you open the drawer in your night stand, take out a condom and hurriedly hand it to your new lover.

He smiles and says, “I really don’t need that, Baby – I’m on the male birth control pill.”

WOMEN, Do you say …….

A. “Wow! You really DO have a great sense of humor!” or

B. “You HAVE to – I don’t want to get HIV again!” or

C. “Good! I WANT to have more children!” or

D. “Geez – I thought only prison inmates said that!” or

E. “Right. How selfish of me to put an unwanted pregnancy before your minute and a half of pleasure!”

Male birth control pills will become viable only when women trust men enough to put down the toilet seat every night.

Chance of Winning the Grand Prize? Zero.

Sunday, August 23rd, 2009

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Remember yesterday’s post “A Tax On Stupid People”?  I delivered the unhappy news to win a simple $500 a week for life in the NYS Lottery, statistically, you would have to scratch a ticket every second of every day for 3 ENTIRE LIFETIMES to hit the magic ticket (buying about $8-million dollars of lottery tickets in the process). That was a little disappointing to those of you who had counted on the prize to pay September’s rent. But the good news was you only had to pay $1 for your moronic delusion. Some dopes pay $30!

Of course the chance of winning the Grand Prize is roughly equivalent to walking around your backyard with a bushel basket waiting for a plane to drop $1-million into it. But even THOSE chances – zillions to one – are better than if you have NO CHANCE of winning.

What’s that?

Yeh, sorry. Sometimes there’s NO chance of winning the Grand Prize. Why?

Because someone may have ALREADY won it. WHAT!?

Think of how it works. Some gerbil-like bureaucratic committee in Albany gets to choose a new Lottery game from the thousands that are sent in by New Yorkers who have too much time on their hands. So they run the numbers through the computers to make sure the odds are so stupidly high, even Paris Hilton could see there’s little chance of  her ticket actually winning. And then they set the run of the new game (say six months to a year) and print the estimated required number of tickets to distribute to retail vendors and start the massive ad campaigns.

BUT THEN some nitwit actually HITS the Grand Prize in the first month of a year-long campaign! (It’s happened any number of times.) Uh-oh. There’s only one Grand Prize and eleven months to go. Now what?

“Well New York pulls the game or announces there is no more Grand Prize to win, right?”

Sure, kid. And the cow really jumped over the moon.

Big presentation coming up?  Don’t take chances!  See: www.PresentationsUnplugged.com

A Tax On Stupid People

Saturday, August 22nd, 2009

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Like me. And you – if you play New York State Lottery Games – or any Lotteries bigger than church bingo. The games have been called “voluntary taxes paid by people who are too dumb to understand odds”. Well I understand odds. My rationale is much more sophisticated than that. I pay a dollar or two to dream of winning and you can’t win if you don’t play. Pretty smart, huh? Naw, not so smart. Actually it’s pretty dumb when you know the odds – which you can find on the NYLottery website.

See the pretty ticket above? It costs a dollar. And $500.00 a week for Life is a pretty good prize, right? So here come the official NYS odds for this dream. We’ll start on the smaller prizes first – get ready to WIN!

The odds against winning $1 are 8.77 to 1. For you non-bettors, that means on average, you’d have to buy about NINE tickets to scratch off a dollar winner. But, as the brighter ones in the group have already figured out, you don’t really “win” a dollar because that’s how much you paid for the ticket. So, OK – to win a dollar, you’ve really got to win $2 on the ticket. Odds against a two dollar ticket? About 47 to 1. WHAT? That’s right, Skippy; to actually win a dollar, on average, you’d have to scratch off 47-tickets.

It gets better, right? Right, this is New York State. To win $10, you’ll have to scratch 200 tickets. $100? Get ready to buy 50- thousand, 400-tickets. That’s a lot of buying and scratching for a hundred bucks. And the Grand Prize? $500 a week for Life? Get your coin out and start scratching. Better make it a few coins, you’ll need to scratch 7,938,000 tickets.

Don’t tell anyone though. It kind of ruins the game if you know it would take almost three entire lifetimes of around-the-clock scratching to win $500 a week for the rest of your life. Plus, about $8-million dollars in tickets.

You never gamble on a dull presentations at: www.PresentationsUnplugged.com

Now I Know I’ve Got a Heart, ‘Cuz It’s Breaking

Friday, August 21st, 2009

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Mr. Boo Radley, pet of my “twin” and best friend Amy will have to be put to sleep soon. My heart is aching for her. Beloved pets wrote the book on unconditional love.  At times they love us more than we love ourselves.  And their love is innocent and pure, uncomplicated by all the questions and conditions we attach to our feelings.

The best memory I will always have of Boo is that he was spoiled, cried over, nursed, hugged, respected, talked to, and loved by a remarkable woman.  Few living things on earth have ever been so fortunate.

I know my friends will direct positive thoughts and energy to a wonderful dog and his loving owner.  And maybe we can all hug our own pets a little closer tonight thinking of Boo.

The title quote is from the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz

Remote Out of Control

Friday, August 21st, 2009

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Do you watch a lot of TV? I’ll bet you’re like me and many people. You don’t exactly sit down and watch it – it’s just on in the background as you live the rest of your life. Someone called TV the “electronic fireplace.” My parents didn’t care what you called it – they just knew the OFF switch was ‘on’ during mealtimes and most other times too. Had any of us kids even asked to turn the TV on during dinner, I’m sure Mom and Dad would have looked at us like we had grown another head.

Yet over the years, the constantly-on TV has seeped into my life. Usually it’s on a news show or a talk/news show like ‘Today’ – but the sound is down and I only pay attention when it shows something in which I’m interested – which is almost never.

The remote, of course, is the machine that makes possible all of this volume and channel changing. A few days ago, my remote started working intermittently which is maddening. I reprogrammed it two or three times and it still misbehaved. I even put in shiny new batteries. Nada. So last night I gave it one more chance. I shined up the battery contacts, reprogrammed the four digit code, put on a happy face, and pushed the power button. Nothing. So I calmly threw it as hard as I could through the open terrace door where it met the concrete wall and smashed into countless pieces.

Tuesday and Wednesday, my cats, were quite impressed. After looking back at me to make sure I wasn’t going to fix anything else, they trotted out to the terrace to sniff the small remnants of destruction.

And I didn’t buy a new remote today either. I’m thinking that any action I perform in life should be worth the effort it takes to get out of my chair, walk three steps, bend over, and push a button. If it’s not worth that effort, I can probably live without it.

The TV hasn’t been on all day.

Great presenters are never out of control at: www.PresentationsUnplugged.com

Death by Reality

Thursday, August 20th, 2009

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A lot of people from the Class of 1968 died. Some lost their lives – many lost their dreams. As we used to say, “Same difference.”

Dull business presentations die at:

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