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Category Archives: Best Of Wanda

I have a gringe against Orlando Bloom.  It’s true.  I read it on the internets.

You guys remember the Hong Kong Phooey article I wrote on Blogcritics, don’t you?  When I was writing it I was thinking that no matter how obviously fake and stupid a satire piece is there’s always someone out there who’s gonna believe it.  Still, I was concerned when I had to publish it in the satire category, and downright bummed when they actually put “satire” in the title.

Never again will I underestimate the stupidity of the reading public.  A few hours after I posted the article someone jumped on the thread and chastised me for not getting my facts straight.  Success!

Today I took a mental health day from work (meaning that it’s after 12 and I’m still in my jammies).  I decided to Google “Orlando Bloom Hong Kong Phooey” and you’ll never guess what I found.  You don’t have to guess, I’ll print some of the highlights. Read More »

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If you’ve been following my adventures you know that my husband, Mr. Rizzuto, likes it when I talk dirty.  He’s been encouraging me to explore my inner-romance novelist.  He even gave me the outline of a story, which I will recount here:

I’m minding my own business taking a shower when the bell rings.  I hurry to answer the door and find Orlando Bloom on my stoop.  His car has broken down and he wants to use my phone.  I let him in, one thing leads to another (at some point my towel falls off) and Mr. Rizzuto catches us in the act.  Mr. Rizzuto is angry, or not.  He’s leaving that part up to me.

This is an historic occasion, faithful reader!  I give you my first stab at cheap romance.  (Actually, this is more like a screenplay.  It just flows better that way, work with me.) Read More »

“Thank you for calling Home Depot.  How may I help you?”

“Yes, hi.  I’m, uh, looking for something in a hand-held shower.”

 “You’ve come to the right place.  Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“What do you recommend?”

“Well, this Waterpik model is pretty popular…hey, what’s that noise?”

“Nothing.  You were saying?”

“Right.  The Waterpik.  It’s got a maximum flow rate of 2.5 Gpm.”

“Is that pretty standard?”

“Pretty much.  This is one of our most popular models.”

“What’s so great about that one?”

“People seem to like the brass finish.”

“Oh.  I don’t care about that.  What else do you have?”

“There sure is a lot of noise over on your end.  Are you installing a new bathroom?”

“No.  About the shower?”

“Sorry.  Maybe you’d be interested in the Aquatower 3000.”

“WOULD YOU ASSHOLES KEEP IT DOWN UP THERE?  I’M ON THE PHONE!”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Sorry.  Just the plumber.”

“Oh.  Are you upgrading?”

“No.  I broke my old shower, if you must know.”

“Really?  How did that happen?  What were you doing?”

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Oh.  It’s pretty hard to break a shower though.” 

“Look, my husband was in Atlantic City so I put the kids to bed early and watched Haven on pay-per-view, OK?”

Haven?  Isn’t that that movie with Orlando Bloom?  I hear the love scenes are pretty hot.”

“Can we get back to business?  My husband will be home any minute.”

“Right.  Well, it’s got a thermostat valve and an adjustable height shower bar.”

“Go on.”

“Let’s see…it has wide, needle jet, champagne and pulsator sprays.”

 “Champagne, eh?  What else?”

“It’s got a built-in shampoo and accessory tray….”

“Fine, fine.  How much?”

“Fourteen hundred.”

“Fourteen hundred?  That’s highway robbery!”

“Maybe you’d like to hear about one of our other….”

“No, that’s OK.  I’ll take it.”

“Thank you for calling Home Depot and have a nice day!”

Editorial note:  If you’ve ever read any of my posts about my quest for Mr. Bloom’s phone number, you’ve probably said to yourself, “Wow.  Mr. Rizzuto must read this stuff and beat Wanda’s ass down every other day.”

You’d think that.  Actually, Mr. Rizzuto is pretty cool about it.  As a matter of fact, he thinks it’s hot when I talk dirty.  He even gave me the outline for a story that he wants me to write, which I’ll get to eventually.

In the meantime, Mr. Rizzuto said I should explore the whole hand-held shower thing.  I hope he likes it.

Last week, as you know, was Halloween.  One of my office peeps went to the annual parade in Greenwich Village and remarked on how many nice young men dressed up in “Dick in a Box” costumes.  I have almost no use for Justin Timberlake, but even I have to admit that sketch was funny.

(You’ve seen Dick in a Box, haven’t you?  If you haven’t, please click on the link.  Really, it’ll be important to the story later.  Go on, I’ll wait.)

As a result, I’ve lost control of my staff.  “Dick in a Box” is now the catchphrase around the office.  This is how conversations have been lately:

Me:  Didn’t I ask you to clear off your desk yesterday?

Them:  Dick in a Box!

Me:  You’re late coming back from lunch.

Them:  It’s my Dick in a Box!

No one respects my authori-tah.  OK, maybe I brought it on myself.  I did make them watch Bell Biv DeVoe and Soul For Real videos on YouTube all afternoon Friday, but that’s beside the point.

Case in point:  L.G.  Remember L.G.?  She’s the one I’ve had spearhead my campaign to find Orlando Bloom.  She’s turned out to be a major disappointment.  Every time I ask her about her progress she gives me some hooey about Jessica Simpson having him on a short leash.  That Orlando/Jessica thing was debunked weeks ago.  Does she think I’m that dumb?

I reminded her the other day that my birthday was a little over a month away and she was really going to have to get a move-on.  She swore she was on top of it, but I’ve completely lost faith in her.  It’s very sad really.

The other day I was puttering around her desk and I found the printout I had given her about sending fan mail.  One paragraph in particular caught my eye.  It said:

“If you want to request an autograph, follow the guidelines bellow. If you just want to mail a letter with the address above, and do not want anything back, then you can stop reading! If you live in USA send a properly stamped and self addressed envelope (minimum size 8.5″ x 4″) with your request letter and a photo. You can include a piece of cardboard to keep the photo from bending in shipping and also add “Do Not Bend” on the envelopes. Send your letter and wait.”

Well, it isn’t his autograph that I’m after.  Still, the spirit of the instructions were clear, and it gave me an idea.  I believe this is what the New Agers call “synchronicity.” 

So, here’s the latest package I’ve sent to Orlando.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

I fully expect to get better results from this one because, unlike the last fan letter I wrote, I actually mailed this one.

You’re probably worried that I’ve gone off the deep end and that there’s going to be a police report filed on me any minute now.  Well, you might be right about my mental state, but I signed L.G.’s name to the package.  They got nothing on me.  Besides, it’s high time someone taught that girl a lesson about insubordination.