The Office

My name is Resalin Rago and I have an office.

It's quiet, has plenty of storage space, and, best of all, tons of sunlight when the garage door opens.

Yep. I've set up shop in my mommy's garage. It's not much and certainly not what I had in mind after graduating from a top 5 J-school, but it's my own think tank and no one disturbs me, unless of course my mom pulls up in her SUV.

The Bargain

The following is my theory on why the Cowboys can't win a play0ff game, and now, after the jaw-dropping loss to the Eagles, won't even get to play in post season.

Jerry Jones made a bargain with the Devil.

I think that in order to come up with the billions of dollars, euros, rupees, and solid gold bars needed to build his shrine in Arlington, Jones struck a deal with the greatest conman ever.

Seriously y'all. This is just embarrassing.

For post game commentary and a look at Romo's dapper chapaeau, click on:
http://www.dallascowboys.com/multimedia/multimedia_center.cfm?id=80B7C1A6-E8D5-52EF-29F1423468A42132

It's good to be TO:
http://www.dallascowboys.com/multimedia/multimedia_center.cfm?id=80CBCB28-A7A2-6505-7A44C24D67DCED1A

A Christmas Wish

Dear Santa,

This year, all I want is for Texas to install a massive public railway system so that I don't have to buy a car. This is a very selfless wish. Not only would it be good for the environment but it would also keep the insurance rates for Asian drivers at a low (for them) premium. Must I remind you of the time I ran into Mike Herman's car in the student parking lot in front of the whole senior class. Or the time I backed into a minivan at the country club. Or the time I ran over a wheelbarrow on 75 which coincidentally spun my then boyfriend's mom's Lexus across three lanes of traffic before finally ending up on the shoulder facing the wrong direction.

So Santa...I know that I already gave you my Christmas list when I saw you at Macy's with Liz and Melanie but if you could add this wish to the top of the list, I would be most grateful.

Best,
Resalin

PS. If you're looking for homemade cookies, you won't find it at Judy's house. All of her cookies (regardless of what Mr. Bruce might think) come from a plastic bucket or a handy single-serving-just-add-1-tbsp mix that you stir and zap in the microwave for 45 seconds, 55 if you prefer your cookies crispy.

Happy Fucking Birthday Britney!

Britney Jean Spears turned 27 today. She is an adult and has been legal for nine years now. She’s not a girl, but according to the judges, she’s still not a woman and not adult enough to make any decisions: She can’t drive; She has no say in the hiring and firing of her personnel; She can’t freely spend her fortune. And, based on her new album, the 27-year-old can’t say “fuck” in the studio either.

Fuck: It’s probably one of my favorite words and much to my mommy’s chagrin, one I use quite often. It’s also in Brit’s lexicon as she dropped the F-bomb in the MTV tell-all. But there was no cursing, none, in Circus. No damn, hell, shit. Nothing. She can sing about partying all night, beating up photogs, and even phone sex, but when it comes to using four-letter words, Jive makes her use shitty PG stand-ins like “effing” and “fugly.” The sixth track, If You Seek Amy, is a three-minute fuckimism. (Say the phrase “If You Seek Amy” quickly enough and you’ll hear what I mean).

I’m not pro-potty word. You don’t need use them to have a hit song or to purport an edgy image. (We know that Brit can do edgy quite well). I know replacements are necessary, especially when children are present, but they need to stay in Dodge minivans. There’s no place for them in pop culture.

I would have to agree with many of the critiques out there and say that Circus is almost as good as Blackout. The ballads—saccharine, trite, and badly executed—severely drag the greatness factor down. I would add Kill the Lights, Circus, Phonography, Shattered Glass (the gay man’s perfect post break-up song and this album’s Stronger), and Unusual You to her second Greatest Hits album.

I’m glad that Justine and I went to Virgin at midnight to buy the album and I know that sometime soon, Circus will be on and I’ll be dancing around in my bra and panties, joyously singing along—even during the not-so naughty parts.