"Hey now, you're a Rock Star..."

Yesterday. No entry. So technically, I missed a day. But I had an excuse. Two excuses, actually. More on that in a sec. Apologies, Friendos, although I suspect it's good to condition you (three readers) by having sporadic entries early on. Yes. That's it. I did it on purpose. Subconsciously. Is there a spell check on this thing? I hope so...

Good morning Trash Talkers! Update: Operation Buttercup. This dog is a Rock Star as the Washington Heights dog loving community already well knows, so it's not surprising that there is a lot of interest in her. Which brings me to my first excuse! Last night I met with a lovely couple who drove all the way up here to Upstate Manhattan from the Outer Banks of Brooklyn to meet her. Total Rock Stars as well, sooo nice - really know what they are doing in terms of dogging it up. I think we're in love. I know that they are, so they say, and apparently this little champion of a former trash heap has an amazing home waiting for her in Brooky - with a yard, and a summer home in the real Outer Banks of North Carolina. Would they take me too I wonder? I hope this works out...

My upstairs neighbor, Paulina, is also a ROCK STAR. All caps this time. She came downstairs last to watch over my permanent brood while I met with the prospective parents. BIG shout out to her. She is the best neighbor in the world, and one of the kindest peeps I've ever had the pleasure to know. Truly one of the good ones. Also a great photographer, designer, mom - she does it all (and well). She's taken photos of all of our fosters and I'm kinda convinced it gets them adopted way quicker (see attached pics of last mo's pick of the litter).

Now for the really important stuff. Paulina was kind to withhold the outcome of American Idol until I was back and settled in. She did, however, whet my appetite by saying there were some goose pimple moments and upon viewing I CONCUR!!!! Rock Stars on TV. I. Heart. Casey. James. It's. OK. My Husband. Knows. What?! He plays the guitar and he's just so...ahem. They all did well last night. Some better than others (Casey). Bravo to those tiny rock stars on my tiny TV. I watched until midnight. Second. Excuse.

So it's all good Friendos. THANK THE STARS Buttercup may have a home, I have a cool neighbor, and for that magical device that records things on my TV so I can watch CASEY JAMES' PERFORMANCE OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER. Shut up you. I don't care if it looses me street cred. Street cred ain't worth a damn these days. XOXOX

One Man's Trash is...

...indeed another man's treasure. But you knew that. In fact, if you're reading this you are probably a friend of mine (hello Friendo) and so you know that I am a dumpster diver from way back. I heart trolling for treasures - Trashion Treasures - of all kinds! Filthy and Fresh This blog is Trash Talk at its Finest! You better know it!!

9:10pm, Monday April 5th, 2010 - We (yes Trash Talkers, the Royal "we") are beginning our very first blog entry (what?) with a special feature: "Pick of the Litter". Hooray! This week's Pick is BUTTERCUP! This special girl was tossed out on to the cold, wet Manhattan Streets by her former owners; poor pathetic jerks that they are. The only explanation I can muster is that they must have mistaken her for their stinking trash heap, which is probably still festering, unnoticed, in their nasty ass kitchen!

Buttercup was found by the fuzz, and carted off to the filthy (not in a fresh way) high kill shelter in NYC, where she sat in a cage for 5 days surrounded by the deafening sound of dogs in distress. Sigh. Not cool, not cool at all Friendos. Before she got tossed out with the real trash (via a cold metal table - and probably a large freezer unit?) we gingerly scooped her up like the golden treasure that she is. This precious gem is being fostered by yours truly, through this amazing rescue group called Louie's Legacy - www.louieslegacy.org or you can find her on Petfinder! http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/16080272 She's patiently awaiting her forever home. Could it be yours?

Animals treated like trash = A Trashion Faux Pas. Not cool in my book.. And my book by the way? It's the one you want to be cool in. For reals.

Aw. She's asleep. With her head on my lap. Hmmm...cold metal table...head on lap...cold metal table...head on lap...it's kind of a no brainer, no? Thank you for reading Friendos. All five of you. XOXO