My God, I Have A Vagina

I have worked for thirty one years with the best interior designer in the region, hands down. I can give you a list of accomplishments a mile long to justify that statement, if you need it. Or, I can just refer you to other designers in the Charlotte region who will tell you that my friend is the one on the top of the mountain to whom all the other looked up to see.

Along with being a great designer, my friend is also sharp of wit and tongue. One day, in disgust for the lack of talent and lack of professionalism of one of the brigade of would be designers in Charlotte, he let go a quip that I have used often over the years and applied to other areas.

Particularly disgusted with the woman who, without any training or proven talent, but sure of her own abilities, crept upon and murdered an unsuspecting room, he let go the following quip: "She just stepped out of the shower, looked at herself in the mirror and yelled, 'My God, I have a vagina. I am a decorator!'"

Watching Newt Gingrich on television this morning, I wish that Newt had, upon getting a look at what a barber was able to do with that poof of hair, first thought of himself a minister or a gospel singer. America will always be the lesser because he first thought himself to be a politician.