If April showers bring May flowers, what do April flurries bring? Yesterday, it snowed in New York City. Today, as you can see, it’s still pretty cold. As I do my morning scan through a bunch of blogs, I notice that a fellow blogger posts a screen shot from CNN Weather, Weather.com, or something like that. It makes me wonder, what’s the weather like in your neck of the woods? Is it snowing where you are, too? Is it sunny in Tennessee? Are you in Texas running around in a little swimsuit like MamaChristy? Are grey skies above in London? And, what’s the report from the various parts of Canada? Whether this is your first visit to the Funky Brown Chick or your 100th, please use the comment section to tell us what the Springtime weather is like where you are …

mandals n. pl. [man'dls]
Open-toe shoes worn by men. [Stolie: “His toes are fucking ugly! Why the hell is he wearing mandals?!?!] See, also, girlSandals [Mags: “I looked down at Blondie’s feet and I was like, “Ewww! He’s wearing girlSandals.”]

Summertime. It will be here before you know it. And, that can only mean one thing: the arrival mandals on a sidewalk or beach near you. I know. I know. Many people abhor the sight of a man in sandals. Mags, for example, is one of them. But, properly worn, I think a handsome pair of mandals actually looks good on a guy. The key phrase in that sentence is “properly worn”. See, you may not know this but … skillful mandal-wearing is an art. You, too, can master this art if you abide by certain rules. But, first, I should preface everything that I’m going to say by admitting that not all men can wear mandals. Men with ugly toes simply shouldn’t wear them. Ever. Fungus-laden toenails, overgrown patches of hair, presence of the color yellow, bundles of crusty dead skin — you get the picture. And, it’s not cute. Barring ugliness and assuming that the guy has dashingly handsome toes: He. Can. Wear. Mandals.

The rules. Properly worn, mandals should fit and function correctly. No broken straps. No toes hanging over the front or heels hanging over the back. Mandals should also be stylish and clean. If you can use the phrase “Jesus Sandals” to describe the mandals, they shouldn’t be worn. And, remember, nobody likes dirty shoes. Nobody. Easy enough. So, I have a question for you. What’s your call? When you see mandals on a guy, do you think it’s hot … or not?

What ever would I do with myself if I weren’t addicted to guilty pleasures? I love Footballers Wives — also known as Footballer’s Wive$.* Sexy readers that live on the other side of the pond, in England, are probably all too familiar with this delightful piece of television programming but I’m not sure if everyone else is. Here’s where I come in. The Funky Brown Chick: Filling the Minds of Today’s World Citizens with Useless Information … One Post at a Time. To give you a crash course of sorts, here are three things to know about the show if you don’t know them already:

1. IT’S BRITISH. How could you not love British television? Our UK brethren are really good at: sophisticated crime/suspense thrillers (à la Second Sight starring Clive Owen) and really tacky humor. Needless to say, Footballers Wives falls into the latter category.

2. IT’S BAD. This show is soooo bad, that it’s actually really really good. With a tagline like “Everyone Plays Dirty” you have to love it. Hermaphrodite babies. Eating disorders. Nurses who molest their patients. It’s all there. I swear it’s like a train wreck that just gets worse and worse by the millisecond.

3. IT’S AVAILABLE. Footballers Wives has been on UK televisions for a few years now. You can catch the Episode 5.7 Premiere at 9:00pm this Thursday on ITV1. [UK site.] The series only washed up on US shores last summer, but it’s in such demand that additional series are on the way over as we speak. See it on Netflix or on BBC America at 10:00pm on Sundays. [US site.]

Have you already seen Footballers Wives? Do you love it? And, if you haven’t seen it, what other guilt pleasure(s) fill your time?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
* Yep. That’s a dollar sign at the end of that word. Why Footballer’s Wive$ and not Footba££ers Wives? Hmmm … I wonder if BBC America did that especially for us Yanks. I feel the love.

Ahhhh, where do I start? Well, I guess I should start by saying that this will be the last post on the Funky Brown Chick. Believe it or not, I’ve decided to end my blog. When I originally started blogging, I expected to keep this going for at least a year. So, technically, I’m not supposed to stop until late May / early June, right? But, you know what? I’m tired of it. I’ve had enough. So, this is goodbye. This is a long post, but please read it in its entirety so that I can give each and every one of you a proper farewell.

Here’s the deal: I don’t know what to blog about anymore. The Funky Brown Chick is supposed to be a form of therapy for me, but all it has turned into is either (a) a place where I always bitch and moan about my fucked up NYC dating life or (b) some sick and twisted Cyber Shrine to Paul Walker. Besides, above and beyond the boredom / writer’s block, I need to stop blogging because I’m simply not used to all of this daily typing. My fingers are starting to swell a little bit. I. NEED. MY. FUCKING. FINGERS. I don’t want to do any permanent damage so it’s best to stop now.

The decision to stop the blog was a hard one, but not a rash one. This is something that I’ve been thinking about for quite a while. I finally decided that the time to end it had come when I realized that the blog was igniting new mental problems for me. Come on, now. Let’s be honest: if you read this blog on even a semi-regular basis, you’ve witnessed my mental decline first hand. Remember the post about my fake album? Clearly I’m loony, off my rocker and downright goofy. All the lights are on, but nobody’s home except for the little midgets running around in the back yard.

So, before I go, I just wanted to say a huge THANK YOU to all of you that have read my blog, the Funky Brown Chick, over the past 9 months. It’s been a great ride, hasn’t it? Take care of yourselves out there in Vancouver, Texas, Tennessee, Australia, Alabama, Chicago, Georgia, London and all of the wonderful other places from which the members of the Stolie Nation hail. Be well. Think of me often. Oh, and, um … Happy April Fool’s Day! See you kiddies on Monday when we’ll be back to the regularly scheduled program here at the Funky Brown Chick.

Technorati Tags: April Fool's Day, blog jokes, funky brown chick, funkybrownchick