Thursday, April 28, 2011

Yo Ho, Yo Ho, Yar-dee-Yar-dee-Yard Sale



Okay, so one of Tuesday's ideas made me think of  an interesting pitch:

The movie short would be called Hooking Up. It's a quirky comedy about a service that offers hookers with hooks for hands. The service is called "Captain Hookers" and it is pirate themed: Flowy white blouses with puffy arms, eye patches, peg leg dildos, and every time a hooker has to walk the plank with a customer she/her has to sing, "Yo, ho, yo ho".
 And let's not forget about the cannon ride. The cannon,of course, is a visual penile metaphor. It's not nuts!  Remember, I said penile? 

Or maybe this is a quirky porno pitch.

I have so much to work out. Until next time,

Over and out:kshh
-Michelle J

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Self Defense for UniTards:Kick Him in the Schins and Run Away Like a Little Girl with a Urinary Tract Infection

This past Christmas, I sent a home-made quasi-Christmas card to one of my bf squared's family. Her dad gave us both awesome, matching penguin onsies--fastened with a full length zipper in the front and feetsies--and a rather large Penguin stuffed animal.

To show my thanks, I made a little Christmas card to showcase both the penguin onsie pajays (pronounced like vajays) and my pet penguin, that I naturally named, Schindler.
I'm sentimental like that.





So it looks like I'm not the only one that enjoys making lists. Schindler may have me beat there. Maybe. We are quite the duo.

Other synonyms: Life partners; Poop Coaches; Friends with benefits and a 401K; mutual mastr pap smears

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

What the ? It's Tuesday

1. A Jersey Shore cast member moved into the hood of neighbors recently.Shim lives about five minutes away from me to be exact. I will not reveal which one for herm's own privacy. But this is the kind of thing that is only borderline flattering. Flattered that you want to call my home, your home, but nervous about all the weirdos, guidos and general trash that the show brings into the area. My town was already a hub for tourists to flock to every summer. Now with the publicity of the show, a retarded amount of people gallivant and clog up the streets/beaches--the Lincoln logs that they are-- all the best of Long Island, Staten Island, North Jersey and beyond.

2. The tulip I was nursing has straight up withered today( or straight-down rather). I was proud of this tulip, my mom named her," Tully" (My  mom was an accountant, what do you expect?), I'd talk to her about politics, or how much I admired her asexual mating habits, and on occasion I'd pet her sweet petals, and she'd let out a sigh with a tooth-less smile.  Or  it could have been a flower fart.

While you look through these photos that I took of Tully during her glory days, before her recent passing, imagine the song, "All By Myself" by Eric Carmen, playing in the background while I sit in a dark corner and rock myself back and forth.





Look how happy Tulls is here. She's laughing so  I must have
told a poop joke. Or a Nancy Pelosi joke.





That's what happens when you're Mexican. You don't get normal house pets so you divide your time confiding in a rock, or a bird that makes it's home in your porch, or petting a stray needle. That's mexi. Or for me, a mex-mix. A halvsie, a cocker-spaniard mut.

disclaimer: I had two dogs growing up and plenty-o- Swedish Fish. So don't feel too bad for me while I whine in my Tuba Tina voice. Tuba Tina=College roommate nightmare.


3. Speaking of Mexican, the Food Network's recipe of the day--which I get sent to my e-mail( Judge away,Judy)--is a Mexican brownie. As in the dessert brownie, not some re-vamped racist comment. What does that even mean? Mexican Brownie? Does it have a sex? and if it's male does it have a wet back, is it mustachioed (dirty Sanchez even?) Does it lay bricks for a living or dance around a hat?

If it's a woman, does it have wide hips, chola lined-lips, an attitude, and a baby carelessly tucked under one's arm like a football? If it's a motor vehicle does it have hydraulics? These are all the Mexican stereotypes I can think of in this glistening, brief moment of potty-plop brainstorming.

The closest thing to a Mexican brownie that I've seen is my dad eating a regular brownie (which happens a little too often for a diabetic). So that's settled. That must be it.


 
http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes-and-cooking/recipe-of-the-day-what-to-cook-now/pictures/page-4.html?nl=ROTD_042611_RecipeTitle
 

3.5. I have a sick idea for another reality show. Maybe an E show that Ryan Seacrest can Razzle-Dazzle with his pretty boy hands. The show is called "Keeping up with the Mexicans". It's like the Kardashians but with Sombreros and surprisingly less loose women.
It's a show where people slash /boarder control literally have to keep up with those crossing the boarder and dodge bricks. Or maybe that should be a video game? Now I'm thinking!

4. Speaking of loose women... another great idea: What if someone started a hooker business where the service provides hookers with literal hooks for a hand. "Hooking" sounds so much better than hookering.You know, yo HO, yo Ho, butt pirate style with the eye patch, weird puffy, white blouse and  a mustache. These women will dazzle. (Sorry Ryan, you don't show your vagina quite enough to qualify)

5.  I've spent the past couple of days eating/brewing/reading/cuddling/bouncing all the goodie-gadgets (items) in my Easter basket. And shoving weirdly random items around the house into my now empty eggs. Like my beard ( as in my boyfriend) Thanks mom and dad!

In Restrospect:

So that's the Tuesday [heavy] set. And it was heavily Mexican flavored tonight.  Tune in later this week for more jokes, jabs, and Jaundice.

And maybe test out  a tasty, new little segment we at PP like to call, "Poop and Politicians".
Hint: it's not a compare and conrast piece. It's  more along the line of  "Alcholics' Synonomous".


Over and Out: kshh
-Michelle J

Friday, April 22, 2011

Poo-Pie's Homemade Jar of Mixed Farts

Instead of serving people with divorce papers, lawsuits, or ultimate nachos, there should be an official service that delivers a Jar of Farts to people that you loathe. Or just people you want to send jars of farts to, in a cool official way.

Let someone else do your dirty work. That's what we at Poo Pies promise to deliver. If you want us to send someone a jar of farts:

Mixed, unsalted, salted, hormone pumped, mesquite methane flavored, Left over chili from last night etc. It's your choice!

Customize it however you want. The more the eyes water the better! Send all inquiries to michellej@poo-pies.com 

Tagline: Like a good Hermaphrodite, State Farm Is there!
"Like a Hermaphrodite, we can be whatever you want us to be, Baby."



A MichelleJ Original Photo

Also Tagline:
You've Just been Served.

Wapishhh


Disclaimer: All photographs are created by Michelle J and the Poo-Pie's Staff unless they say otherwise.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Kate + Will= Kill?

Well It turns out that our new "British Royal Couple of the Century" goes to: KILL Lewis. (Not that this is particularly new, the two lovers have been hobnobbing for years) 

Lewis is Prince William's Last name, not that it is well announced or known by foreigners. Anyway, Thank You Funny Or Die for coming through with a sweet satire on this blithe romance. But more importantly, a jab at  the royal wedding  process/hype/ hula balloons
(That is a play on the word "hullabaloo" and Hula themed party Balloons).



Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Poo-Pies.Corn

Well, hello all!

Welcome to my new domain name: poo-pies.corn.com! Not to be confused with poopies.com which will undoubtedly take you to a web page that acts as a host for links to fetish/kinky pornographic websites. Yup. Of course it is... So don't forget that dash between the poo and the pie. (That's what the fetish guy said)

It's about time to have the URL fit my blog name so I decided to buy so my dad bought me the domain. And we are very excited here at Poo Pies Inc/ LLP /.gov  (wait what?)

Speaking of weird fetishes, has anyone seen that new show on TLC, Extreme Couponing?  It's literally the first thing that comes up when I start typing the word,"extreme" into the google task bar. Second is Extreme Home Makeover. Followed by Extreme Terrorist Makeover. Hot damn, they gave that Ali a fohawk, a chin tuck, and bedazzled his compact assault rifle?(Alright, Alright... I made that last one up)

Anyway, Extreme Couponing is a beastly addiction/second job for all the people on this show. It's a well planned out process that involves one , two, three, or four trips to the grocery store(s) to price products out, then take inventory on ones' cut coupons, then organizing said coupons with the items needed for purchase, then a trip to the grocery store where two, three, four, five...nine carts are needed to check out all these items. That's right, one man needed NINE.
(He is straight too!)

A lot of these extremists will stalk and stock up on these items that they don't even need but end up getting for free.

For instance, one woman had a coupon for tomato sauce and with her rewards points she got each jar free. She bought 40 jars in all. 40 free jars-o-sauce. What-the-What? That same lady was even dumpster diving for extra coups with her pregnant friend and her five-ish year-old son at the beginning of her "coupon journey".

And all these people have either a basement, several bedrooms, or a garage filled with enough products for them to start a corner store. Seriously, one man had enough toilet paper to last him and his wife four years.

And again, they have thousands of dollars worth of groceries that they get for next to nothing. Some woman had $670 worth of groceries at check-out and after all her coupons were scanned she only paid, $14.00. Fourteen Dollars!
Another man bought FIVE THOUSAND dollars worth of produce and he only paid...get this... are you ready? I don't know if you can handle this:
$35.00.
That's over 95% savings! Yup, this just makes me sick and insulted. This show says we are all idiots. We pay way too much for groceries and don't think twice about using coupons. I mean seeing something say 35 cents off or even a dollar off doesn't seem worth cutting out of the newspaper and remembering to put it in the abyss, the black hole that is a purse, and remember to scan it at check-out.

Not any more,folks! I am going to make a real attempt, to try and use a coup once and awhile. Right? that's a new lap-top dance I could be buying instead.

I could be donating that money I save to Charity and her older sister with the weird mole on her back.

I could be helping a fat kid eat tomorrow. And more importantly, 

I could buy my own secret family one day.
Something to think about.



Hey you know, Mr. Bob Harper from The Biggest Loser, right? He's a hunk-a-saurous type of gay man that all the straight ladies go jungle juice fever for. You know the famous vegan/ L.A. personal trainer turned endorsement,turned sex icon, turned...nope he's still gay, but you get the point.

Well, I just found out today, that this Bob Harper is a whopper-with cheesing- 46 years-old! What-the- vegan!?That's almost the same age as my parents!
And my dad does not look like that! Not even in the dark, squinting through drivers-ed beer goggles from 500 yards away. Harper's healthy life-style literally took ten years off his life. I  thought he was only 36 or 37 like Jillian.

Image Courtesy of Dietsinreview.com.
Hey this picture makes a good transition piece, right? Left?

Two Adele songs were ninja-butchered this week,dull, lesbian machete style. The first, "Turning Tables" was sang by G-doggs Paltrow on yesterday's episode of Glee. And the second song, "Rolling in the Deep" was wrecked by Hailey Reinhart on American Idol tonight.
Sigh...Can anyone sing Adele other than Adele? Hank, your shower sessions don't count.


iwrote a bunch of points down on my iPhone yesterday for the What-the-what segment, but to speak honestly, I am just too Lazy Susan to even process another sentence right now. It's been a very exhausting past few days. So please forgive me, tonight. And to make it up to you, Hank, I will leave you with this bit:


I always think of inappropriate jokes while I'm working out. So today, while at the gym, I came up with the following:

1.Two priests and a pair of nun-chucks walk into a bar. It's a drag bar (maybe?) because it turns out they're both male nuns named Chuck and on a double dude date with the priests. Not ninja weapons, that Michelleangelo uses when her boyfriend falls asleep during pillow talk. No actual Sister Mary Clarences sans afro.


Maybe they're not even real nuns, maybe they're prostitutes and the priests are politicians that have separation anxiety with church and state, and rim work. Or maybe it's just Halloween. Or maybe they're undercover and under covers, and the whole thing is a dry dream. Or maybe this turns into another Chuck Norris joke? Who knows. Who even knows?
(Or wait...I'm supposed to know)
Yeah, I really need to work this joke out.


All right, NEXT. This is To Be Continued...


Another, punchier, more developed joke I came up with:

2.  A guy writes on a note and nervously passes it to his girlfriend during class. It reads" Will you Mary me?" The girl gets really excited and says," Yes, of course! Yes!" 
The guy looks a little surprised and extremely relieved. He says, "really?"
His girlfriend says, "Yes, really. How could I not? (beat) Oh one thing though, you spelled marry wrong. It should have two r's."
The guy looks at the girl and says," No, I mean Mary like the name of that Mary Magdalene or whatever her name is. You know, that Jewish broad that shleped around with Jesus."


Hahaha. Do you see what I did there? Do you get it? Because shleped is that Yiddish saying the Jewish community use frequently.  Am I Right? (Insert round of high-fives?)

(One low-five?) 

You know, the whole "Schlep this schlep, that , but don't schlep me, cuz I'm not like that," motto.Or not... Okay, so maybe that's not a saying but they do use schlep interchangeably with about every action verb in the Unabridged Oxford English Dictionary. And in UrbanDictionary.com (And that is some freaky-deaky stuff)

Welp, that's all the meshugana and haha's I have for tonight.
I need to stop before I kaput something else. You know, butcher? Spoil. Wreck.Muddle. Muff. Mar. Botch. Flub. and my absolute favorite: Louse.

Thank you and goodnight,

Over and Out.

ksshhh.
-MichelleJ

Sunday, April 17, 2011

IT'S POM SUNDAY!

That's why all the Hozanas are out on the corner.

Courtesy of petitfoodie.wordpress.com

If you live in a state sans palm trees, chances are the local churches will be throwing delicious antioxidants at you, as you ride into the service on a donkey on your ass, instead of that leafy stuff. At least this pom won't give you a weird rash.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

What the Whahut? Or is it still called a Wigwam? It's Tuesday.

1. I feel bad for my girl Kirstie Alley. It has not been her week(s). Last week she was dropped by her partner Maks, in front of millions during the live DWTS show. This week she lost a shoe mid dance. Whether falling on her ass (being dropped because his "knee gave out") or accidentally turning into a plus sized Cinderella, Lord Alley does not let it affect the rest of her dances (Lord of the dance!). She gets back up, and executes each line gracefully like the Nazi's at Auschwitz like a Swiffer Wet Jet.
 (Too much?)

Of course I am rootbeering for her. And if my support for someone has any special, magic bean powers, like Ellen's support for the two NFL teams that won the past two Superbowls (Saints and Packers respectively), Lord Alley is sure to win.

2. My favorite breakfast/brunch and lunch place is coming to a town near me! What the what? Turning Points, which is located an hour from me in Long Branch , is my favorite brunch place in this fine state. The only downside is that this new Turning Points location does not have an ocean view. But, it has the best food and coffee (and hookers) around. So naturally, when I discovered they were opening up one only ten minutes from me, I was ecstatic.
And erect.

3. There's a book on Inn-and-Out at Barnes and Noble? What the What? I should explain myself before you get the impression that the book is  about quickie sex or the ways to successfully chloroform people and perform surgery to sell their organs on the black market.

No worries.  You can stop hugging your kidneys, Hank! This book is about my favorite fast-food restaurant in the world: Inn-and-Out Burger. That's right. That simple, minimalist burger joint, has the freshest, best tasting burgers, fries and shakes. Everything  is made right when it's ordered. You can even watch the guys slice the potatoes! It's a better, purer version of five guys.

So anyway, this Southern California, and even Nevada/Arizona, staple has it's own book (and a New York Times Best seller at that!). I'm there!
 
4. Speaking of staples, I was at the office supplies store ,Staples, today.  A Willy-Wanka-Wanker that worked in the technology dept. dropped his pants down while he tucked in his shirt. And my mom and I were standing right next to him.  What the What?  It was bad enough that said  worker was breathing down our necks, and smacking his gum gang bang style, while I was looking for a new cell phone case.

The man's undies were exposed, while his belt was gaping open like a sex doll's mouth. (Isn't it weird that those dolls always look so surprised? No offense, Hank. You know we all think your wife's a real stand-up gal...)

Anyway, I thought that display was inappropriate. I, the Quing of inappropriateness, thought it was too much, too unprofessional for a public workplace.  So I called INS and sent droopy pants back to the Congo. No, no I did not.

But I wanted to call someone. So a call to the Jehovah's Witness Protection Center seemed like the next best thing. What else do they have to do?  Nothing. Nothing so long as the J W's are still out on the prowl. The government should have them register like sex offenders so you know when one moves into your neighborhood.

Tangent Cont'd:
News Week says Obama needs a new campaign strategy if he wants to win the next election. Well, there it is, Barry: Registered Jehovah's Witness offenders. Think about it. And thank me later with an edible arrangement. Or make me one of Oprah's illegitimate children favorite things.

End of Tangent


5. Jen Aniston's Sex Tape

What-the-What? This is some brilliant marketing though. Good for you, Smart Water!



Welp (A combination of Well and Gulp),I am mind-numbingly exhausted folks. And far too lazy to add photos, so check back tomorrow to see if I made any updates/corrections/ babies for sell. If they have an extra finger or two, don't freak out. It's probably from a new additive in their feed. So far the chickens/ heifers seem to love it.

I am going to roll out whole wheat style and leave you with a few thoughts to digest.

 If anyone can figure out what the underlying theme or what twisted cliche connects all these words together, I will send the winner his/her choice of the following: A free Poo Pies t-shirt, a jar of mixed farts( from me and the homeless guy in front of 7-Eleven), Hank's sperm, or a couple of dates with me ( not to be confused with a fig, it's close cousin). 

I will post the answer during next week's "What-the-What?Tuesday" segment.So start pulling adages out of the rainy day spank bank, and put your hopes, dreams, and money where Hank's wife's lady thong is.

(Or put it in the comment box/ my e-mail)

good luck.

Over and Out:kshh
-Canoodles

Poo Pie's Sexy Contesto:

men
human
menopause
menstrual cycle
meningitis
menace
mean

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

What Hump, Camel Toe?

Well, How-dy-do, doodies (baby slang for poo)!

I am sorry that I skipped yesterday's scheduled "What-the-What Tuesday" segment, but as you can't see, Helen K, I am very busy this week. Thankfully, I have a Tonka-truck load of clients that need me to write their websites, and create Facebook pages for their businesses.  Halle-lewd-ya! (for the Kathy Griffin fans:Both of you), Hola-lou-ja( for my Hispanic cousins), and Holly-Lube-Ya ( for the youporn stars. Or just Amanda's vibrator, Chris).

Plus, it turns out that applying for a full-time job, actually is a full-time job. Even though there's no corner to stand on. So I am on the hunt, folks, and after every few resume/cover letter's  that I send out, I need to sharpen my spear against a rock. Which is a huge problem now that the stone has rolled away.
Don't worry we fired that gardner. He was looking a little too thin.

So this is what's up, what's up: Today I am going to combine the Salty Piss Flipping, "What-the-What's" with the Hump day Specials. So  It's, "What the Hump? Wuesday".


1.Starbucks Freaky-Deakys! Understand that I nearly fell over (off the toilet) when I read about this: Starbucks  new mobile pour APP.  Starbucks, has a feature for mobile phones that allows a person to order a drink and have it delivered to him or her or herm by an on-call Starbucks Barista riding a scooter. RIDING A SCOOTER. What-the-Hump!? Now you understand  feel my aforementioned chaffing! Salty Piss Flippers--get ready New York, it's a comin' to you.
http://www.starbucks.com/blog/introducing-starbucks-mobile-pour/987?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=af

2. Last week, I found out the hard way that my favorite coffee shop in Avon,Pops, closed. I don't mean that it was just may favorite coffee shop in Avon, I mean it was my favorite coffee shop menstrual cycle (.)
 It has closed, Hank! And even worse: It's been turned into a deli. A DELI! This place had the best everything: Decor, tables and chairs, sandwiches, desserts, oh my baked goods, and coffee. Oh--fiddle my loin-strings--they hurt!  
I yelled "Miscarriage" in three different languages and played "Hot Cross Buns" on my rape whistle when I walked out of said deli.  Nobody really understands weird grief. Except for those guys that eat their golden-arched, Dollar-menu feelings and try to pass it off as a visit for free WI-FI.

Sigh.

3. O -as in Oprah-Magazine's issue for  this month has a special feature about poets! What-the-hump-a-lots? Thanks be to the Big guy! And to completely misquote Karl Marx (even in structural syntax): "Oprah is the religion of the people." 
There is a sweet interview of the very old, and still lovely, Mary Oliver conducted by Maria Shriver( the terminator's wife). Read it:
http://www.oprah.com/omagazine.html


4. Haiti elected a carnival cruise ship singer as their new president. What-the-Ho Humming-Hump?  And he's a provocative, stripping-til-nude- singer at that! This is chaos. The majority of the votes went to Michel Martelly over the reputable, female college professor, Mirlande Manigat (what's with all this "m" alliteration? Not that I'm complaining). The only promising thing about the Haitian president elect is that he has 3/4 of my first name. 
Well, Donald Trump may be running for president of this here United States, so this world is all kinds of Tube-Topsy-Turvey lately.

What -the-Whatcha-hi-ya-Bruce Lee- sound effects-moment-of-discovery channel-hungry-hippos-humping-in-heat: I just realized that if I made that "YouTube-topsy-turvy" that would have been a metapun! But to keep from being too obnoxious, I'll stick with what I already have.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/05/world/americas/05haiti.html


5. Amanda has informed me that someone published a book called, Why You Should Store Your Farts in a Jar (and it has a subtitle that I am inherently too lazy to write). Farting in Jars?!That's my Joke!

There is literally nothing more annoying to me than someone stealing my jokes.

Stealing my jokes= using them without giving attribution to the author/creator/Oprah of it's 19 hours-of-labor-birth.  Or the six pounds and two ounces that was/is/ and will always be me. Unless I become a contestent on The Biggest Loser.

You can take my gadgets,clothes, money, dignity, v-card etc, but steal my jokes, creative writing, innovative ideas....and I am one peeved lady. The worst part is that I don't know this man that published such an atrocity. So I am rendered feeling helpless since he probably didn't steal it from me. But I suppose,in some ways, it would have been worse if he were a friend.

I remember the first time I received a room filled with laughs. I was standing in front of the classroom reading the "Warm Fuzzies" for the "student of the week". The Warm Fuzzies were nice things students would write about their fellow "student of the week".
So one week, I was chosen to read some student's belly button lint fuzz. And I stood in front of the make-shift podium and bellowed out some haha-worthy material for each piece of paper containing the fuzzies. That's right, with each paper that I read, I cracked some jokes--my tongue a cool whip--and the students: my sex slaves pseudo-laugh factory audience.
Anyway, I had such great reviews/ feedback and such a  great feeling in my bowel movements that I knew I wanted to do that forever: Make people laugh. And really that's all I ever want to do in life.

But that need to create and progress and constantly forge writing and comedy (and their half Mexican,half-hermaphrodite bastard children) with any sort of fresh innovation, comes with an overwhelming annoyance for those that steal what I create. This is who I am unfortunately.  And I first realized that in fifth grade when my best friend, Michelle( Yes, best friends with the same name--a red flag, a foreboding to an identity theft--It's probably why it never worked out), stole my jokes and test answers, and used them as her own. I don't know if there is a more unbearable feeling than hearing people get the laughs for my jokes. Again, sans attribution.

Quick semi-Parenthetical tangent: The test answers thing sucked too. I was a smart, studious kid. I worked for my A's( which is always a good thing unless it's bra sizes).

It's a feeling akin to getting punched in the junk. (Yes, I have junk, Hank) And then I had to Mortal Combat that feeling, which grew to resentment, against my deep, friend love for her. And sometimes it's scary to see which one won. Especially if it was wearing that triangle-bamboo china hat and fisting  throwing sonic booms.

So a lesson to you,Hank: Don't steal my shit. Or I will ninja-star you in the ovaries.


6. It took me awhile to realize that MTV's Senior Hip Hop Writer position is not someone that write's raps. I don't know what's worse: Thinking the position was  someone that writes raps rather than writing about the hip hop culture, music etc , or the fact that I considered applying for it under that rap-writing pretense.

OKAY, I'm feeling a bit like Rosa tonight, folks. My feets is tired. And my mom made me sit in the  back of the minivan...even though it was just the two of us and she's healing from a broken back and therefore can't drive.

So like Rosa, I need to claim my dignity and walk home. Plus, my ass is tired of being mistaken as my lower back. So I need to go give it some TLC: Kate Plus 8  Cake Boss.

Over and Out: Kshh
-Michelle J. Canoodles

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Sentimental Greeting Card Moment of the Week:


Front:

"A Friend is someone that will squeeze down on your thighs when you can't poop".

Inside:

"You're my main Squeeze! Happy Friendshipversery!"

Back:

"P.S. When did I eat corn"?



Brought to you by:
When-my-"moon"-hits-your-eye-like-A-Piece-o-Poo Pie Greeting Cards.





Note from the Editor:
Make sure you dedicate this sentimental greeting card of the week moment to someone special.