So, John Edwards had an affair. Can't say I'm surprised. I mean. Politicians. How can you be surprised? I am a little disappointed though. I'd of thought that he'd have been a little bit of a better man.
Though. Freals. If, all things being equal, I was going to do it with a politican . . . I'd have to say . . . John Edwards. He'd be my pick. I mean, some politicians, you think they went into government for the tail, because they couldn't play guitar. But Edwards. I can see that.
But things not being equal, I'm still kind of bummed that he stepped out. He seemed to have a real mission lately working for healthcare reform and our nation's poor. Kiss that goodbye. Plus, his wife, with everything she's carrying right now, does not need this nonsense. I suppose politicians are a necessary evil. But I sure as hell wouldn't want one marrying my sister.
And the "I'm not that baby's daddy" thing is just kind of gross. One of Edwards' staffers says he's the father of the woman's child. When will people learn? Whether you work at campaign headquarters or the Chicken Shaque - fishing off the company peer is not cool. And to be running two men in the same workplace back to back, close enough that there is even the remotest question as to paternity? Girl, that is wrong. Hell, it makes Larry Craig look discreet.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Toke it or leave it
We've gone over the "I'm not cool thing", right? I'm not. Whatever it is that makes somebody cool I don't got it. It's fine though. I'd love to be cool, but I try to take comfort in being delightful in other ways.
Here's a tell that I'm not cool. I won't be seeing Pineapple Express. Why? Because I don't get pot humor. It just doesn't make me laugh. From Cheech & Chong to Dazed & Confused to Harold & Kumar, I've never gotten it. It must be some sort of chemically induced kind of funny, and since I'm a clean teen, I don't have the requisite residual doobage in my system to clue me in on the jokes. It's not like this stuff is Moliere or anything. I understand what's supposed to be funny. It just doesn't make me laugh (but for the major exception of Neil Patrick Harris in Harold & Kumar, NPH is a comedy ninja). And it seem like I'm going to be missing out in the comedy movie front for the forseeable future. With the rise of the Judd Apatow crew, it appears we are in a golden age of pot humor.
Sitting in Pineapple Express for me would be like going to a party where everybody else is high. Since I have a wide variety of friends of many different persuasions and proclivities, I've been there. Potheads always think they're hilarious. And if you don't see the humor gold in the fact that Doobie just misprounced the word "impossible", well, obviously, you're just too uptight to get it.
I've long ago accepted that recreational drugs are what the cool kids do. Or most of them anyway. There's a big overlap in that Venn diagram. And by not smoking weed, I've greatly lowered my probablity of ever achieving coolness. Ah, well. I seem to have made it okay this far not being cool, or sparking up. Guess I'll just keep on being my uncool self.
Here's a tell that I'm not cool. I won't be seeing Pineapple Express. Why? Because I don't get pot humor. It just doesn't make me laugh. From Cheech & Chong to Dazed & Confused to Harold & Kumar, I've never gotten it. It must be some sort of chemically induced kind of funny, and since I'm a clean teen, I don't have the requisite residual doobage in my system to clue me in on the jokes. It's not like this stuff is Moliere or anything. I understand what's supposed to be funny. It just doesn't make me laugh (but for the major exception of Neil Patrick Harris in Harold & Kumar, NPH is a comedy ninja). And it seem like I'm going to be missing out in the comedy movie front for the forseeable future. With the rise of the Judd Apatow crew, it appears we are in a golden age of pot humor.
Sitting in Pineapple Express for me would be like going to a party where everybody else is high. Since I have a wide variety of friends of many different persuasions and proclivities, I've been there. Potheads always think they're hilarious. And if you don't see the humor gold in the fact that Doobie just misprounced the word "impossible", well, obviously, you're just too uptight to get it.
I've long ago accepted that recreational drugs are what the cool kids do. Or most of them anyway. There's a big overlap in that Venn diagram. And by not smoking weed, I've greatly lowered my probablity of ever achieving coolness. Ah, well. I seem to have made it okay this far not being cool, or sparking up. Guess I'll just keep on being my uncool self.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Taking Sides
http://omg.yahoo.com/news/michael-dina-lohan-fire-back-at-anderson-cooper/11670?nc
Finally! A celebrity beef that I can choose sides on. Jolie v. Anniston? No real opinion. Hilton v. Richie? Less than no opinion. But Anderson Cooper v. Dina Lohan? I'm printing up Team Cooper t-shirts as we speak. If Andy Boy has decided to throw down on the worst show biz parent since Mama Rose. Even Danny Bonaduce feels bad for the Lohan kids.
But seriously, if Anderson Cooper wanted to sharpen his claws, you'd think he'd have picked a more worthy opponent. Cause one of these two is bringing a knife to this intellectual gun fight. I watched about 15 minutes of a Living Lohan episode and had to turn off the TV before I had to go read a Ziggy cartoon book to feel better. Sad. Very sad. I'm surprised LA County Mental Health Services didn't roll out the Britney Spears Memorial Ambulance and haul Dina Lohan away. That woman doesn't have issues, she has lifetime subscriptions.
But then, she may be both dumb and crazy, but I'd bet if there's one thing Dina knows it's how to fight dirty. So, if Anderson needs help in this bitch fight, I got his back. I know he can handle Darfur, but with a crazy beeyotch from Long Island, he made need some backup.
Finally! A celebrity beef that I can choose sides on. Jolie v. Anniston? No real opinion. Hilton v. Richie? Less than no opinion. But Anderson Cooper v. Dina Lohan? I'm printing up Team Cooper t-shirts as we speak. If Andy Boy has decided to throw down on the worst show biz parent since Mama Rose. Even Danny Bonaduce feels bad for the Lohan kids.
But seriously, if Anderson Cooper wanted to sharpen his claws, you'd think he'd have picked a more worthy opponent. Cause one of these two is bringing a knife to this intellectual gun fight. I watched about 15 minutes of a Living Lohan episode and had to turn off the TV before I had to go read a Ziggy cartoon book to feel better. Sad. Very sad. I'm surprised LA County Mental Health Services didn't roll out the Britney Spears Memorial Ambulance and haul Dina Lohan away. That woman doesn't have issues, she has lifetime subscriptions.
But then, she may be both dumb and crazy, but I'd bet if there's one thing Dina knows it's how to fight dirty. So, if Anderson needs help in this bitch fight, I got his back. I know he can handle Darfur, but with a crazy beeyotch from Long Island, he made need some backup.
Liar, liar, emo pants on fire
Okay, don't know if anybody else is watching, or up on this season of, Project Runway, but I'm just going to throw this out - is anybody else thinking that Blayne [aka The Tanorexic, aka the Oompa Loompa on Atkins, aka It's Fake and Bake and I Helped!, aka He Who Thinks He Is Chistian Siriano And ISN'T And "-licous" Will Never Be Fierce] is waaaaayyyy older than he says he is? I mean way. I just have this total suspicion that he is lying about his age. His bio (http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/5/bios/bios.php?designer=blayne) on Bravo states that he's 23. Not buying it. Those tiny little emo pants of his aside, I think he's at least 30. That whole "I don't know the Beatles" thing last night? So. Fake. Or he's reaping the skin damage he has so deeply sown.
On a similarly rawhide note, is it just me or is Stella (aka Leather Tuscadero) this season't Vincent? I swear, she's going to say that leather "turns her on" any minute.
And lastly, I forgive Blayne every thing just for the sheer delight of Tim Gunn tossing off, ever so casually now, "holla at ya boy". It is for to giggle. Love the Tim.
On a similarly rawhide note, is it just me or is Stella (aka Leather Tuscadero) this season't Vincent? I swear, she's going to say that leather "turns her on" any minute.
And lastly, I forgive Blayne every thing just for the sheer delight of Tim Gunn tossing off, ever so casually now, "holla at ya boy". It is for to giggle. Love the Tim.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Puh-lease.
http://www.time.com/time/business/article/0,8599,1829928,00.html?xid=site-cnn-partner
Honestly, what's the fuss? So they charge you $7 for a blanky and pillow. It's a fresh, clean, brand-spanky new blanky and pillow. Do you have any idea what people do with those things they give our for free on airplanes? Fluids, people! Flu-ids! Biological contaminants. I'm not talking spilled coffee. And besides, you're buying the pillow and blanket, not renting them for $7. You can take it with you. And since they're limiting carry ons, who's got the room to carry they're own set of linens on the plane? And if you don't want to buy a blanket, wear a freakin' sweatshirt for pete's sake.
But the $5 Bed Bath & Beyond coupon? Please. I get at least one of those a week in the mail. Bed Bath & Beyond is the town coupon tramp. Giving away sloppy coupon seconds. Nice try though.
Honestly, what's the fuss? So they charge you $7 for a blanky and pillow. It's a fresh, clean, brand-spanky new blanky and pillow. Do you have any idea what people do with those things they give our for free on airplanes? Fluids, people! Flu-ids! Biological contaminants. I'm not talking spilled coffee. And besides, you're buying the pillow and blanket, not renting them for $7. You can take it with you. And since they're limiting carry ons, who's got the room to carry they're own set of linens on the plane? And if you don't want to buy a blanket, wear a freakin' sweatshirt for pete's sake.
But the $5 Bed Bath & Beyond coupon? Please. I get at least one of those a week in the mail. Bed Bath & Beyond is the town coupon tramp. Giving away sloppy coupon seconds. Nice try though.
Beijing
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080806/ap_on_sp_ol/oly_china_sanitized_beijing;_ylt=AsPAW79LA0li53Kd4G.8FIVvzwcF
"Sanitary" and "Beijing". Not too words I'd readily put together. And I can really dig where this writer is coming from.
I visited Beijing in 1997. My Dad was invited to speak at a conference, and he was able to get visas for my Mom and me. Pops was tied up most of the days we were there. So Mom and I explored the city. We did a few of the group tours to see big things like Tianamen Square and the Forbidden City (you get to skip a lot of lines that way, and the guides are really good sources of information). But we did a lot of Beijing on foot, exploring the markets, stores, gardens and zoo, and picking up the occasional cab (you haven't lived until you've been in Beijing traffic in a taxi - near death experiences can be very invigorating).
One thing you notice first is that Beijing is one dirty city. It reminded me of a cross between Washington DC and Nogales, Mexico. On the one hand, it's a government town. More conservative than Hong Kong. But on the other, there are people who live in squats down by the river, in shacks made of corrugated tin and cardboard. There are beggars on the street. Plus, we were there in the most polluted month of the year. Every day I'd come back to the hotel and spend (gross alert) about 10 minutes blowing black gook out of my nose.
So in and around the general dirt, you see things like wagons piled with meat being carted around town. In the open air. Nothing over the meat. I think I was less appalled by the flies than by the wagon sitting next to a diesel truck that was just belching black soot onto what would be somebody's dinner. And we also saw people cooking on the sidewalk. Literally on the sidewalk. Sidewalk/fire/pan/food. I am pained to admit, we didn't take advantage of any of the street food. I was only going to be in China a week and a half, and I didn't want to spend even a minute of it confined to the hotel with a case of the skitters. The only thing I can remember buying on the street to eat was some tiny candied apples on a stick. Pretty tasty. And considering that truck full of meat probably drove right up to one of the restaurants where we ate, I'm not sure that meals eaten indoors were any more sanitary. I probably should have just bit the bullet and had a tasty bowl of noodles. Skitters be damned.
If they're moving the street vendors, I have to wonder if they've moved those shacks that were down by the river too. It's been over 10 years, of course. But I'm not sure how fast things like that progress in China. I'm not much of a sports fan. But some of the Olympics coverage does tempt me, just to see how much has changed. But this article makes me wonder if any of the change you see next week will be there a month from now.
"Sanitary" and "Beijing". Not too words I'd readily put together. And I can really dig where this writer is coming from.
I visited Beijing in 1997. My Dad was invited to speak at a conference, and he was able to get visas for my Mom and me. Pops was tied up most of the days we were there. So Mom and I explored the city. We did a few of the group tours to see big things like Tianamen Square and the Forbidden City (you get to skip a lot of lines that way, and the guides are really good sources of information). But we did a lot of Beijing on foot, exploring the markets, stores, gardens and zoo, and picking up the occasional cab (you haven't lived until you've been in Beijing traffic in a taxi - near death experiences can be very invigorating).
One thing you notice first is that Beijing is one dirty city. It reminded me of a cross between Washington DC and Nogales, Mexico. On the one hand, it's a government town. More conservative than Hong Kong. But on the other, there are people who live in squats down by the river, in shacks made of corrugated tin and cardboard. There are beggars on the street. Plus, we were there in the most polluted month of the year. Every day I'd come back to the hotel and spend (gross alert) about 10 minutes blowing black gook out of my nose.
So in and around the general dirt, you see things like wagons piled with meat being carted around town. In the open air. Nothing over the meat. I think I was less appalled by the flies than by the wagon sitting next to a diesel truck that was just belching black soot onto what would be somebody's dinner. And we also saw people cooking on the sidewalk. Literally on the sidewalk. Sidewalk/fire/pan/food. I am pained to admit, we didn't take advantage of any of the street food. I was only going to be in China a week and a half, and I didn't want to spend even a minute of it confined to the hotel with a case of the skitters. The only thing I can remember buying on the street to eat was some tiny candied apples on a stick. Pretty tasty. And considering that truck full of meat probably drove right up to one of the restaurants where we ate, I'm not sure that meals eaten indoors were any more sanitary. I probably should have just bit the bullet and had a tasty bowl of noodles. Skitters be damned.
If they're moving the street vendors, I have to wonder if they've moved those shacks that were down by the river too. It's been over 10 years, of course. But I'm not sure how fast things like that progress in China. I'm not much of a sports fan. But some of the Olympics coverage does tempt me, just to see how much has changed. But this article makes me wonder if any of the change you see next week will be there a month from now.
Movie Recommendation - Once Were Warriors
I had heard of this movie before, but never got around to seeing it, but caught it last night on IFC. It's called Once Were Warriors, and I can't recommend it highly enough. It's about a Maori family in New Zealand. The mother and father have left the Maori tribal village to live in the city. The father is one of those people who you can see that could have been a good man, but bitterness and pride have twisted him into an alcoholic and an abuser. The mother still loves him, and has consequently spent years chosing her husband over her children's welfare. And each one of the children is affected in their own way by their parent's volatile relationship.
The actors are really wonderful. Especially the three oldest children. I had some trouble with the Kiwi/Maori accent, and it helped to keep the CC on the TV while I was watching, just to be able to tell when they were pronouncing something differently or actually using a Maori word. I'm going to recommend my teenage niece watch this movie, but I'll probably watch with her. She really enjoyed Whale Rider a few years ago, and this is a more mature story that shows the other side of the Maori life. It's got some really tough sequences that are shown very realistically, but nothing that isn't addressed in a lot of teen fiction these days. I think with some guidance it could be a good learning experience. It really shows the way native people have to struggle to reconcile their culture with Western culture. But it also shows that somethings (family issues, poverty, coming of age) are very similar, no matter where you are.
Keep an IFC for a re-broadcast. This is a small picture that I really doubt you'd ever see on any of the other movie channels. Or it would be very worth a rental.
On a side and less important note: The Maori men in this movie are freaking gorgeous. I mean wow. Okay, much less important than the fact that this is a great movie, but notable just the same.
The actors are really wonderful. Especially the three oldest children. I had some trouble with the Kiwi/Maori accent, and it helped to keep the CC on the TV while I was watching, just to be able to tell when they were pronouncing something differently or actually using a Maori word.
Basically, I cried through the last 20 minutes, through an ending that is both happy and sad. Some of the characters end up better than you expect, and some much worse. And I'm a huge fan of the haka, and there are some great sequences showing young men learning how to do it.
Keep an IFC for a re-broadcast. This is a small picture that I really doubt you'd ever see on any of the other movie channels. Or it would be very worth a rental.
On a side and less important note: The Maori men in this movie are freaking gorgeous. I mean wow. Okay, much less important than the fact that this is a great movie, but notable just the same.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Gauging the Truth
http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1829495,00.html?cnn=yes
EXCELLENT article. And one I think every American who was brought up short by McCain's "tire gauge" crack should read. I'm thinking the tire gauge should become the icon for everybody who believes that we can make small incremental changes that will radically effect our reliance on oil, foreign or otherwise. And that you shouldn't let the nay-sayers fool you. It's individuals making small sacrifices who will save the environment, in the end. Not more government intervention. (Not that it wouldn't be nice to have the government on our side, too.)
And the funny thing is, the greatest generation would have inflated their tires and tuned their engines at a President's request, no questions asked. Hell, they planted Victory Gardens, gave up coffee and sugar and pantyhose at a President's request. And possibly they complained, but they did it. Because there was a war on, and if that's what it took to beat Hitler, they that's just what they were going to do. And are global warming and green house gases not as scary as the fascists?
And making light of a true, practical, implementable thing that nearly everyone can do to save the environment, and doing it, quite obviously, before you've checked your facts? That's just unconscionable. Shame on Mr. McCain. Once upon a time he'd have had more honor than to say something that was misleading, just to gain a political advantage. Shame on him, and his advisers.
And the real point is that becoming more efficient will save you money, as well as the environment. Lower gas bill, lower electric bill, lower water bill. Pumping more oil into the system just feeds the monster. We can starve him. Americans are capable of extraordinary things when we're riled. Mr. Obama may chose not to wear a flag lapel pin. I think he should have a tire gauge firmly attached to his breast pocket. And wear it with pride. Because that, my friends, is truly American.
EXCELLENT article. And one I think every American who was brought up short by McCain's "tire gauge" crack should read. I'm thinking the tire gauge should become the icon for everybody who believes that we can make small incremental changes that will radically effect our reliance on oil, foreign or otherwise. And that you shouldn't let the nay-sayers fool you. It's individuals making small sacrifices who will save the environment, in the end. Not more government intervention. (Not that it wouldn't be nice to have the government on our side, too.)
And the funny thing is, the greatest generation would have inflated their tires and tuned their engines at a President's request, no questions asked. Hell, they planted Victory Gardens, gave up coffee and sugar and pantyhose at a President's request. And possibly they complained, but they did it. Because there was a war on, and if that's what it took to beat Hitler, they that's just what they were going to do. And are global warming and green house gases not as scary as the fascists?
And making light of a true, practical, implementable thing that nearly everyone can do to save the environment, and doing it, quite obviously, before you've checked your facts? That's just unconscionable. Shame on Mr. McCain. Once upon a time he'd have had more honor than to say something that was misleading, just to gain a political advantage. Shame on him, and his advisers.
And the real point is that becoming more efficient will save you money, as well as the environment. Lower gas bill, lower electric bill, lower water bill. Pumping more oil into the system just feeds the monster. We can starve him. Americans are capable of extraordinary things when we're riled. Mr. Obama may chose not to wear a flag lapel pin. I think he should have a tire gauge firmly attached to his breast pocket. And wear it with pride. Because that, my friends, is truly American.
Catvis has left the building
That's right. The Mitzi is gone. My dad called to tell me he was collecting Her Highness from my place and returning her from whence she came. Pardon me a moment:
Happy dance! Cha cha cha! Happy dance! Spin, dip, whirl, cha cha cha! Happy dance! Big finish - tappity, tappity, spin, kick, down on one knee, ta daaaaaa! Jazz hands!
I love that cat. I really do. Like a niece. A niece that needs pack up her little pink suitcase and go home to her mama. It's no secret. I'm not a pet person. I'm not a people person either, so it's nothing personal. And cat's are just like children. Feed me. Water me. Pay attention to me. Let me sleep in the house. On and on and on. I'm just not equipped to deal with that.
Last night, I came home with the Bitch Mother of All Headaches. Like someone had split my head open and was waving a teaspoon around in it's contents. All I wanted to do was pass out in peace. To which the cat's responce was jump on my bed, lay next to my head and groom herself. Lick, lick, lick, chew, lick, chew, lick, lick, rub, lick, rub, pause to roll over, lick the naughty bits. "Please stop. You're killlllllllinng meeee!" But you can't reason with a cat. If grooming needs to be done, done it shall be. With no deference paid to splitting heads, or whining humans.
Am I glad the cat has left? Yeah, frankly. Will I be happy to see her again? Oh, definitely. Will she be welcome to come for a visit at some time in the indeterminate future? Sure you bet. But tonight, I sleep the sleep of the cat-free. Ahhh. Bliss.
Happy dance! Cha cha cha! Happy dance! Spin, dip, whirl, cha cha cha! Happy dance! Big finish - tappity, tappity, spin, kick, down on one knee, ta daaaaaa! Jazz hands!
I love that cat. I really do. Like a niece. A niece that needs pack up her little pink suitcase and go home to her mama. It's no secret. I'm not a pet person. I'm not a people person either, so it's nothing personal. And cat's are just like children. Feed me. Water me. Pay attention to me. Let me sleep in the house. On and on and on. I'm just not equipped to deal with that.
Last night, I came home with the Bitch Mother of All Headaches. Like someone had split my head open and was waving a teaspoon around in it's contents. All I wanted to do was pass out in peace. To which the cat's responce was jump on my bed, lay next to my head and groom herself. Lick, lick, lick, chew, lick, chew, lick, lick, rub, lick, rub, pause to roll over, lick the naughty bits. "Please stop. You're killlllllllinng meeee!" But you can't reason with a cat. If grooming needs to be done, done it shall be. With no deference paid to splitting heads, or whining humans.
Am I glad the cat has left? Yeah, frankly. Will I be happy to see her again? Oh, definitely. Will she be welcome to come for a visit at some time in the indeterminate future? Sure you bet. But tonight, I sleep the sleep of the cat-free. Ahhh. Bliss.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Uh Ma Gah
Hugh Jackman. Australia. Release date: 11/14/08
Can I buy tickets now?
I bet you thought I couldn't resist the whip joke. Well, ha! Too bad. I'm not your monkey.
Snake in the grass
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080803/ap_on_sc/barbados_tiny_snake
Note to self - remove Barbados from dream vacation list.
ew ew gross!
Note to self - remove Barbados from dream vacation list.
ew ew gross!
Go, Green, Go! Yeeeeeeaaaa, Green!!
Okay, shake your pom-poms. It's the monthly time to rally for the environment. Actually I'm a little late. But it's beginning of the month-ish. And I'm going to keep up my monthly small bit, for old Mother Earth. I'm kind of "oh, what a good girl am I" pleased with is so far. The only thing I find a little distracting from the pure joy of doing something green is that it's so trendoid and in-crowd right not. I'm trying not to let the fact that "everyone" is doing it spoil my fun.
Last month's cutting out the creamer ploy worked really well. I'm adapted to the black coffee, more or less. And when I get desperate for something a little creamy, a benevolent co-worker let's me snarf off her her secret stash container of organic half-&-half (hey, hey, hey!!).
So for August, my goal is to stop using plastic utensils at work for lunch. Okay, when you do the math, the numbers aren't quite as staggering as when I toted up the creamer cups. But it does come to about 250 to 300 plastic pieces a year. That's nothing to sneeze at. So I'm going to bring a fork, knife and spoon from home to keep in my desk drawer for lunch purposes.
Okay, I'll grant, not the most creative change ever, or the biggest for that matter, but they can't all be brain busters, ja know? I'll put on my thinking cap and try to come up with something cool next month.
Last month's cutting out the creamer ploy worked really well. I'm adapted to the black coffee, more or less. And when I get desperate for something a little creamy, a benevolent co-worker let's me snarf off her her secret stash container of organic half-&-half (hey, hey, hey!!).
So for August, my goal is to stop using plastic utensils at work for lunch. Okay, when you do the math, the numbers aren't quite as staggering as when I toted up the creamer cups. But it does come to about 250 to 300 plastic pieces a year. That's nothing to sneeze at. So I'm going to bring a fork, knife and spoon from home to keep in my desk drawer for lunch purposes.
Okay, I'll grant, not the most creative change ever, or the biggest for that matter, but they can't all be brain busters, ja know? I'll put on my thinking cap and try to come up with something cool next month.
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