Flamingo Jones

If I still blogged....

2007-01-11T20:51:00.000-08:00

I'd blog this.

How the Democrats can lose this thing.

2006-07-15T06:19:00.000-07:00

This is, as always, basically just my take on a situation based almost entirely on my own anecdotal evidence.

I had to go to a big regional fair yesterday afternoon. In 100 degree heat. It was unpleasant. While I was there, I needed to get some information from the local Republican and Democratic parties, who both had displays there. Now, having worked on political campaigns in the past, I've "worked the booth" at more than my fair share of county fairs. I know it's hot and miserable and a pain in the ass. It takes work and determination to keep a smile on your face and sell your candidates.

That being said, the Republicans I talked to were pleasant and personable and quite helpful. We didn't talk actual political issues though, which helped. This clearly would have been the sticking point.

Likewise, I didn't talk about actual political issues with the Democrats either. Which is a shame...because without the bond of similar political views, these particular Democrats came across as sort of snotty and off-putting.

If I was an undecided voter (which I am decidely NOT), the Dems wouldn't have won me over. I probably would have, however, taken a closer look at the GOP candidates. The mere thought of this makes my blood run cold.

The country is in shambles thanks to the GOP. Everybody knows it. Winning 2006 elections should be a slam dunk for the Democrats. However, if any of my anecdotal evidence is at all valid on a more widespread basis.....I'm not sure that's the case. It's troubling.

Even the fool sometimes has sage insights.

2006-07-13T12:04:00.000-07:00

Your efforts will result in much profit.

“Oh, shut up.”

So goes my never-ending love-hate relationship with fortune cookie fortunes.

This is not news to anyone who knows me. In fact, I think I may have blogged about it before. But, I feel like blogging about it again. Sue me.

Firstly, I love fortune cookie fortunes because they are random. Also, they are wrapped in a delicious crispy little cookie. But it’s mostly because they are random. One of life’s biggest disappointments is when you have two fortune cookies from the same restaurant and you get the same two fortunes. It ruins the lovely random mysteriousness for me.

On the other hand, I hate fortune cookie fortunes. I hate them because they are, obviously, complete and utter bullshit.

Here are just a few of the fortunes I have sitting in a pile on the desk next to my computer (the fact that I have a rather sizeable collection of fortune cookie fortunes sitting in a pile next to my computer should, realistically, surprise no one):

• When bargain hunting, be practical.
• Others need not lose for you to win.
• You are very wealthy but you don’t know it.
• Plan your graduation party with Leeann Chin Catering & Delivery.
• (Oops….wrong side.)
• Your message must focus on the receiver. Ignore yourself.

See? Total crap.

I’m thinking of buying a package of fortune cookies from the grocery store. Every morning when I wake up, I’ll crack one open and spend the rest of the day living my life according to a very literal translation of said fortune. Could be fun. One time, I decided to carry around the I Ching and a bunch of pennies. Whenever I had to make a decision, I threw down the pennies and consulted the book for guidance. That was only slightly more cryptic (but perhaps an eensy bit less crazy) than letting a fortune cookie guide me.

Oooh…wait…look at this one:

You have more work than you can handle. Go take a rest; you deserve it.

No kidding! I might make a copy of this one to show my boss.

Death and Chocolate Ice Cream

2006-07-10T21:54:00.000-07:00

To me, chocolate ice cream will always remind me of death. I think it goes back to my grandparents' wakes and funerals when I was in middle school. Their youngest grandchild and the most freakishly over-sensitive person you'll ever meet, I took their deaths really hard. Various family members took me away from the funeral home every couple of hours, and chocolate malts were my comfort food of choice. Ever since, I don't usually crave chocolate ice cream.

So, I probably should have realized the Universe was trying to send me a message when I inexplicably picked up a box of chocolate ice cream sundae cones at the grocery store tonight. I should have known something bad would happen.

Then I got home to find that my rabbit, Bonny the Bunny, had died. It's devastating to me. I don't care how stupid that sounds. Bonny was a good pet, and probably the sweetest and most docile creature God ever created.

I think Bonny loved me too much. I've had her since college, and she was really attached. She always got kind of sick and moody whenever I was gone for a weekend or a few days. When I left her in Wisconsin while I moved to Louisiana for Teach for America, she developed some rather serious health conditions that never really cleared up, even after I came back home.

The fact that she loved me so much is what troubles me the most. Because as any two-bit psychoanalyst or my mother could tell you, deep down I firmly believe that I don't deserve to be loved. This explains a lot about why I'm so drawn to people who treat me like crap. (But that's an entirely different blog.) It also explains a lot about my attachment to my pets. They love me, and though I don't understand that, it's wonderful. On the flip side, I can love them without feeling like a fool, which is equally wonderful for me.

Losing that is really hard.

I might be a workaholic.

2006-07-01T06:17:00.000-07:00

Who'd have guessed THAT?!

My place of employment is currently ok-ing overtime hours if you want them, which doesn't always happen. So, I've been taking full advantage. I've had one day off since last Thursday, and I used it to go watch the Twins kick the Dodger's asses at the Metrodome on Tuesday. By the time I have another day off, I'll have worked another 8 straight days. I'll have worked a total of 12 days in a row, except for 1 day off. And I'm more than OK with that.

Vote for Joe

2006-06-28T18:05:00.000-07:00

Voting for the MLB All-Star team ENDS TOMORROW NIGHT, so everyone should cast their votes ASAP.

With the best batting average (.398) in all the Majors, Twins catcher Joe Mauer HAS to be in the game. If you're not a baseball fan, vote anyway. It's not going to hurt anything. Plus everyone who votes for Joe, and lists the Twins as one of their two favorite clubs, is automatically entered in a drawing for some cool prizes. (if you win them, and you don't want them, I will take them, and love you forever.)

VOTE HERE NOW

Congratulations?!

2006-06-26T03:54:00.000-07:00

So, I had to get up at 5:30 this a.m.

WHY, for the love of all that is good, would I DO something like that?

Because a supervisor at work asked me to drive one of the precious delinquents to their court hearing this morning, before my REAL shift of work. So, I get to drive to downtown Minneapolis in a ginormous van during rush-hour.

Once again....WHY would I do this?!

Because my employers recently deemed me worthy of receiving health insurance, I now feel beholden to them. This is PROBABLY the reason that I got health insurance. They're sneaky like that.

Counting time I've worked there during college too, I've done this job for 4 years, and I'm JUST getting full benefits NOW. And at that, my boss was doing me a favor.

My boss even said "Congratulations!! You have insurance!" when she told me.

Is the availability of healthcare something we should really earn "Congratulations" for? I think that sort of thing should be likened to "Good job breathing today, keep up the great work!"

Mostly I'm just cranky that because our country doesn't have socialized healthcare, I have to be awake so damn early.

People, you need to warn me about these things.

2006-06-24T21:24:00.000-07:00

So, I've been reading The Devil Wears Prada. Not my usual literary fare, but it's well written not at all heavy, which I like for summer reading. Any number of people I respect have recommended it to me. Why wouldn't I read it?

So, why on EARTH did no one warn me that the main character's boyfriend is in Teach for America? I like the book, I really do. It's the sort of book I'd be likely to just sit down and read and read and read until I was done. Except for the fact that whenever the author writes about TFA, I have to put the book down and take a break until the nausea and dry-heaving subsides.

Seriously. Let's not be giving TFA any more Pollyana-like publicity. Sometimes I blame FOX and David E. Kelly for getting me into that whole mess in the first place.....had a character on Boston Public not have been a TFA teacher, I probably never would have googled it, never would have applied, interviewed, been accepted and subsequently sold my soul to Wendy Kopp.*

I'm really, really hoping that someone in Hollywood had the foresight to edit that crap out of the movie, for two reasons:

1. I don't want even more impressionable young idealists to get sucked into the crazy creepy cult that is TFA. I'm selfless like that.

2. I'd like to see the movie. But if I do, and the TFA references are still there, I don't know if I'll be able to suppress my urge to shout rude things at the screen. I mean, it's hard enough for me to suppress the urge to spontaneously start applauding whenever I see the Snakes on a Plane teaser. (The last time, I had to sit on my hands.) I'm just not that great at impulse control.

Is it so much to ask that pop culture not foil my efforts to completely forget that Teach for America exists anywhere but in my nightmares?

*Who may or may not wear Prada, but is most definitely the devil.

Best Most Funnest Meme Yet.

2006-06-23T07:36:00.000-07:00

Shamelessly stolen. Because that's what memes ARE.

1. Choose a band/artist:

The Old 97's. We saw this coming a mile a way, did we not?

2. Answer each question using the title of a song by that band/artist.

Indefinitely

3. Are you male or female:

I am a Singular Girl

4. Describe yourself:

Timebomb

5. How do some people feel about you?

They Let the Idiot Speak

6. How do you feel about yourself?

I'm a little bit Jagged.

7. Describe your ex boyfriend/girlfriend:

I Wish the Worst for you.

8. Describe current boyfriend/girlfriend:

Alone So Far

9. Describe where you want to be:

Just Like California

10. Describe how you live:

Am I Too Late?

11. Describe how you love:

If My Heart Were a Car

12. What would you ask for if you had just one wish?

Blinding Sheets of Rain (We have a drought)

13. Share a few words of wisdom:

Let the Train Blow the Whistle

14. Now say goodbye:

Friends Forever?

Bad sign?

2006-06-21T22:22:00.000-07:00

Is it a bad sign when you notice a dozen vultures circling your place of employment (assuming you DON'T work in a slaughterhouse)?

Probably, huh?

How much should you pay to do the right thing?

2006-06-20T11:28:00.000-07:00

The St. Paul, MN school board has recently made some decisions that are ground-breaking, in my opinion. First off, they, along with the Minneapolis and Stillwater school boards, made it a priority to ensure that all school district apparel purchases (i.e. athletic uniforms, t-shirts, sweatshirts, etc.) come from sources that absolutely do not use sweatshop labor. This decision came about after several high school student activists made presentations to the boards.

Now, they've also decided to mandate that any bus company wishing to put a bid forward to provide district bussing, must provide their drivers with paid sick leave. Makes sense to me. If a bus driver's sick, let them stay home rather than get a whole busload of kids sick too. Plus, it's just the decent thing to do.

Unfortunately, they just got the bill for their decency. The paid sick-leave requirement is going to cost the district an additional $850,000 above and beyond increases that they've anticipated. This also comes after a $10 million cut to their proposed budget for next year. The one Republican on the Board is getting all twitchy about it. He's also huffy that it will cost roughly $25,000 to make sure district clothing purchases are sweat-free. He says that "it's not the school district's place to micromanage the free market."

Maybe not. And I understand that the price of doing the decent thing is going to make things tight elsewhere. But I have a hard time condemning Board members for trying to do the right thing. Though many legislators are doing their best to change it, schools are not yet the same as private corporations. They serve a much higher purpose than just looking out for the bottom line. They are supposed to not only be educating our children in the core curricular areas, but also teaching them about how to be good citizens. How better to do that than to show them that basic human rights and fair treatment for workers is a priority to you?

Elona Street-Steward, chairwoman of the board, said "we are the epitome of the highest concentration of American values. We do not teach that the exploitation of people's gifts makes for a successful country."

Wow. You don't hear that too often nowadays.

So, how much IS too much to pay for doing the right thing? It's the Wal-Mart dilemma. Sure, you can get things at a lower cost to you personally. But what about the cost to others? How do you quantify it? Sweatshop workers, Wal-Mart "associates" who are treated poorly, and paid worse, environmental problems caused by the corporation, etc. It all adds up.

So, how do you reconcile personal costs vs. societal and global costs?

Confession Time

2006-06-15T20:58:00.000-07:00

I shamelessly stole this from Jim. Who stole it from someone else. Who stole it from someone else. Who no doubt stole it from someone else. A meme is born.

The rules to this are: List 10 things you want to say to people but never will. Don't say who there are, and use people only once.

I didn't do a MySpace/Blogger-specific list, since that's WAY not anonymous enough for my taste. But here are my 10 general ones, in no particular order of importance:

10. I'm not sure what you want from me. That uncertainty freaks me out completely.

9. I know that you're a raping, sexually-harassing, son of a bitch. That's why I think it's neither funny nor cute when you ask if you can drive my car, and why I always say "No way." So you can just stop asking.

8. I think I might like you, but that's completely inexplicable, which disturbs me. So, I'm just going to convince myself that I don't care whether you live or die, and will continue to treat you as such in every forced encounter during the day.

7. I think you made a huge mistake.

6. I cried on the happiest day of your life, and they weren't tears of mutual joy, if you know what I mean.

5. I wish you had never told me you loved me, because I believed you.

4. You suck out loud.

3. I actually knew every time you were lying to me. I just didn't care enough about you to call you on it.

2. Your husband makes inappropriate comments to me whenever we're in a room alone together.

1. You're so much better than this, what the hell happened to you?

Every day is a new adventure.

2006-06-13T22:56:00.000-07:00

Tonight, my friend Amanda and I spent four hours in an Olive Garden parking lot. Apparently, something went wrong with my car that goes wrong with VWs a LOT, but no one ever warned me about. It resulted in the car turning on, but not being able to shift out of "Park."

After a series of increasingly frustrating phone calls to my dealer (car, not crack), and a variety of roadside assistance numbers (none of which were too hot on the "assistance" part), we decided to leave the car there overnight and either figure out how to fix or tow it tomorrow. But that was only after FOUR fun-filled hours camping out at The O.G. I finally pulled a fuzzy blanket out of my trunk and we chilled on that for a while, watching hundreds of other cars that DIDN'T crap out on their owners, whiz by. No one took the parking space next to mine the entire time we were there. I think it's because they thought we were homeless people who would beg them for money.

The situation was only made funnier by the fact that between the two of us, we were wearing a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt and an Air Supply t-shirt. "Opposites Attract" by Paula Abdul may or may not have been playing on my sound system. It was kind of like we were Marty McFly and Doc, and our magical Delorean busted down on our way Back to the Future, from 1990. Now we're stuck in 2006, and it kind of sucks.

Well, THAT's disappointing.

2006-06-12T16:03:00.000-07:00

This morning on my way to work, I thought I saw an amish woman jogging in full amish dress.

I got REALLY excited about that.

But it was just a false alarm. It was only a non-amish elderly gentleman whose attire happened to resemble an amish dress and hat from a distance.

I was sad. To see an amish woman jogging in a dress would have made my day. Old men wearing weird clothes are a dime a dozen.

Question of the Night (err....morning?)

2006-06-09T22:46:00.000-07:00

The sweet taste of success

2006-06-08T23:15:00.000-07:00

Tonight I went to work, and basically did nothing but play tennis for a few hours.

I was paid an hourly wage to play tennis.

Does this mean that I'm a professional tennis player now?

I think it does.

Then, I also got paid to play Monopoly.

I am now professional tennis player AND a professional real estate tycoon.

It's been a very successful day. In my head.

The world according to ducks

2006-06-07T10:57:00.001-07:00

I'm sad because my baby ducklings are getting bigger, and therefore will be leaving me soon. They're ginormous now, and we're practicing their independent living skills by letting them roam free in the lawn all day. It's fun to just sit out on the deck and watch them. You can learn a lot from a duck. Here are just some of the life-lessons I've learned from my babies:

If you want to be somewhere other than where you are, run full-speed 'til you get there. Then you can take a nap.
Just because you were born a duck, that doesn't mean you like to swim. (One of my ducks is scared to be in the water, in spite of otherwise acting very duck-y. We've named her "Sarah.")
Stick close to your family. If, for some reason, you get separated, beep loudly until someone comes to find you.
Pre-packaged food is WAY better than eating bugs.
Don't travel more than 20 feet unless there is adequate adult supervision.
Mud is fun.

I'm going to miss them when they go :(

The mark of the beast

2006-06-06T15:45:00.000-07:00

Apparently expectant mothers all over have been desperately trying to avoid having their babies born on 6/6/06. I'm not knocking that. I'd do the same thing, if I were them. I don't mess with trip sixes at all.

But you KNOW that somewhere, at this very moment, there is one dumbass naming their new kid Damien.

Text Messages from Above

2006-06-04T23:17:00.000-07:00

On my cell phone, when I get a new text-message, it shows me the message before it shows who sent it. This can be kind of annoying, but it is what it is.

Tonight while I was at work I received the following message:

boys get better

My first thought was that it was a message sent to inspire me not to give up on the male gender completely. To remind me that there is hope for the chromosomally-challeneged unfairer sex after all.

Boys get better.

It was kind of nice. Simple. I briefly considered making it my new mantra.

But, then I saw that it was just a message from a drunken co-worker, wanting to know if the boys we work with had somehow miraculously stopped being assholes since he finished his shift. He was apparently too impaired to find the question mark.

So much for inspiration.

What's God saying to you NOW, Pat?

2006-06-03T07:29:00.000-07:00

Well, it's not a lightning strike, but it's close.

An audio-blog in two parts.

2006-06-02T21:35:00.000-07:00

Shameless Go-Go's worship, a fish taco reference, AND I say "My Humps" more than any human being should. This post has it all. Sort of.

Part I

and Part II, to finish things off:

High Points

2006-05-31T19:46:00.000-07:00

Today had few high points, but they are noteworthy.

a) A random kid told me I had a cool car in a very awe-inspired tone.
b) Louisiana Phillip, my own personal sex-symbol, talked to me on the phone for nearly two hours. Just what the doctor ordered.
c) I found out that my friends Amanda and Roxanne didn't get to see X-Men 3 all the way through the second time, so Amanda is still willing to see it again with me (sorry Roxy )
d) I was able to eat not one, but TWO yogurt cups!
e) Amanda and I are totally going to Chicago to see King Tut this summer. Because we're awesome like that.

I really dislike Jim Sensenbrenner.

2006-05-31T10:33:00.000-07:00

I wish he wasn't from Wisconsin.

Everything I need to know, I learned from food poisoning,

2006-05-29T17:26:00.000-07:00

I woke up last night sicker than I can remember being in a long time. It was a rough night. And a rough day. I can manage to be up and about for roughly 5 minutes before I have to collapse in an exhausted heap....so, I'm going to type fast.

The best guess as to what is currently making me wish I was dead seems to be food poisoning, or salmonella poisoning. It's....unpleasant.

I have learned a few things though:

When your body is trying to reject poison, you will vomit with such force that blood vessels will burst in your face, making you look like a circus freak.
It's entirely possible to subsist on nothing but 10 pieces of finger jello.
The best (but most unrecognized) feeling in the world is "not throwing up."

There are probably more, but it's about time to collapse again.

6 weird things about me.

2006-05-26T08:23:00.000-07:00

I got tagged on MySpace with this meme, so I figured I'd post it here too, because it's Friday, I'm bored, and I have nothing more exciting to say.

1. I only have six bones in my neck, instead of seven. No one knows why. Also, one of my pupils doesn't contract like normal. That should probably count as weird thing #2, but I figured I'd lump all of my physical abnormalities into one. I'm a freak. The pupil thing causes trouble any time I have to see a new doctor, because they always think I have a concussion. I try to explain that it's just the way my eyes are, and after I'm able to successfully tell them my address, what year it is and who the president is, they usually believe me.

2. I'm a good cook, but I frequently tell people that I'm not. Once people find out you're a good cook, they want you to actually DO it. It's too much pressure. When it comes to cooking, I'm happy wallowing in the soft bigotry of low expectations, personally. Then when I do cook, and people like it, they make a big deal out of it, ensuring that my cooking abilities will never be taken for granted.

3. I don't give blood, and I'm not an organ donor. It's awful, I know. But, I tend to pass out and be sick for days after I have even a little bit of blood drawn. I'm not saying that wouldn't be worth it in a dire and immediate emergency....but I don't really want to volunteer for it. As for my organs...there are a few reasons I don't sign the donor card.

If I'm ever in a life-threatening situation, I don't want the doctors to have any agenda besides doing whatever they can to save me.
In the 2002 Clint Eastwood movie "Bloodwork," a serial killer targeted people of a certain blood-type who were on donor lists. While I know that probably would never happen to me, I'd rather be on the safe side.
With the kind of luck I have, I'm pretty sure that the day I signed the donor card, something awful would happen. I don't like to tempt fate.
I've grown quite fond of my organs, and I'd like to take them with me.
When I was in elementary school, the father of one of my classmates came to school to talk about his job as an EMT. There was talk about scissors. And corneas. And donors. I can't even type about it without freaking out. It scarred me.

It's irrational, I know. But keep in mind that a majority of my decisions are based my overwhelming (and frankly annoying) habit of trying to save the world. So, I think I can make this one irrationally selfish decision. Everyone can spare me the lecture, I already got it from the DMV employees.

4. In college, I went to an NSYNC concert. It was under duress, if that helps. My roommate freshman year was obsessed with them, and she talked me into going with her to see them at the Target Center. Aside from a bazillion screaming and crying 13 year old girls, it wasn't THAT bad. The boys could dance. I'll give them that.

5. I hate basketball. I guess that's not weird in and of itself....but everybody seems to love NCAA and NBA basketball. I used to, but I can't stand it anymore. It's the only major sport that I don't enjoy watching (I don't consider NASCAR a sport...otherwise there would be TWO sports I don't enjoy watching.)

6. I found two four-leaf clovers in ten minutes just now. I think that's a little weird. But this way I can use the Old 97's line "Why don't you come over? I'll show you my four-leaf clover" all summer long.

Make way for ducklings

2006-05-24T21:28:00.000-07:00

Say hello to the newest members of my family:

I have ten baby Swedish Blue ducklings now. They're pretty adorable. When they get a little older, they're going to live on a relative's farm. But, while they're still tiny, fluffy and sweet, they're staying with me.

They were hatched yesterday, and spent several hours in a mail truck before making their way here, but that didn't do a thing to lessen their ducky instincts. After they all took turns trying to paddle around their food/water dish, I took them outside for their very first group swim. In a cake pan. It was grand fun. Then, tonight, I made them watch Lost with me from their cage. It's hard to translate their "beep beep beep"s, but I think they liked it.

Picture of the Day

2006-05-24T09:32:00.000-07:00

Target had a sale on Jones Soda. And my friend Amanda and I are quite possibly the most ridiculous people I know. NO ONE needs this much pop. My poor car could barely hold it all.

I missed the memo.

2006-05-22T21:28:00.000-07:00

Apparently Prince is sexy.

I did not know this.

Everywhere I turn today, people are talking about the PETA Sexiest Vegetarians poll...I heard about it on the radio, on the news, and on more blogs than I can count.

Prince is a genius, for sure. Iconic, absolutely. But I'm not attracted to him. At all. He's like 4 feet tall and slightly unbalanced. He's like a talented Tom Cruise. Not my thing.

So, I'm kind of baffled that voters picked him as the Sexiest vegetarian dude.

Especially when THESE guys were in the running:

I'm not sure what people were thinking. I think this poll was probably even more rigged than American Idol and the NBA combined.

I'm kind of glad that I stopped eating meat* BEFORE this poll came out, otherwise everyone would think that I decided to stop eating meat because of Joaquin Phoenix. I admit though that it's a lot easier to not eat meat if I imagine the disappointed way Joaquin and Mos Def would look at me if I did.

*I must confess that I gave myself a few exceptions to this rule, including Metrodome hot dogs, and things my mom cooks and insists that I try. Because trust me, it's a lot easier to set aside my new ethos than it is to argue with my mother.

My odd thought for the night:

2006-05-21T21:22:00.000-07:00

When is Dippin' Dots going to stop being "The Ice Cream of the Future®," and start just being "The Ice Cream®"?

Dippin' Dots has been around since 1987. Welcome to the future, folks.

Isn't it about time that they made good on their promise?

In order to find out the date that Dippin' Dots started, I went to their website. There, I was forced to read how Dippin' Dots are made. This kind of made me queasy, because they keep talking about how the ice cream beads are "cryogenically frozen." That makes me think about Walt Disney's frozen corpse, which severely reduces any interest I had in ice cream of any kind. (Except maybe these. I LOVE them, even when I think about Frozen Walt Disney. Or maybe especially when I think about Frozen Walt Disney.)

The website also compares the advent of the Dippin' Dots to the invention of the microwave oven.

Hmm. Microwave ovens allowed people to cook food more quickly and efficiently. Dippin' Dots required a trip to the mall or amusement park in order to get an ice cream fix. I don't quite see how the two are comparable. But, whatever. The Dippin' Dots girls at our mall give out free samples, so I won't complain.

My mailbox should runneth over

2006-05-20T08:13:00.000-07:00

I think everyone should send me a thank you note for the good weather this weekend.

Because I have come to the conclusion that I actually DO make the weather.

I've noticed that every weekend I DON'T work is cold and gross. And every weekend I DO work is beautiful.

This is obviously not a coincidence.

Also, consider the fact that I got new ski gear for Christmas this year, which resulted in an abnormal lack of snow all winter. That's some pretty conclusive evidence of my weather-making capabilities.

If only I could figure out a way to harness this power for good, instead of evil.

Dairy-baked politics

2006-05-17T08:13:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a big day in Wisconsin politics.

Bad news first.

Good news to come later. As soon as I have time.

Adrenaline and Redi-Whip: a short story made long.

2006-05-15T09:59:00.000-07:00

As I've mentioned before, I'm kind of a competitive person. If I'm given a task with even the slightest suggestion that it may be a contest or competition, I become like a machine: a frighteningly competitive ass-kicking machine. It's probably not healthy, but it's kind of fun, honestly. And it makes me win a lot, so that's a bonus.

I'm not a jerk about it, really. In fact, I often avoid competition with friends and close acquaintances if I'm not sure how they'll react to Robo-Flamingo. But sometimes I'm forced into competitive situations, and then...well....god help everyone.

Case in point:

Last week was the End of the Year Picnic for my tutoring program. Except that the weather was crappy, so our picnic was indoors. In order to keep the kids entertained inside, we hired a clown. All was fine and well until the very end of her clown/magic show. At this point, she requested "grown-up volunteers. We need some teachers up here!"

Now, if you know anything about education, you know that when someone who has been hired to entertain and delight your students asks for adult volunteers, nothing good is going to come of that. If you have the misfortune of being picked, you can be assured that you are about to be publicly humiliated for the amusement of a room full of shrieking children. And there's nothing you can do about it. You can't say "no," because then you're forever labeled "that crabby teacher lady who doesn't like fun."

Knowing all of this, as soon as her call for volunteers came, I tried to shrink as low as possible in my seat and become invisible. I'm not really into clowns, or public humiliation. But thanks to the handful of children near me screaming "Over here! Over here!" and pointing at me, I could not escape the clown's gaze, and my fate was sealed.

Four of us unlucky adults got pulled up front. At that point, the clown announced that we were going to have "a little contest."

I perked up at that.

The clown came around and put a mask on my face. I didn't see what it was at first, but knew it had to be hideous based on the increased decibel level of the amused shrieking in the audience. The other adults were laughing too, until they got their identical and equally hideous masks on their faces. I know the exact moment that my competitive machine kicked in, because I caught myself looking at my colleagues as "the competition," and I caught myself thinking "That's right. Laugh it up now, because I'm going to kick your ass in a minute." At this point, I knew that whatever the contest was, I was going to win it.

The clown gave us all paper plates, and on each plate she put a piece of watermelon bubble gum. Then, to my disgust, and to the delight of all the children in the audience, she covered the gum with a big glob of Redi-Whip. The gist of the contest was that we had to get the gum in our mouths, not using our hands, chew it up and blow a bubble. The first person to blow a bubble that didn't pop would be the winner.

As the clown and her audience full of minions started counting down, my adrenaline started pumping. My brain started powering down unnecessary auxiliary functions. I was ready.

Enter the machine. I braved the Redi-Whip, got the gum and chewed for all I was worth, all the while staring down my competition with a steely glare. There was no way I wasn't going to win. I figured that I looked like a moron anyway. If I didn't win, I'd look like a moron AND be a loser. And THAT just wasn't going to happen. Not on my watch.

And it didn't. Though my worthy foes gave it their best bubble-blowing try, I was victorious. They couldn't touch me. The machine wins again. My students greeted me with high-fives and looks of awe usually reserved for sports heroes and shiny new firetrucks.

And just my luck, someone captured it all on their digital camera. Because this is certainly a look I wouldn't want to forget:

And you thought I was exaggerating about the whole "steely glare" thing:

That's a look of pure competition-inspired contempt. I can't hide it. This is why I don't play poker.

We are what we eat.

2006-05-11T08:21:00.000-07:00

I'm reading the most fascinating book right now.

"The Way We Eat: Why Our Food Choices Matter."

It's co-authored by Jim Mason and Peter Singer. As some of you may know, I think Peter Singer is one of the most brilliant thinkers alive. If I could choose any living person to spend a day talking with, Peter Singer would be at the top of the list, edging even Joaquin Phoenix out. I don't agree with all of his theories, because ethically and philosophically speaking, I'm neither a humanist nor a strict Utilitarian. But I AM a fan of ethical debate and consciousness, and of sound, logical arguments. They make me weak in the knees, in fact.

Hence my love of this book.

The book looks at the normal diets of three American families, representing a spectrum of different ways people choose to eat. There's the Standard American Diet (SAD for short), which is the cost and time conscious choice of in a majority of American homes. Then there's the Conscientious Omnivores, who eat meat, but usually buy organic and pay attention to where there food is coming from. Finally, we meet the vegans. Everybody know what vegans are nowadays, right? Singer and Mason examine the products each family buys on a typical shopping trip, and then traces them backwards through the production process and look for any ethical problems that pop up.

You can anticipate the obvious, popular ethical issues like crowded chicken and pig farms, slaughter house practices, and fair trade issues. But there are some other food-related ethical issues most people don't think about, like environmental problems and animal suffering issues with seafood, ethical arguments for eating locally produced food, the ethics of obesity, and the question of whether it is ethical to raise children as vegans or not.

One of the things I like most about Singer is how accessible his work is. His philosophy is easy to understand and engaging to read. And though he's one of the world's foremost animal rights experts (having authored "Animal Liberation"), he isn't preachy. He approaches this book with the understanding that most people are going to continue to eat meat. He takes into account the fact that for most families, price and availability is their number one concern when stocking their kitchens. He just wants more people to be aware that eating choices, as much as anything else, have an impact on the world around us. He suggests that making even small changes in the way you think about food can make a difference.

Anyhow, I'm thoroughly enjoying the book, and I think some people around here would probably like it too.

E. All of the above?

2006-05-09T21:42:00.000-07:00

I was entertaining myself at sheppardsoftware.com (one of my all-time favorite websites ever) taking vocabulary quizzes [because I'm a dork]. I was especially amused by the following question:

A cynic is someone who:

A. Rates movies and books
B. Mistrusts people's motives
C. Offers unwanted advice
D. is grumpy

Welcome to my world, or at the very least, my blog.

Tuesdays are worse than Mondays, even.

2006-05-09T10:28:00.000-07:00

This is a long-held theory of mine. I hate Tuesdays, in general. Nothing good ever happens on Tuesdays. They're just Mondays with a little extra helping of Bland. If I had to rank the days of the week for badness, Tuesdays are worst, then Sunday nights, then Mondays. Thursdays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays, in that order from bad to not as bad, round out the rest.

I felt like posting something about a bizarre, ridiculous, and/or outlandish news story today, so I went to CrazyReports.com, a sort of clearing house for all those sorts of things. Like Fark.com, but not as cool looking.

The problem was, I couldn't find any news there that was suitably odd or notable. In fact, I noticed that the headlines on CrazyReports.com are actually look more like legitimate news stories.

Some CrazyReports headlines:

Now, look at some of the headlines from the cable news websites today:

Pretty soon, I'm just going to cancel my subscription to TIME and just get all my important news updates from the supermarket check-out line.

But if the actual news sites are posting ridiculous "news" (I just don't consider Tom, Britney, or this weeks reality TV show results to be NEWS news) disguised as legitimate news, and ridiculous "news" sites are posting regular news....then where am I going to go for off-the-wall, crazy-as-batshit news? Any ideas?

*Now, if they were talking about an actual fox having opinions about decriminalization laws, THAT would be a pretty awesome news story.

It's Monday.

2006-05-08T10:17:00.000-07:00

I worked all weekend long, which always makes me a little detached from the outside world. Which is a long way to say that I don't have much to say. Unless you want me to talk about the finer points of mental illness, delinquency, and the short-comings of the juvenile justice system as we know it. But honestly, it's kind of boring.

I DO have to admit that I was wrong earlier when I said that they couldn't PAY me to watch Mission Impossible 3. Apparently, they could. I didn't actually have much choice in the matter, so I don't feel too guilty about it.

It wasn't awful. I wouldn't see it again, but it didn't make my eyes bleed, or my spleen explode. So, I guess I'll count myself lucky. I did laugh a lot at inappropriate times, thanks to Tom Cruise. There's just something about him being 4 feet tall and crazy that makes me chuckle, I can't help it. I entertained myself by picking out scenes where he was either standing on a box, or they were employing some pretty fancy camera angles to make him look normal sized. My favorite instance was where he was filmed looking taller than his boss, Lawrence Fishburne. Lawrence Fishburne is 6'1". When I'm sitting in a movie theater, I'm willing to suspend a certain amount of disbelief....but that's going a bit too far.

I was happy to see that there was barely anybody in the theater. I think a lot of people are as sick of Cruise as I am. Which explains why the movie didn't do nearly as well as they thought it was going to do in its opening weekend.

An interesting note: The Barry Bonds' lovin' co-worker I wrote about earlier saw MI3 twice in one day. He's a big Tom Cruise fan too, apparently. It's always good to know my instincts about people are still razor sharp.

Social Ethics

2006-05-05T22:24:00.000-07:00

I like how that title up there makes it seem like this post is going to be all serious and legitimate.

It's totally not. I'm just bored after work, and writing rambling thoughts on the screen. Lucky you. And lucky for me that no one really reads this on the weekends.

The question I have is:

Is it ethically wrong for me to decide I don't like a new co-worker based entirely on the fact that he said he was a Barry Bonds fan? I'm just not sure how anyone can be a Bonds fan, without at least making some concession re: the doping scandal. I mean, who seriously cheers for the 'roid raging over-grown playground bully? No one I care to know, that's for sure.

So, I briefly wondered if I make snap judgments based on sports, movies and pop culture too often. Maybe I shouldn't write off potential friends for their sports preferences, crappy taste in movies or whether or not they watch Fear Factor.

I say "briefly," because in the next breath said party confirmed the validity of my initial judgment when he called the Minnesota Twins "pathetic."

We will never be friends. It couldn't be more obvious to me, after that.

The sad fact is, for the utter ridiculousness of most of my friendship litmus tests, they're almost always right on the money.

At least as far as my interactions with people go, anyway.

I won't say that someone who likes Barry Bonds is a bad person, per se.* But I will say that it's more than likely that we do not share similar values or perspectives. Someone who doesn't laugh at Anchorman probably isn't the Anti-Christ, but it's safe for me to assume that we may never have a meaningful connection or mutual understanding.

The things I like (and dislike) are important to me. They both demonstrate and help shape the kind of person I am. So, is it really wrong for me to gauge the probability of friendship with new people based almost entirely on them?

I know that there's more to a lasting friendship than having the same favorite Fraggle, or agreeing that PCU is one of the most underrated movies ever made. But it sure doesn't hurt.

*It's entirely possible though.

Lost in the mail

2006-05-05T09:12:00.000-07:00

When it comes to pop culture, I find that I'm either on the cutting edge, or I'm stubbornly and deliberately behind the times. I either latch onto something early in the game, so that I'm bored with it by the time everyone else climbs on the bandwagon (ie Desperate Housewives), or I simply refuse to get into things that everybody tells me I'll like (24). I think I just don't like liking things that everybody else likes. It's this sort of stubbornness that draws me to cult entertainment phenomena (but ironically makes me less likely to be drawn into actual cults, go figure), rather than mainstream hits*.

occasionally though, I relent. It's rare, but I'm only human. Most recently, I decided to give Lost a shot. It's been on for two seasons now, so I felt that it was perfect timing for me to show up to the party fashionably late. Honestly, the main reason I decided to order up season 1 from Netflix was because there are characters named Locke and Rousseau, and any show bold enough to reference social contract philosophers on network television has to be worth a look.

I'm only slightly embarrassed to admit that I'm kind of addicted to it now. Not only is it well written, by people who are smart enough to understand social contract philosophy, but it keeps my brain entertained looking for clues and patterns. And if there's one thing my brain enjoys more than anything else, it's over-analyzing even the tiniest of inconsequential details to the point of being ridiculous.

I've found myself anxiously awaiting the mailman's arrival whenever I'm due for a new disc from Netflix. Which presents a problem, even above and beyond the obvious patheticness. My Lost DVDs are taking at least a day longer to reach me by mail than other DVDs mailed out at the same time. They're taking 2-3 days longer to reach Netflix than other DVDs I mail out at the same time. It's just the Lost discs. All the other movies come and go through the mail like normal. I'm baffled. Maybe someone at the Post Office likes Lost too, but is too cheap to get Netflix or buy the DVDs? Is that possible?

The same part of my brain that likes trying to decipher characters' tattoos and rearrange the letters of their names to look for anagrams, is having a field day with the postal mystery as well. There has to be an explanation. I just don't know what it is.

However, I do know that "DVDS LOST IN THE MAIL" can be rearranged to say "I HANDLED TIM'S VOLTS."

*The Harry Potter and Sex and the City franchises are the obvious exceptions here.

Score one for enlightenment.

2006-05-03T18:59:00.000-07:00

I was sitting by myself in a waiting room today, watching cable news when the Moussaoui verdict was announced, and Chris Matthews began his annoying spin on the situation. Honestly, I wasn’t really paying attention to what Matthews was saying at first, because I was overcome with a very unfamiliar sensation that can only be described as hope. It was wonderful.

Certain people will probably condemn me for that feeling. I’m soft on crime. I’m anti-American. I’m on the terrorists' side. That’s their right. They can label me as they wish.

Does Zacarias Moussaoui deserve to die for what he did (or didn’t do, actually)? Absolutely. His willful misleading of investigators did result in the deaths of thousands of people. No, he doesn’t deserve to take another breath of air. Period.

But a jury decided to spare his life anyway.

They spared the life of a man who has forfeited his right to live. I cannot think of any more beautiful thought.

Tonight I’m going to sleep better than I have in years, knowing that my country is greater than the terrorists who seek to destroy it. And it’s not because we have more guns, bigger armies or an unwavering resolve to “smoke ‘em out.” Rather it’s because, at the end of the day, we still have a country where a jury of average people is allowed to use reason, intelligence and compassion to go against popular opinion, and even the will of their government, and take mercy on an enemy who did nothing to deserve that mercy, and spits in the face of it.

In the same situation, would our enemies behave the same?

This is what sets us apart from them.

Some people still believe that there are other ways to solve problems besides killing other people. Score one for enlightenment.

Go read something else.

2006-05-03T13:09:00.000-07:00

Like, about how Senator Feingold was recently hanging out in Iowa. *wink*

Or eRobin's awesome post about how quickly the media machine works to discredit and marginalize anyone who dares to push the envelope.

But come back here eventually, because I might have something more to say later. You never know.

News Flash?

2006-05-02T10:17:00.000-07:00

Our kids are dumb. No kidding.

I've always liked geography. When I was younger, I really wanted to be on Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? I watched it religiously, and I studied maps of Africa, because when kids didn't win on the map portion at the end, it was usually because they got a map of Africa and didn't know where anything was. So, I was damn sure going to be ready when my time came.

It never did, but at least I can locate African countries on a map.

I also wanted to go to the National Geography Bee, but that was more about my bizarre obsession with meeting Alex Trebek than anything else, I think.

In high school, I realized that other kids were not very well-versed in geography, and even more disturbing to me: they didn't mind.

I remember one girl in our World Cultures class made it her goal to get 2 right on a map test of the Middle East. So, when the test was handed out, she wrote the following:

1. Iran
2. Iraq
3. Iran
4. Iraq
5. Iran
6. Iraq
7. Iran
8. Iraq

Etc., thinking this would guarantee her 2 correct answers. Not surprisingly, she actually got Iran and Iraq switched around and got a zero. The best laid plans of mice and men......

So, this isn't really a new phenomenon. Most kids hate geography. I don' t know why. Whenever I make the kids I tutor study maps and practice geography facts, anyone listening outside the door would think I was shoving bamboo shoots under their fingernails. For them, maps are a fate worse than long division.

I'm saddened, but I'm not surprised by this young generations' inability to find Iraq or Louisiana* on a map. I'll continue bribing kids with Laffy Taffies to study geography to try to remedy the situation for future generations, but there's only so much one flamingo can do.

I'm glad that I'm old enough to no longer be included in that 18-24 demographic, but just to be on the safe side, I took the MSNBC geography quiz anyway. I got one wrong, without cheating or googling. If you take the quiz too, I'll tell you which one. It was a stupid mistake on my part, and I'll be kicking myself all day, I'm sure.

I didn't get any wrong about Africa though.

Thank you Carmen Sandiego.

*A small part of me is jealous of these tykes, I must say. I can only imagine that my life would be much different now if I hadn't been able to find Louisiana on a map either.

Awwwwww

2006-05-01T16:01:00.000-07:00

This is by far the cutest/strangest flamingo news story ever.

Gay flamingos celebrate fifth anniversary with their children
LINK
Britain's only gay flamingos Carlos and Fernando, are celebrating their fifth anniversary together with their adopted children at Slimbridge Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust in Gloucestershire.

The pair surprised staff at the wildlife park after they came out five years ago and began to engage in a series of complex mating rituals. The pink birds have been inseparable ever since and have even raised chicks together after they stole eggs from neighbouring straight couples.

Whilst Flamingos are generally monogamous during the annual breeding periods, they tend to swap partners each year. Therefore, claim the birds' keepers, their enduring love is somewhat unique.

"They only have eyes for each other," said Nigel Jarrett, a keeper at the nature reserve.

"I have never seen two male flamingos fall for each other before, although homosexuality is not uncommon in the animal kingdom."

"Carlos and Fernando have been together for five years and seem very happy. They will probably stay together for the rest of their lives."

Mr Jarret added that they appear to have been accepted by the other birds in the flock:"'They are both large adult males, so as a partnership they are quite formidable.

'They are not picked on by the other birds. If anything, they are afforded more respect. They are very good parents and behave just as the heterosexual birds do when rearing their young."

The pair have together raised three chicks.

That's sweet. Except for the stealing babies part. That's weird.

Thank you Chuckie, for the email. It made my day.

W. T. F.

2006-05-01T08:05:00.000-07:00

Check this out.

Now, if that didn't make you laugh so hard you peed a little, I don't know what will.

Thanks to Michelle, creator of The Dark and Moody Chicks comic that has been rocking my blogworld on a daily basis for the past week, for the link.

Instead of mourning a genocide, stop one.

2006-04-30T07:44:00.000-07:00

Today is the big rally in D.C. to bring attention to the genocide in Darfur.

Timely, considering that due to a shortage of money coming in earmarked for aid to the refugees, their food rations will be cut in half. Every man woman and child, all 6.1 million of them, will now have to survive on a ration of roughly 1,000 calories a day. Just after aid workers have managed to get a handle on the malnutrition rates, the rates are expected to rise again.

I think the whole point of the rally is to say that we have a choice right now. We can either look the problem in the face now and take action to help, or we can sit back, ignore it, and ten years down the road we can watch some movies about it and self-righteously tut-tut the lack of response.

Here in the U.S. we spent over $23 million on tickets to the movie Hotel Rwanda. I can't find the DVD sales total, but I'm sure there's even more money there. I'd propose that every movie-goer take the amount of money that they will likely spend on a ticket to the movie that will no doubt be made about this genocide, and donate it to buy food and shelter for these people, before the fact. I'm even throwing in the $8 I'm not spending on the 9/11 movie, just for good measure.

It's Sunday. You're probably not doing anything THAT important today anyway. So, DO SOMETHING about this. I'll even give you some recommendations here, from the Human Rights Watch:

Contact Your Elected Representatives: Write and call your representatives in Congress and the State Department, asking them to support U.S. and international efforts to reverse ethnic cleansing and stop attacks against civilians in Darfur. Ask President Bush, members of Congress, and the State Department to do the following:
Visit and speak out on Darfur;
Support a Chapter VII resolution in the U.N. Security Council that will reverse ethnic cleansing, protect civilians, permit the voluntary return of refugees and displaced persons to their homes in safety and dignity, and ensure full humanitarian access;
Substantially fund the humanitarian, peacekeeping and other costs of Darfur, including the African Union Mission in Sudan; and
Demand that the government of Sudan cooperate with the International Criminal Court and effectively address accountability for human rights abuses and crimes against humanity in Sudan.

You may find the contact information for your Representative or Senator at: http://www.congress.org/congressorg/home/.

You may also contact the State Department by writing to the Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice, at U.S. Department of State, 2201 C Street NW, Washington, DC 20520; head of African affairs at the State Department, Jendayi Frazer, at frazerje@state.gov; or the U.S. mission to the United Nations at usa@un.int.

You may write to President George W. Bush at the White House, Washington, D.C. or email: president@whitehouse.gov

Donate to Humanitarian Agencies: A number of nongovernmental humanitarian agencies are providing help to Sudanese refugees in Chad and to Darfurians inside Sudan. Contact the following agencies for more information on their work in Chad and Darfur:

CARE
151 Ellis Street NE
Atlanta, GA 30303-2440
United States
Phone: 1-800-521-CARE ext. 999
Online at: http://www.careusa.org

Doctors Without Borders-Holland (Médecins Sans Frontières, MSF-H)
Doctors Without Borders-France (MSF-F):
Please contact MSF’s New York office at 1-888-392-0392 or online at http://www.doctorswithoutborders.org

International Committee of the Red Cross
19 avenue de la Paix
1202 Geneva, Switzerland
Online at: http://www.icrc.org

International Rescue Committee
122 East 42nd Street
New York, NY 10168
United States
Phone: 212-551-3000
Online at: http://www.theirc.org

Oxfam America
1100 15th St., NW Suite 600
Washington, DC 20005
Online at: http://www.oxfamamerica.org/

Save the Children-US
Attn: Donor Services
54 Wilton Road
Westport, CT 06880
Phone: 1-800-728-3843
Online at: http://www.savethechildren.org

U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR)
c/o USA for UNHCR
1775 K Street, NW Suite 290
Washington, DC 20006
United States
Phone: 1-800-770-1100
Online at: http://www.usaforunhcr.org

UNICEF (United Nations ChildrenÂs Fund)
c/o U.S. Fund for UNICEF
333 East 38th Street
New York, NY 10016
United States
Online at: http://www.unicefusa.org

Friday Feminist Anecdote

2006-04-28T10:31:00.000-07:00

Instead of the Friday Random Ten, which I'm getting bored with, maybe my new Friday mainstay should be bitter feminist diatribes.

This one is called:

Fuck Owen.

I was a Philosophy minor in school, as many of you know. As part of that, a course in Logic was required. You could take either Mathematical Reasoning from the Math Department, or Logical Reasoning from the Philosophy Department. Everyone I talked to said Logical Reasoning was much more difficult. So I took that one. I loved it, because I was AWESOME at it. Unstoppable. I didn't lose one point. NOT ONE single point on any essays, tests or assignments. I was like a logically reasoning machine. My professor even divulged to me that no one else was doing nearly as well.

Toward the end of the semester, the prof had us do a group project during class one day. He assigned our groups and we all clustered off. I was in a group of all guys. They kept looking longingly over to a different group. One of them said "Aww. They're so lucky. They've got Owen!" Now, Owen was another philosophy minor. He was smart, I'm not denying that. But, he wasn't smarter than me.

I tried to tell them that I had the assignment under control, not to worry. But they literally ignored every thing I said. They went on for TEN minutes talking about how brilliant Owen is, and how easy this assignment would be if he were in the group.

So, I did the assignment on my own. I handed it in and explained to the professor that I tried to work with the group, but they were busy talking about other things. He smiled and said "Well, that's unfortunate for them, isn't it?"

I got an A. 100%. The dopes in my group got C's. Owen got an A-.

Fuck Owen. Metaphorically speaking.

And goddamn there are a lot of Owens out there.

Oh happy day.

2006-04-26T20:35:00.000-07:00

I was helping my mother with some gardening/landscaping projects today. At one point, she dug up something, and called me over to have a look.

"Is this something of yours, maybe?"

I looked at the tiny plastic object in her hand. Its barrel body and shiny, metallic, dome-shaped head were unmistakable. In a candid fit of unchecked exuberance I shouted:

"Artoo!!"

Yes, my mother was holding in her hand actual physical evidence of pre-adolescent Flamingo geekiness. My R2-D2 action figure had come home to me, after 20 years.

I kinda felt like Obi-Wan. I won't lie.

He was full of dirt, but completely intact:

I decided I had to take care of the little guy, and clean him up.

So I gave R2 a bubble bath in the sink:

When I had him all scrubbed up, he looked a little better, even though all of his front control panel is missing, because it was printed on a decal, and the dirt kind of ruined that.

But I don't care. And neither does he. We're a family again.

My mom asked me if I remember how he might have gotten buried in the garden in the first place. I think that it probably happened when I was pretending that the garden dirt was the unforgiving sands of Tatooine. I remember finding C-3PO in roughly the same area about 10 years ago. I would venture a guess that I was playing Deserts of Tatooine, got called away for dinner, and the droids got left behind. I feel kind of bad about it, now.

But it's all good now. Funny how stuff like that happens.

Things that make you go barf.

2006-04-26T08:43:00.000-07:00

First off, I had a random and totally nauseating thought upon waking this morning, and I decided to share it with the class. Misery loves company.

Also, Britney Spears is pregnant by K-Fed again.

So, with her in the market for another baby name, Angelina Jolie ready to pop any day now, and God knows how many other celebrity babymamas cranking out kids, there's going to be a big need for a lot of crazy whacked out names for celebrity babies.

Lucky for them, I've been keeping a list of names that will look awesome on a future mugshot, or on the Child Protective Services paperwork.

Grab 'em quick before Gwyneth Paltrow and Katie Holmes snag all of them.

Snapple (OK, I was actually saving this one for Gwyneth herself, until she brought forth a boy child from her womb.)
Twizzler
Hoboken (nickname Hobo)
Aspartame
Porridge
Rickets
Charlie Brown
Five
Gong Show
Berlin
Hokey and Pokey (in case of twins)
Sucrose
Lord of the Rings
Lexmark
Flava
Lizard Breath (a rockstar's kid, obviously)
Florescent
PG
Analog
Bait
Taupe
Belgium
Spoon
Median
Punky Brewster
Stamp
Gorp (for the faux-granola celebs)
Diamond
Zirconium (for the B-listers)
Candle
Cherubim
Thrombosis
Granule
Lorax
Blog

You get the picture. I got a billion of 'em. Do you think I could get a job just naming celebrity babies? I'd be awesome at it.

P.S. Incidentally, when I did a spell-check, the spell-checker couldn't recognize half of the words. I think that's how you tell a celebrity baby name is REALLY good.

P.P.S. I'm now adding "Spell-Checker" to my list of celebrity baby names.

Movies I won't see for $500, Alex.

2006-04-25T08:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I brag about how I get paid to go to movies for work. It is kind of a nice bonus. Occasionally, someone will ask me if there are any movies they couldn't even PAY me to go see. I haven't had any concrete examples until now.

This weekend, I absolutely refused to get paid to watch Scary Movie 4. I actually chose watching NO movie over getting in free and being paid to watch it. I think that says something either about me, or about the Scary Movie Franchise. I just couldn't imagine anything more painful than having to suffer through 2 hours of gross, tired, schtick.

I'm not a comedy snob. I'm really not. I like stupid humor as much as 75% of the next guys. This stuff just gets TOO stupid. It's gross and it's dumb. I don't like things that bring everything down to the lowest common denominator. Wait...maybe that does make me a comedy snob.....oh well.

So, now that I know there IS a theatrical line, across which I will not tread, here are some other upcoming movies that people couldn't pay me to watch.

United 93
I'm not sure why this movie was made. I dislike disaster movies in general. I don't enjoy reliving mass tragedy in a movie theater for entertainment purposes. But 9/11 disaster movies appeal to me even less. Contrary to what genuine ass-hat country singer Darryl Worley believes, I have NOT forgotten what happened on 9/11. I don't need to see it on the big screen. I feel about this kind of the same way I felt about the Passion of the Christ. I don't need to see a 2 hour Jesus-beating to make me understand the Bible. And I don't need to watch flight 93 go down on screen in order to be a good American. I know I'm alone in that. I have no doubt that I'll be alone in that sentiment. I predict that we will flock to this movie in droves. Everyone I know will see it, and they will most likely tell me how fantastic it is, and try to convince me to go to it. But I will resist, so don't even bother, y'all.

Poseidon
I didn't really like the original Poseidon Adventure. And I didn't like Titanic. (See above notation re: disaster flicks). So, I can't imagine I would like this.

Mission Impossible III
No. Way. In. Hell.
Tom Cruise being a creepy, manic, asshole has managed to turn me off this project single-handedly.

Miami Vice
Just looking at Colin Farrell in the previews makes my skin crawl. I can't imagine 2 hours of this.
Monster House
In the past four months, I would guess that I've seen the preview for this movie roughly 25 times. That's about all the time of my life I'm willing to spend on it.

World Trade Center
The Oliver Stone 9/11 offering coming up in August. In spite of Stone, Nic Cage, and Maria Bello, I will be forced to pass on this one as well.

The Omen
The original movie scared the bejeezus out of me, and I'm just not going through that again.

I think those are the only films that I'm absolutely going to refuse to watch.

In an entirely different vein, there are a few movies that I don't WANT to see/like, but probably will:

The Da Vinci Code
I think I was the only person in the world who thought the book, while sort of entertaining, was wildly over-rated. And Tom Hank's hair scares me almost as much as The Omen. But I'll go see it anyway. Because I like non-disaster related controversy and Audrey Tautou.

A Prairie Home Companion
I cannot believe that Lindsay Lohan was cast in this film. That alone nearly ruined the anticipation for me. But my love for Robert Altman, Garrison Keillor and the real PHC will win out.

The Break-Up
I don't really like Jennifer Aniston. Especially after being completely grossed out and disturbed by the ickiness of Rumor Has It. And I'm not sure how I feel about the whole Aniston/Vince Vaughn thing. So, I'm not that excited about this movie. But if the Old 97's are performing in the movie, I'll be there. Probably 3 or 4 times. At least.

Lady in the Water
I'm not sure I trust M. Night Shyamalon anymore. And Paul Giamatti irritates me, I'm sorry. But I'm sure I'll see this one anyway.

Most of the other summer releases I'd be willing to see for free. Hell, I'll even pay good money to see most of them.

The Male Gaze

2006-04-23T12:27:00.003-07:00

I found this nifty photo essay via Bitch Ph.D. It's definitely worth clicking through, whether you're a man or a woman. It's fascinating look at gender and advertising.

Friday Night Rhett-Sweat

2006-04-23T07:24:00.000-07:00

I went to see Rhett Miller in Minneapolis on Friday.

I almost didn't make it there, due to me being a huge idiot. It's a long story, and one I considered telling here in an audioblog Friday, until I realized how stupid it would make me look. Let's just say it involved sitting in the local DMV at 5:00 on a Friday afternoon, 20 minutes before I was supposed to be meeting a friend 90 minutes away. And a mere 3 hours before the doors opened at the club. In almost-tears. It wasn't good.

But, I DID make it to the show. Thank you sweet Jesus, I made it to the show.

As many of you may be aware, I have a huge band-crush on Rhett's other band, The Old 97's. It's actually a full-blown case of obsession, I think. This then translates to a full-blown case of obsession for Rhett himself when he's doing the whole "solo" thing. And really, can anybody blame me? I'm not entirely alone, as there are a lot of Old 97's/Rhett Miller fans around the world. And there's no such thing as "sort of" liking the Old 97's. If you know them, you either don't like them, or you secretly worship them in your basement when no one is looking. There really is no middle ground here, as far as I can tell.

Mostly though, I think the majority of the populace just doesn't know them. Which, I've decided, is A-OK with me. The club was pretty full, but not so packed that it was uncomfortable, or translated into impossible lines for the bar or bathrooms. You can't beat that. Between the Old 97's and Rhett Miller, I think I can safely say that no one keeps me company better, or more often, in my car. And there is absolutely no one I would rather watch live. The shows are long, and high energy. I'm not quite sure how they do it. The crowd usually wears out before they do. It's insane. However they manage it, you definitely get your money's worth.
And I'm worried that if everyone suddenly grows some good taste and catches on, the magic will go away. I'll have to pay a lot more than $13 to see them, and I will probably end up farther than 6 feet away. And if I'm not close enough to actually see individual beads of sweat dripping off of Rhett's hair, then forget it.

I think I'm going to start going to Old 97's/Rhett Miller shows alone, though. Officially making me the kind of lonely, sad bastard that gets referred to in craigslist ads. But twice in a row now, I've gone with people who claim to want to be there, but they don't really know what they're getting into, I think. Even though I DO try to make it clear to them beforehand. Then I feel guilty, because the shows ARE really long. And I guess if you're not that into it, that's NOT such a good thing. Plus, if I stop telling people about them, they can remain relatively obscure, and I can still get close enough to have Rhett-sweat flung on me.

I like this review of his NYC concert from the Hollywood Reporter:

Somehow, major stardom has eluded Rhett Miller, despite having everything it takes: video-friendly good looks, a strong voice and superb songwriting skills that incorporate influences ranging from country to pop to rock. Playing on Thursday at Webster Hall with his new band the Believers (his former group, the Old 97s, is on hiatus) in support of his second solo release, "The Believer," Miller seemed determined to make his bid by delivering a high-energy two-hour set that featured more than two dozen numbers.

And this one from Boston:

Sometimes it's just so right. By the time the show was over Wednesday night, it was one happy-looking rock 'n' roll band onstage at the Paradise. Rhett Miller and his new road troupe, the Believers, performed a near-perfect set of melodic rockers that, despite the band's cool-handed musicianship, were delivered with raw intensity.

With mop-top bobbing and hips swiveling, Miller etched out stunning pop, topped by the blistering encore ''Singular Girl." But for all the seductive physicality on display, it was Miller's tunesmithery and wry one liners that were most memorable.

Is it wrong of me to love them so much I hope they never make it to "major stardom"?

Eureka

2006-04-21T07:59:00.000-07:00

I've pin-pointed exactly what is wrong with the world. Sort of.

I thought that task would be a little more difficult than it was, but it was pretty simple, really. It only took me about 20 minutes.

I was recently at work, and after all the little hellions were asleep in bed, I started channel surfing. For some reason, when I'm getting paid to watch TV, I wind up watching things out of curiosity that I would never in a million years have on my OWN television.

This time it was The Simple Life: Interns. I've seen maybe two episodes of The Simple Life total. I've never watched an episode of the "Interns" season at all, so I'm not quite sure what the premise is. I assume that Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie travel the country (apparently by Greyhound Bus?) and take jobs as interns at various companies, where they work alongside actual hard-working, legitimately talented, interns and proceed to show them up.

The episode didn't start TOO bad. The girls found the family they'd be staying with. The family happened to have two baby orangutans, so a musical montage of shots with the girls and monkeys ensued, only vaguely hinting at beastiality.

But then the girls went to work. From what I could gather, they were supposed to create an ad for a new Burger King burger. They tormented their fellow interns, calling them bitches, and being cruelly derogatory in general. Then they came up with an idea for a tv commercial that was so horribly stupid, it was obviously intentional. Then they got shipped off to a nearby Burger King to do some "market research."

They don Burger King uniforms and commence acting like asses at the drive-thru window. They feign disappointment when no one takes them seriously, citing the fact that it's because they're so recognizable. So, to compensate, they put brown wigs and false teeth on, and begin shrieking into the mirror about how hideous they look.

It was at this point that my shift was over, so I didn't see the rest. I can only assume, based on the fact that Nicole and Paris are the producers of their own show, that they came up with an ad campaign everyone liked better than the REAL interns, and they were once again rewarded and fawned over for being stupid and mean. TA-DA!

I was so disturbed by the whole thing, that it bothered me the entire drive home. Forget nipples and teen sex parties....the FCC should be handing out major fines for THIS type of programming.

Now, I'm not NEW to the "Paris Hilton is pure evil" bandwagon. But I try to avoid this sort of pop culture, so I guess I've been somewhat sheltered. I didn't realize how BAD it was.

WHY would anyone WATCH this?

But we do watch it. We watch and we worship. It really just confirms so many of my suspicions.

Everyone can talk 'til they're blue in the face about how they like and respect nice, intelligent, sane women. But, in reality, what everyone REALLY wants are crazy little bitches.

That's right. I said it:

Crazy. Little. Bitches.

Crazy little bitches who act dumb. Please note that I did not say "crazy little bitches who ARE dumb," because I do not believe for one second that Paris, Jessica/Ashley Simpson, Lindsey Lohan, etc. are actually stupid. They're just smart enough to know that's the way to make the money and get the attention.

Smart women are intimidating. I get that. I don't know why it is, but for some reason "smart women" are a terror akin to poisonous snakes, suicide bombers and Adam Carrolla in a Speedo.

And let's face it....if you had to choose between an intelligent, challenging debate, or the equivalent of Paris Hilton looking you up and down and uttering a breathy "That's hot," I can predict with near certainty what everyone would choose.

And I'm not just talking about the men here (although y'all, in general, ARE a big part of the problem...sorry). Everyone seems to play an important role in the dumbing down of the American female. Men just plain old want them. As women, we want to be them. Or we at least want them to approve of us and be our friends. It's sick, and pervasive. The first time a girl tries playing a dumb, giggling, helpless sycophant, and is positively rewarded with attention for it, she's most likely lost. It's addictive, I guess.

Back in college, for one of my honors courses, we had a guest lecturer on feminist politics and the women's suffrage and women's rights movements. She was fascinating, and brilliant. (Is it any surprise then that she was also one of the most hated faculty members on campus?) At the end of her lecture, she had a Q & A, and I asked her if she thought there would be a woman President in my lifetime. She looked me square in the eye, with a chillingly pained expression, and answered simply "No, I don't. I'm sorry."

I'm beginning to believe her. Any woman who is intelligent, bold and articulate enough for the job, will be so demonized and vilified by the time she gets around to it, that it will be pointless for her to run. We'd probably have a better shot at seeing a Speedo-ed Adam Carolla in the West Wing.

Before everyone starts rationalizing with a chorus of "But,I'm not like that," remember that actions speak louder than words. As I often tell the boys at work when I'm chewing them out for something as a group: "If you aren't doing it, then you know I'm not talking to you." But I think we all need to be diligent in this regard. I, for one, vow to make my life a crazy little bitch free zone. I refuse to be one, I refuse to befriend one, I refuse to reward one, I refuse to give any attention to one, and I definitely refuse to spend any more valuable time allowing them into my home via the magic of television.

I see where you're going with this, Mr. President.

2006-04-20T10:15:00.000-07:00

You can't fool me.

First you named John Bolton the UN Ambassador.

Now you've made Joshua Bolten your new Chief of Staff.

Now, one of three things is happening here.

A. Your memory is really bad (duh), and you're pulling a George Foreman by trying to eventually create an entire staff with the same name, so you don't have to remember anything else.

B. You have a backlog of "clever" nicknames already made up for guys named Bolton/Bolten, and you're itching to be able to use them.

And, most frightening:

C. You're trying to wear us down, so that when you eventually name Michael Bolton to the cabinet, you can sneak it by us. We'll be so used to dudes named Bolton, you think we won't notice an extra one.

But I'm on to you. So, you can just forget about THAT.

Hey, careful, man, there's a beverage here!

2006-04-19T18:42:00.000-07:00

(Alternately titled "The post I'm going to hell for writing.")

First off....take a look at my new Nalgene:

I have a bigger, normal looking one, but lately I've been feeling the need for a smaller one for short trips, activities, whatnot. So, this made sense. It's the right size, PLUS by buying it, I helped support breast cancer research. Can't beat that.

OK, but now look at it again.

Is it just me, or is this Nalgene vaguely reminiscent of a baby bottle? The shape, the baby pink color scheme, the rounded and notched plastic cap on top.

I can't stop thinking about it. It LOOKS like a baby bottle to me.

Therefore, when I look at it, it seems like there should be a nipple there on top. But there isn't one.

(This next bit is obviously the part I'm going to hell for. I know.)

So....it makes me think that this is not the best mental parallel the manufacturers should be drawing for a product that has anything to do with breast cancer treatment. It's an unfortunate metaphor, I think.

Maybe it's just me. I DO have a pretty twisted mind.

Anyway. On to more news in my world of beverage choices.

I tried Coca Cola Blak this week. Now, for those of you who are unfamiliar, Blak is the new "Carbonated Fusion Beverage" that Coca Cola is currently marketing. It's like Coke and coffee mixed together. Now, THAT just sounds so gross to me, that I swore I wasn't going to try it.

But there was a 2 for 1 sale on the stuff, and I figured "what harm could it possibly do? It's JUST a beverage." Plus, it came in a nifty little glass bottle that I thought was ADORABLE.

I was thirsty, so I cracked one of the bottles open in the parking lot. When I lifted the cap, a cloud of vapor rose out of the bottle, as if there was dry ice inside. It was like something out of a commercial. I even briefly looked around to see if Adrian Brody was walking around nearby. The whole atmosphere inspired me to have the courage to take a sip.

For a split second, I recall thinking "Hmm. This isn't quite as bad as I thought it would..."

And before my brain could form the word "BE," the whole taste shone through.

At that point I was torn between wanting to throw up on the pavement and wanting to throw myself in front of the first vehicle to come my way.

It is the foulest tasting drink I have ever had. This even beats out the chocolate martini I had in Seattle that made me wish I had never been born.

If you're thinking of buying a bottle of the stuff, save yourself the money. I have a recipe here that will recreate the exact flavor precisely.

First, open a can of Coke. Leave it out in a warm place, overnight
After you make your morning coffee, save the grounds
Pour the grounds on the floor, and stomp on them. The dirtier your shoes are, the better
Melt a couple of those cheap nasty caramel candies in the microwave
Mix the old warm Coke, the dirty coffee grounds, and the cheap nasty caramel in a glass
Stir
Enjoy

I couldn't believe how bad it was, so I took it to my mom. I only had her SMELL it, and her judgment was "Oh my god, that's like death in a bottle!"

And, in non-beverage news, I cut the top of my foot on a raspberry branch the other day.

It's not a particularly bad, or deep, scratch. But I think it may have damaged a nerve. I suspect that the nerve in question is the one responsible for telling my brain "there's a spider crawling up your middle toe!" Because now, for some reason, it feels like there's a spider crawling up my middle toe ALL THE TIME. I'm learning to ignore it, but now I worry that when and if the time comes that there is an actual spider crawling up my middle toe, it will be like the boy who cried wolf.

Except that it will be the nerve who cried spider.

There goes the neighborhood.

2006-04-19T18:27:00.000-07:00

Well, the Neo-Cons and the pseudo-Christian Right finally have their way.

We're officially back in the dark ages.

How do I know this?

Because I read the following sentence in a real news story today:

LOS ANGELES - A woman is in stable condition with bubonic plague.

Yes. Bubonic plague.

I think I may have actually written that exact sentence once. Maybe in middle school, when history teachers look for new and exciting ways to make you remember things you'd rather forget. Sometimes we had to write newspaper articles about historical events, as if we were actually there witnessing it.

"A woman is in stable condition with bubonic plague" totally sounds like something I would have written.

On the Street again...

2006-04-19T15:38:00.000-07:00

The American Street team is having a Spring re-birth. Everybody should check it out.

I'm posting there on Wednesdays now, so everybody should especially check THAT out.

I spent a good chunk of my day today "researching" my post.

Now I feel dirty.

Apocalypse NOW?

2006-04-18T17:21:00.000-07:00

Apparently.

LOS ANGELES - The Tomkitten* has arrived.
Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, the high-profile pair dubbed TomKat by the media, had a baby girl Tuesday, said Cruise spokesman Arnold Robinson.
The baby, named Suri, weighed 7 pounds, 7 ounces and measured 20 inches long, he said.

You KNOW all of those sevens mean something creepy crazy religious-wise. I'll have to consult my copy of "Battlefield Earth" for the answer**.

May God have mercy on all of our souls.

* I sincerely apologize for the use of the phrase "Tomkitten" on this blog, as it will probably induce dry-heaves in much of the population I respect.
** This is obviously a joke. I do not now, nor have I ever, owned a copy of Battlefield Earth.

Funniest Scariest Quote of the Day

2006-04-18T09:59:00.000-07:00

"I hear the voices, and I read the front page and I know the speculation," the president said. "But I'm the decider, and I decide what's best."

-George Walker Bush, 43rd President of the United States of America

And what are the voices saying, Mr. President?

Are they telling you to harm yourself or others?

Because there ARE pills for that, nowadays. Knocks 'em right out.

But that's up to you.

You are the decider.

Funny Trades

2006-04-18T07:10:00.000-07:00

Once the AP grabbed this story about the blogger with a paper clip and a dream, it's been big news. So you probably already know the story.

Yesterday I was bored and MacDonald's story inspired me to check out my local craigslist barter ads for cheap and easy entertainment. I was not disappointed. (oddly enough, when you have low expectations and you're easily amused, you're NEVER disappointed.)

Advertising for your ??
I can market your business to 7,000-10,000 Minnesota Men every month. This is no bull. Looking to barter for newer computers, guns, boats, fishing electronics, 4 wheelers, etc. Tell me what ya got, and I can tell you more what I can do for you.

I think that this is probably a highly successful prostitute, who is uncharacteristically "outdoors-y." Think Pretty Woman meets the Rod and Gun Club.

This next one is just sad. Poor bastard:

Wedding rings for ???
Hello. I have a set of rings from when we first got married in 1995. Solitare Diamond engagement ring less than a carat (.79?)size 6.5, woman's' comfort fit wedding band with lief jou carved inside (Afrikaans for love you)size 6.5, Mans' comfort fit wedding band size 9. All yellow gold. Paid $1700 in 1995 at Zales (so not top of the line goods...we were rich in love but cash poor). What is worth today and used? I have no idea. Willing to trade for gift cards, cash, or sectional (delivered!). Send your ideas, pictures, etc.

Now, just take a minute to reflect on the headline for this next ad. I think this is particularly poorly worded for an ad in a barter listing. I'll let you follow the link to the ad itself, because I think the headline is a lot funnier all by itself.

1 siameese kitten for my son please....

Then, when I got bored with Minneapolis trades, I branched out into other cities where I thought loads of entertaining crazy people might be lurking.

From NYC:

Barter math tutoring for massage
Professional tutor interested in exchanging math tutoring for massage from female certified massage therapist.

Sounds like the perfect set-up for a bad porn, to me.

I can DJ your event...in exchange for massage

Male looking for female massage Also, looking for some keyboards...controller..

I'm sensing a pattern here....

Photoshoot for Massage
You get pictures. I get a massage. Professional photographer with 14 years experience. I come to you or you come to my studio. I am a mid-30's male, will do whatever kind of photoshoot you need. Let's both save money!

It be super funny if the following guy was willing to trade his massage skills:

cialis wanted - about 10

From New Orleans:

This one is long and weird. So, I'll just post a little of it:

You Need a Real Friend?
I have NO FEES; I make my living BARTERING (or trading). FOR EXAMPLE: For 1 hour of my time I may ask you to bring me a bottle of shampoo --- OR a gallon of milk --- OR to wash my car.

At first, I thought it might be a prostitute too. But it's not. I don't think. Probably. I don't really know what it is, so you'll have to click the above link to read the whole ad.

From Atlanta:

This one is probably my personal favorite:

Beer Fund jar
I recently stopped drinking and have no need for a "Beer Fund" jar. Too many nights of blacking out and finding myself in compromising situations. Like the time I starting drinking in my apartment on Friday and woke up naked in Tijuana with no pants on Tuesday. Will consider trades for anything really. Make me an offer. Anything considered.

From Chicago:

one Rhett Miller concert ticket (4/20) for a lonely dude/dudette
So, my friend bailed on me after I got him a ticket to go see Rhett with me and now I have one extra ticket I need to get rid of. I'd rather trade it than sell, although I know it's kind of an awkward bargain since it's just one ticket and most people don't like going to shows alone. But... I'm hoping that the fact that alt. country usually attracts lonely, sad bastards that maybe this ticket will find a home before the show on Thursday. Offer me anything. You'll never know what I might like.

I think this one's especially funny because I'm going to see Rhett on Friday in Minneapolis. However, I don't consider myself to be a lonely, sad bastard. Plus, Rhett's solo stuff isn't really so alt-country. I think he's considered alt-pop or some other such nonsense.

Basically, what I've learned from this experience is that I should probably become a licensed massage therapist. Because then you can get a whole boatload (or a real boat) of free things that way, in every city imaginable.

Also, I may or may not be a lonely, sad bastard. Jury's still out.

Taxation without representation, indeed.

2006-04-17T10:47:00.000-07:00

I mailed my taxes out today. At the last possible minute, for very good reason. I had to mail out checks totaling $2,000, so I put it off as long as I could.

To say that I'm not a happy camper would be putting it lightly.

It wouldn't feel so bad, if I knew that the money would be used for things I believed in or used. But I know that the bulk of the federal money will probably go to fund a war (or warS) that I'm morally opposed to. As for my state money, I'm sure that will go to make sure the roads in southern Wisconsin are flawless, while those of us in the northern part of the state will continue to be largely ignored, and have to make do with what we have. "Well, our potholes aren't too big. Yet."

It's frustrating.

And, though I haven't lived in the state of Louisiana since June of 2004, I'm still going to owe them $37 on my 2005 return. I'm beginning to think that the state of Louisiana will never stop fucking me over.

I'm so irritated, that I briefly considered taking what's left of my box of Vanilla Chai Latte mix, walking to the nearby creek and dumping it in, ceremoniously.

But I'm sure nobody would get it.

Then I'd just be poor AND thirsty.

More about baseball...

2006-04-16T16:24:00.000-07:00

And the blatantly hypocritical nature of media nowadays. Always a fun combination.

A Pennsylvania television station in Wilkes-Barre declined to broadcast a minor league baseball game because it was being played on Good Friday.
WNEP-TV, which traditionally televises the home opener of the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre Red Barons, said it wouldn't air Friday night's game against Norfolk at Lackawanna County Stadium.
"Good Friday is not an appropriate day for us to do that," C. Lou Kirchen, the station's president and general manager, said on a recent broadcast.
Instead, the station was to air local news, followed by the tabloid show "Inside Edition," an episode of "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" and then "Primetime," featuring an interview with Tom Cruise.
Good Friday is one of the most solemn days on the Christian calendar, when believers mark the crucifixion of Jesus.

Because what couldn't be MORE appropriate for the most solemn day on the Christian calendar than a tabloid show and Tom "I worship a science fiction author, and in my spare time I brainwash young actresses into bearing my children in the creepiest way possible" Cruise?

So, to review:

Wholesome All-American pastimes=BAD.
Pointless celebrity gossip and Scientology propaganda=GOOD.

So sayeth the Lord.

This will do nothing to help my addiction to Twins baseball, I'm afraid.

2006-04-16T15:33:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went to the best baseball game I have EVER seen.

The Twins' second game of a three-game series at home against the Yankees.

This was a perfect set-up for me, because I have an unhealthy kind of love for the Minnesota Twins, an intense hatred for Steinbrenner and the Yankees, and the Metrodome was packed with over 40,000 people just like me.

Thanks to a poor decision to change pitchers, the game was unneccesarily dramatic. Once the Yankees had a 5-4 lead in the 8th, lots of people started leaving the Dome, trying to beat traffic. Those poor folks missed out on the most amazing 9th inning save. I just keep watching it over and over. I can't believe I was lucky enough to be there to witness it.

Nothing I can say about the game is better than this Mike Bauman piece from MLB.com.

MINNEAPOLIS -- There are individual baseball games that are so rich in detail and unexpected twists and turns, not to mention tension and drama, that they serve to remind you all by themselves why so many of us care about the sport in the first place.
One of those games was played at the Metrodome on Saturday night between the New York Yankees and the Minnesota Twins. The Twins won, 6-5, with a ninth-inning comeback against Mariano Rivera. This in itself would set the game well apart from the norm, but here it was just one part of what made this game special.
Every reasonable expectation was defeated in this game. The Twins were certain to win. No, the Yanks were certain to win. Finally, it was the Twins again.
But you have to set the scene. It's Saturday night and there are 42,316 people in the Dome, or more than three times what the Twins drew Thursday against Oakland. These people are here for the Twins, but they are also here to see the Yankees.
"It's always fun to play the Yankees," Twins manager Ron Gardenhire said. "They bring a certain aura to the ballpark." ...
...So the place is an indoor madhouse, anyway. The Twins have won four straight coming in, they look like contenders once more, and the local population is ready to see its Davids put a hurting on the Bronx Goliaths...
...Santana does not have full command of his changeup or his breaking pitch, and he is, after all, in against the Yankees. The Yanks get two runs back in the fifth, and when Santana allows two baserunners in the seventh, he is pulled for Jesse Crain. The normally reliable Crain gives up three straight hits to the relentless Yankees offense, and by the time this inning is over, New York is up, 5-4....

..."Taking Santana out, that's not one of the favorite things a manager likes to do," Gardenhire said. "But he's basically pitching with a fastball, coming up to the middle of their lineup. And then we come in and give up boom, boom, boom. And then his runs are in and we're behind, and that's a miserable feeling.
"There are ups and downs during the course of any game, but playing those guys over there, it's non-stop from the first inning on, because they're that good of a baseball team and they have that many great players."
And one of the great players is Rivera, the premier closer of this generation. He gets the Yankees out of the eighth with a double-play ball. And then he takes the ball for the ninth. This will be, of course, his 381st save, and he will be just nine away from Dennis Eckersley and fourth place on the all-time list.
But Luis Castillo pounds the ball into the artificial surface just a few feet up the third-base line and legs out an infield single. Joe Mauer follows with a hit-and-run single to left. Castillo beats Hideki Matsui's throw to third, and Mauer moves to second on the throw.
But Rivera takes matters into his own hands again, striking out Rondell White and Torii Hunter. What a save this will be after runners were on second and third with nobody out.
And then on the next offering, first baseman Justin Morneau, his bat broken on the pitch, hits a ball that just barely gets over the outstretched glove of Robinson Cano and into right field. The Twins win. It is not a line drive. It is not a rope. But it is a game-winning hit off Rivera and it beats the Yankees.
"I broke a bat and found a hole," Morneau says with due modesty.
It is not in him to boast about a broken-bat looper, but he understands what this means.
"It's big," Morneau says. "To come back on him, he's one of the best closers in the history of the game, not just right now. He's been in that situation a lot of times and he's usually the one who wins. It was nice to see us shaking hands instead of them shaking hands. I broke a bat and found a hole. Sometimes, that's what you have to do against a guy like that."

It was just a completely unbelievable game to watch. I like the feeling of knowing that a team filled with the best players money can buy can go down to the team from Minnesota once in a while.

And it was nice to see Kirby Puckett's number on the field again too...even posthumously.

Monkeys and Flamingos: Let's just get this over with.

2006-04-12T20:58:00.000-07:00

I've been getting an insane number of random visitors to this blog lately. They find themselves here after googling something about monkeys and flamingos. The keyword searches are all along the lines of "why do monkeys hide in flamingos?" or "why do monkeys hide in flamingos legs?"

I have no idea what this means. But at least a dozen people daily are looking for the answer. They come from different countries, and different IP addresses, but they are all in search of the same thing. It's mind boggling.

It just started recently, within the past 2 weeks. Is this some new dirty joke I don't get or something? Does anybody know what's going on here?

It sounds like a dirty joke to me. I mean, I sincerely doubt that this is some sort of scientific question. If a real monkey ran up to a flock of flamingos and tried to hide in their legs, I'm pretty sure they'd fly away.

I don't think monkeys and flamingos even share a habitat, do they?

But now I find myself obsessing over the question, and its cryptic and elusive meaning. And yes, I even find myself googling variations of the question myself. No doubt just adding to the "flamingos and monkeys" googling epidemic. And the fact that I'm writing a post using these keywords isn't going to help matters, I know.

But maybe if one of you random googlers happens to find this, you'll be kind enough to leave me a comment explaining WHY exactly you're googling that phrase. I need answers. It's killing me.

Or maybe someone else can think of a good, and/or funny, answer to the question and post it here.

My friend Amanda and I think the correct answer is "Because monkeys have no sense of self-awareness."

Flamingo legs are really skinny, and monkeys are not. So, it wouldn't make much sense for the monkeys to try to hide behind them. You'd still totally be able to tell there was a monkey there. Duh.

Stupid monkeys.

Signs of Spring

2006-04-10T18:59:00.000-07:00

Today I saw an old man golfing, wearing a safari hat and overalls.

How awesome is THAT?

Something about pots and kettles....

2006-04-08T07:12:00.000-07:00

I was reading Jeff Gannon's blog. Actually, "reading" isn't quite the right word, as he doesn't technically write anything. Let's just say that my eyes were looking at aggregated links he posts with minimal talent or effort required. Anyhow, my eyes were looking at it because I was bored and felt like posting something before work. So, I googled "Conservative Men Blog" looking for blog-fodder.

Mission Accomplished.

The fact that Gannon's even trying to be a legitimate source of information is amusing to me, beyond belief. Even more amusing is the fact that he thinks people still care. Sorry Jeff, but your scandal is like sooo 2005. We've moved on to bigger and better things. Well....bigger and more terrifyingly awful things, at least.

My very favorite part though, is when Gannon calls Bill Moyer s a "Free Press Phony."

Seriously.

Do you think any part of his brain spoke up with a "Um...maybe not the smartest idea you've had today..."?

Jeff Gannon: "Voice of the New Media." Perhaps more true and scarier than anything else you're going to read today.

Dear Teach For America Googlers

2006-04-07T08:01:00.000-07:00

I get a lot of hits from people randomly searching for the weirdest things. In the past 24-hours, people have been here looking for "why monkeys like to hide between flamingos," "why I hate life," "brokeback mountain dvd wall mart," and "women don't like small penises no matter what.*" But my favorites are the Teach for America Googlers. And it's definitely Teach for America googling season. Young, impressionable idealists all over this country are preparing to join the "illustrious" organization, and are currently googling it to get as much info as possible.

So here's a repost of something that was on the old blog (a cache of which I randomly found again...I thought they were all gone, so that was exciting) specifically for them:

In my previous post, a well-intentioned young man left a comment asking for my opinion about the Teach for America program. He had found a post of mine on Google, and inquired about my offer to prospective TFAers to "kick you in the kidneys to the point of internal bleeding, and poke you with burning sticks," in order to quickly recreate the TFA experience.

I sent him an email, and at the urging of my friend and fellow TFA Survivor, Jen, I shall post the gist of my response here, for future Googlers to find. If I can help even ONE other caring, idealistic soul out there, then my horrible experience will have been worth it.

So, saying that, here it goes:

Dear "Teach for America" Googlers,

I'm writing this in response to questions you may have regarding the reality of the Teach for America experience.

You can probably tell already, but I deeply dislike (one might even say "hate") Teach for America, after my experiences with them. I was assigned to South Louisiana (SLA), and I'm not sure if my experience would have been better had I been placed elsewhere. As it was, I feel that I was misled and out and out lied to by the organization starting immediately with the day of the interview.

To make a long story (and it is a VERY long story) shorter, here's just a short list of my problems with the organization.

Throughout the application, acceptance and training process, I was led to believe that the schools TFAers are placed in are aware of and open to the TFA mission and philosophy. For me, this turned out not to be the case. My school administration was openly hostile to me, and my work was quickly relegated to simply fulfilling the status quo.
I was also led to believe that TFA would provide continued support, training, and encouragement. I understood that it was my responsibility to seek those things out when I needed to. But each time I did that, I was shut down and my problems were ignored until they were too big for the TFA staffers to deal with.
When I joined, I really got the feeling that the TFA staff and administrators truly cared about me as an individual. It didn't take long for me to realize that the corps members are merely a commodity to them, and they will use you up, drain you of everything you have that's of value to them, and then they will leave you hanging.
I stayed in TFA for one year. In that time, the other TFAer at my school was forced to resign from her job. I myself was bullied and psychologically abused by my school administration on a daily basis. All of my regional TFA staff were well aware of this situation. I kept them updated almost daily. And they did nothing to help. They did not lift one finger to make the situation better. I have no doubt that I probably sound like bitter, disgruntled failure. I know, because when I researched the program before joining, that's exactly what I thought of every negative account I read. Feel free to discount any of my complaints. I won't say you definitely shouldn't apply...because sometimes I really do wonder if other regional programs do a better job. But, I will offer a few pieces of advice if you do decide to join up. This is the stuff that TFA won't tell you
They will offer you a loan for relocation. I'm sure you'll need it, but try your best to be frugal and use as little of it as possible. Owing them that debt forces a lot of corps members to stay in very unpleasant situations.

Sign as short of a lease as possible on your housing. You want to be as free as you can be. Don't make too many committments or too many ties you can't break.
Never make the mistake of blindly assuming that what the TFA establishment tells you is in your best interest. You have to be diligent about looking out for your own well being, or they will gladly steamroll right over you. By about my 2nd month in, I realized that in any given situation, my Program Director was bullshitting me (pardon the language....TFA insprires a lot of swearing...) about 99% of the time.

My staffers were so good at using the techniques of manipulation\ and guilt trips, that I figure they must all be trained in it. Don't let them make you feel bad about yourself. Realize that's a standard game that they play with everyone and forget about it. Every corps member I knew spent a lot of time feeling depressed and even suicidal about the whole process. It's not worth it.
If you have any more questions, or want to talk more specifics, you can contact me via email.

I also am in contact with few others who will give you the real deal. Two of them are just finishing up their second year, and are considered "successful" by TFA standards. And you can trust them to tell you the truth about their experiences. I'll be happy to help get you in touch with them.

Thank you for your interest,
Flamingo Jones

Please note that I strictly refuse to link to the Teach for America website, for moral reasons. If you don't know what TFA is, you'll have to Google it for your own damn self.

*I'm not touching this topic with a ten-foot pole. Or a two-foot pole, as it were.

I'm with you in Rockland, where you're madder than I am...

2006-04-05T18:41:00.000-07:00

It's National Poetry month. I'm not sure how I feel about tha t, but here it is, nevertheless.

There was a book published recently celebrating the 50th anniversary of Allen Ginsberg's Howl. It's a lot of reflection on the poem and its social impact. So, I thought I'd offer up my own reflection on the poem here. Because it's my blog, and it's April, and I can.

I can remember specific circumstances surrounding my discovery of lots of literature. I remember stealing a copy of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy from my father. I don't recall where I was when I started reading Catcher in the Rye, but I remember the classroom I was sitting in when I finished it. For some reason, every Vonnegut book has a particular smell my brain has associated with the first time I read them. Whenever I re-read Slaughterhouse Five, I smell oatmeal. Cat's Cradle is sunscreen. There are others, but I won't bore you.

However, I don't have any particular recollection of the first time I read Howl. I wish I did, but it's not to be. I don't even remember what prompted me to pick it up in the first place. It was probably my father talking about the poem. Or talking about Ginsberg himself. They ran in some of the same circles in San Francisco back in the day. No doubt that was the initial inspiration. I also can't remember when I first read it. It was before I turned 16 certainly, but it could have been any time before that. I was always a precocious reader. I do remember the first time I went to City Lights in San Francisco and spoke to Lawrence Ferlinghetti. To commemorate that, I bought a t-shirt there that had an image of the classic cover of Howl on the front, and the words "starving hysterical naked" on the back. Later that year, I wore the shirt to school and was nearly forced to turn it inside-out when someone narked on me for having a shirt that said "naked" on it. Thankfully, I was able to make the math teacher in question feel stupid for not knowing the poem, and she let it go. Another time, I was wearing the shirt in a music store, and an artsy looking guitar player saw it and quoted the first two lines to me. I fell instantly and completely in love with him. And stayed there for nearly a whole ten minutes.

But, as a result of not remembering when or why I first read the poem, it feels like it's just always been a part of me. I can recite the first 4 or 5 paragraphs as easily as breathing. It's been a while, but I can probably still pull out the first 2 or 3 pages with just a little more effort. It's comforting. It hits me every once in a while, and my inner voice rattles away with I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters....

Then I stop at angelheaded hipsters for a while. I love that phrase. I love to say it, I love to hear it, I love to read it, I love to write it. Angelheaded hipsters. It's perfect. There's no other way to describe the way those words make me feel, other than to say they thrill me. I get an actual physical reaction to it. Once that wears off it's back to angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz...

Contemplating jazz is another phrase that makes me indescribably happy to be alive and literate and capable of hearing and seeing and smelling and tasting and feeling and speaking.

And the whole damn poem is full of treasures like that for me. What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination? Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!

Reading or hearing Howl (if you haven't heard a recording of Ginsberg reading Howl himself, you're not a complete person yet) makes me feel the same way you might feel when you see human chromosomes under a serious microscope, or look at a masterpiece up close, or when you watch someone or something take their first breath, or their last. Like it's not all just a coincidence. I'm sure that makes me sound flaky. But I don't much care. Some things are more important to me than looking flaky.

It also makes me wonder what the poem would be like if Ginsberg were in my generation. Madness has gone severely out of style. We're way more into over-medicating.

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by apathy, britney, cougars, depilatories, ego, flame, greed, hurricanes, Intel, jenga, kegs, listerine, magazines, nite clubs, Ohio, players, QVC, righteousness, salvation, tranquilizers, uniforms, velcro, worry, X, Yanni,* take your pick. I'd give my left arm for a little bit of madness.

*zoos and zippers have done no wrong here. move along.

Damn Lies

2006-04-03T23:43:00.000-07:00

I hate fortune cookies sometimes. They're always so painfully optimistic and vague.

You are very wealthy, but you don't know it.
Or they're not even really fortunes at all....just awkwardly phrased less familiar proverbs.

No real excellence can be separated from right living.

They piss me off. Seriously.

I'd like helpful fortune for once. Something like:

You're going to spill Diet Coke all over yourself at dinner tonight. Don't wear white.

Or at least something specific that confirms my suspicions about life:

Yeah, you do kind of suck. Sorry.

Is that so much to ask?

Stupid fortune cookies. Grrr.

Happy Moz Day, Everyone.

2006-04-03T22:01:00.000-07:00

I had a different post planned, but it's going to wait until tomorrow. Or something.

Instead, I'm just going to shamelessly admit how incredibly excited I am that the new Morrissey cd is being released today. Mine is pre-ordered from Amazon, so I am anxiously awaiting the package's arrival tomorrow.

I'm not like a crazy I-love-you-so-much-I-cut-myself kind of Moz fan. I swear. But I do love him. And I might be just the teeniest bit obsessed sometimes. It comes in waves.

Apparently the new cd has a little bit of raunchiness. And as someone who has had any number of pre-pubescent, pubescent and post-pubescent fantasies about the man, this makes me happy. (Trust me. The metaphor of myself yearning for a probably-gay AND celibate man is not lost on me.) Also, according to the SPIN magazine I got today, Morrissey is not so much celibate anymore. He has, admittedly, rediscovered the pleasures of the flesh.

Shouldn't that be news, or something? I mean, if CNN and MSNBC can report the results of American Idol as news without batting an eye, shouldn't THIS make the top story? FAMOUS LONG-TIME CELIBATE GETS ASS.

They should really put me in charge of something important, I think.

You know what?

2006-04-01T22:55:00.000-08:00

I hate Daylight Savings.

The End.

2006-03-30T20:57:00.000-08:00

Ladies, this one's for you.

2006-03-30T18:24:00.000-08:00

Courtesy of my friend Roxanne in Sunny CA:

Random Thoughts

2006-03-30T10:49:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I was driving past Wal-Mart, and I saw a group of people handing out fliers in front of the store. I optimistically thought it might be people protesting the store (I blame a lack of sleep for this naive train of thought). So, being the kind of person I am (the kind of person who likes to randomly introduce herself to other like-minded liberal people on the spur of the moment), I pulled into Wal-Mart and parked my car. I said a quick prayer to Russ Feingold to protect my liberal soul as I took a deep breath and walked up to the gaping jaws of the Beast. (And by "gaping jaws," I obviously mean "automatic doors.") I walked up to the nearest dude and said "Hey, what are you guys doing?" I don't think there is a word in the English language to describe the utter lack of shock I felt when he said:

"Hi! We're handing out Bible verses!"

No shit. OF COURSE you are handing out Bible verses outside of the Wal-Mart. Duh.

In other news, this morning marks the second time in as many days that I have been forced to put my defensive driving skills when I've been cut off by the exact same vehicle....the TV-18 News SUV. Now, I'm sure they're in a hurry or what not, but this is the Chippewa Valley, y'all. News does not break that fast here. Take it easy, and quit cutting me off. Otherwise, I will be forced to call the tip line and report a recklessly driven News SUV wreaking havoc all over town.

I finally got paid again, so I picked up the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs disc this morning. It's all good, but when I was driving along and "Phenomena" started up, it was like a religious experience. Seriously. Someone should make a church based on that....but not like Scientology-creepy.

This kid's damn lucky she doesn't live in South Dakota

2006-03-28T22:03:00.000-08:00

Surgeons remove two fetuses from infant

ISLAMABAD, Pakistan - Surgeons operated on a 2-month-old Pakistani girl Tuesday to remove two fetuses that had grown inside her while she was still in her mother's womb, a doctor said...

...Abbasi, the chief doctor who led the operation, said the case was the first he was aware of in Pakistan of fetus-in-fetu, where a fetus has grown inside another in the womb.

"It is extremely rare to have two fetuses being discovered inside another," Abbasi told The Associated Press, adding that he did not know what caused the medical abnormality. "Basically, it's a case of triplets, but two of the siblings grew in the other."

So, I don't post for weeks at a time and now you get two posts in one night...but this was just too good to pass up a quick and cheap South Dakota joke.

It's feast or famine around here, kiddies. Binge while you can.

Please excuse me while I gouge my eyes out.

2006-03-28T20:10:00.000-08:00

I've seen a lot of awful things in my life, and there's been a lot of it that's made me want to curl up in the fetal position and cry for my mommy. But nothing I've ever seen has made me wish I had never been born quite as much as THIS (so, naturally, I had to share it with you):

Yes. That is pop princess Britney Spears depicted naked on a bear skin rug, giving birth to her son. It's called "Monument to Pro-Life: The Birth of Sean Preston." It's going on display at a Brooklyn museum alongside other anti-abortion themed pieces.

That's ironic, because I think that Britney Spears' ability to procreate could possibly make her a poster-child for the pro-choice movement.

I'm not going to sleep well tonight, I can tell.

Marketing strategy gone awry

2006-03-27T08:33:00.000-08:00

Universal Studios Home Video sent me an email to remind me that Brokeback Mountain comes out on DVD on April 4th. In celebration of that, they've created some special Brokeback Mountain e-cards.

From Jack to Ennis and back again. The story of Brokeback is told through the simple exchange of postcards. Explore clips from the DVD with this series of Brokeback Mountain e-postcards. Then tell your own story by sending a personalized postcard to your friend or lover.

Now, it's a good movie and all....but I'm finding a hard time trying to think of any message I would like to convey to a friend or lover using a Brokeback Mountain e-postcard. I don't care if you're straight or gay, cowboy or not...there just are not many appropriate things to say on a Brokeback Mountain card.

For instance, one card is the clip of Heath Ledger saying "If this thing grabs ahold of us again, in the wrong time, or in the wrong place, we're dead."

Lovely. Who wouldn't want that in their inbox?

What could you possibly write on that that wouldn't freak the recipient out completely?

I guess a gay man or lesbian could write to their partner:

"You know, maybe someday the government will recognize us as human beings deserving of equal rights. But until then, I guess we can be happy we're not being beaten to death by rednecks. Yet."

There really are a variety of inappropriate things one could use Brokeback Mountain e-cards for, I guess.

Dear Mom, Guess what......
Honey, I'm going fishing with my friend Pete this weekend. Don't wait up.
Dear President Bush, If this thing grabs ahold of us again in the wrong time, or in the wrong place, we're dead. And then we'll burn in hell for an eternity. I wish I knew how to quit you. XOXO, James "Dobby" Dobson
Happy Birthday!
Dear Heath, Congrats on your Oscar win. Oh.....wait. Nevermind. Love, Jake.
Dear Jake, Congrats on your Oscar win....oh...you neither, huh? Love, Heath
Dear Academy, Fuck you. Sincerely, Annie Proulx.
Dear Jim, Congrats on the new baby. Jane and I are finally getting settled into our new house and I love it; the walk-in closets are to die for. Yours always, Frank.

So, yeah....I don't think they thought this marketing strategy through the whole way.

But that's ok.

It kept me entertained for nearly 10 minutes. Can't beat that.

2006-03-25T21:09:00.000-08:00

Is the internet broken or something?

2006-03-20T09:56:00.000-08:00

So, all weekend, there's been kind of a dull hush over all things bloggy and internet-y. Or maybe it's just me. I don't know. I went two whole days without more than maybe 2 emails....not even any spam or newsletters or coupons or anything. Myspace has been completely dead. I didn't even get any aNnOyInG, mispelld, bulletin posts from people I don't actually know. It's weird.

It makes me feel like there's something I was supposed to be doing. Like there was some sort of internet party and my invite got lost in the mail. Or there was a boycott nobody told me about. There isn't a boycott nobody told me about, is there? I know about Walmart, and South Dakota....but if there's an internet boycott going on, will someone please break it? ....just to let me know so I can jump on the bandwagon too

Eavesdropping can be fun

2006-03-19T07:32:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I was at an art/craft supply store and overheard the following conversation between a mother and her crabby sour pre-teen daughter (aren't they calling them "tweens" now or something stupid like that?) They were kind of loud about it, and I was so intrigued it took a lot of will power to keep myself from walking over to them and getting all up in their business to get the backstory. In lieu of that, I jotted the whole thing down as soon as I could, because I find it mildly entertaining.

Mother: I'm looking for something that reminds me of Hawaii.

Crabby Sour Tween Daughter: *muffled grumbles*

Mother: (ignoring the obvious grumbly unhappiness of The Tween) Look for something that reminds you of Hawaii for Grandpa's scrapbook. Pineapples or something.

Crabby Sour Tween Daughter: There's nothing!

Mother: Oh come on. Stop being like that. Help me look.

Crabby Sour Tween Daughter: I'm not being like that. There's NOTHING here.....Oh wait. Here's one. (hands mother something I couldn't quite make out from a distance)

Mother: (sounding slightly horrified) What does THAT have to do with Hawaii!?

Crabby Sour Tween Daughter: You know. Don't you remember the despair?

Mother: Uh...I really don't think that's what we want Grandpa to remember in his scrapbook.

Crabby Sour Tween Daughter: Why not? It's the truth.

Mother: (suddenly aware of their very loud conversation in a public place and therefore trying to sound overly sweet and loving) Well, we want something to make Grandpa remember how much we love him, right? I really think that's what Grandpa would like to remember too.

Crabby Sour Tween Daughter: Whatever. (pronounced eyeroll)

When the girl broke out "Don't you remember the despair" I almost died trying to keep from laughing. I really wish I knew what the hell they were talking about. It'd make a great story.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2006-03-17T10:37:00.000-08:00

This IS my favorite holiday of the year. Hands down. I just finished up my annual meal of Irish Boiled Dinner. It's my favorite meal of the year as well. Thanksgiving's got nothing on boiled cabbage, potatoes, rutabagas and carrots. I could eat this every day, I think. Except, my mom's in charge of making it and not being Irish at all, she doesn't really see the appeal. She freely admits she's happy St. Patrick's Day comes but once a year. Her loss. I think it's heaven in a bowl.

The day isn't about the drinking for me. I'm not a heavy drinker, so that's not my priority. It's all about celebrating my blood. Which doesn't happen often in my family. My father's father was and Irishman, but when he and my grandmother divorced, he and his genetic code became persona non grata. My dad was adopted by grandma's second husband, hence our Swedish surname and my acquired affection for lefse.

So, I don't have the Irish name I should. Which is a shame. But I do have the fair and freckled complexion. And an unholy love of potatoes and cabbage. And an inexplicable spiritual stirring of my soul when I hear "Danny Boy". And my hazel eyes shine green whenever I wear the color.

So, I think today is my day. And I love it.

Vacation mindset

2006-03-16T18:12:00.000-08:00

So, you know how everyone has that little voice inside their head telling them wrong from right? Well, I've been finishing up going through all of the bags of vacation purchases I made, and I realize that I have TWO such voices. One called Everyday Common Sense Flamingo, and one called Vacation Logic Flamingo. The two voices gave strikingly different advice in various shopping situations....and while I was in California, Vacation Logic Flamingo won out, time and time again.

Some cases in point:

Me: "Should I spend $2.99 apiece on these crappy cheap keychains of miniature surfboards painted with pictures of dolphins?"

Everyday Common Sense Flamingo: "Are you kidding me!? Seriously...there is a limit to how many keychains one person needs/can use. Plus, they're a total rip-off. I could whittle something nicer than that."

Vacation Logic Flamingo: "Are you kidding me!? Dolphins AND surfboards in ONE handy souvenir? Those are your two favorite things. How can you possibly pass that up? Look at how cute and miniature they are!"

Result: I own TWO such keychains now. PLUS a tiny toy Volkswagen bug, painted lime green, with a tiny miniature suitcase in the backseat and a dolphin surfboard hot-glued to the roof.

Me: "Look at all of these cute little slogan buttons here at Hot Topic. But they are $1.75 each! Should I get some?"

Everyday Common Sense Flamingo: "For christ's sake. $1.75 for that little piece of plastic and metal? No way. Plus, you have a Hot Topic at home. You could buy these any time. Save your money for something better."

Vacation Logic Flamingo: "Awww. This one says "Actually Guns DO Kill People." And this one says "Note to self: I'm rad!" and THIS one says "Friend Request DENIED!" Those are all too good. How can you not get these? Plus the "I was programmed to be this awesome" one has a picture of a cute cartoon robot. And it's gray, so it will totally look cute pinned to the $48 FIDM hoodie you bought at the place where you saw Joaquin's pants and that you now refuse to stop wearing because you think it makes you 'feel closer to Joaquin.'"*

Everyday Common Sense Flamingo: "Do you even WEAR buttons??"

Vacation Logic Flamingo: "You can start. Buy them. Buy them ALL! Mwah ha ha ha!"

Result: I spent $15 on buttons at Hot Topic. I currently have the "awesome robot" one pinned to my FIDM hoodie. Which I am wearing. Because it DOES make me feel closer to Joaquin. I have not yet worn any of the other buttons.

Me: "Should I buy this $2 tequila flavored sucker with a real worm inside of it?"

Everyday Common Sense Flamingo: "Um....NO. The only way you even LIKE tequila is if you slam a shot really fast and pretend not to taste it. What does this even have to do with California? You are never going to use this. Plus, worms are gross. Especially in suckers."

Vacation Logic Flamingo: "Dude, the second ingredient on the label is "Natural Insect Larva!" You SO need this. How can you not own a food product that has "Insect Larva" on the ingredient list?"

Result:

This is mine now.

Other inexplicable things I now own, thanks in huge part to Vacation Logic Flamingo: a picture of Richard Gere looking goofy in latex gloves, a t-shirt that says "Fame and fortune are around the corner" and comes packaged in a cute little Chinese take-out box**, roughly 27 postcards, a very special rubber ducky, and a lanyard that says "I [heart] California" over and over, but at one point it says "Jesus" for no reason...so I interpret it as "JESUS, I love California!" and it makes me laugh.

So, I kind of love Vacation Logic Flamingo. I'm going to miss her. I'll just have to plan vacations more frequently I guess.

*This is not an example in and of itself simply because Every Day Common Sense Flamingo also thought this was a great idea.

**This one wasn't entirely Vacation Logic Flamingo's fault. I also used the purchase of the shirt to validate parking.

You know you're in Wisconsin when....

2006-03-14T21:07:00.000-08:00

...You go to the grocery store, and you find a TWO-HUNDRED DOLLAR BLOCK OF CHEESE.

43 lbs of sharp cheddar, baby.

It was gigantic and really hard to pick up.

Of course I picked it up.

Who can resist trying to pick up a $200 hunk of cheddar cheese if given the opportunity? I'm only human.

I know, I know. I'm a lazy blogger.

2006-03-14T07:43:00.000-08:00

It's just that I got back from vacation, and, well...I still sort of want to be on vacation. I go to work, because I have to. But I haven't watched the news. I only visit news websites once a day and limit the number of story links I click on. It's very unlike me. Typically I have kind of an addiction to information, if that's a real thing. But not at the moment. It's weird.

I have been reading a good book. Devil in the Details by Jennifer Traig. It's a memoir. The first memoir I've read since the Frey fiasco, and it was a good way to get back in the saddle. I like it. She writes about the variety of forms her Obsessive-Compulsive disorder took as she was growing up, including bizarre religious behaviors. One of my favorite parts comes in her "Beauty Tips for Fastidious Girls" interstitial:

Skin Feeling a little chapped but worried your whole family will die if you use a commercial moisturizer? Not to worry--there's an alternative. Just reach for a nice, hygienic, hermetically sealed bottle of salad oil. It's the moisturizer the biblical matriarchs used! Anoint yourself, for you are the chosen, it's you it's you please don't let them die. Now, doesn't that feel better?

I think that's funny.

Flamingo Fun Time: Draws to a close

2006-03-08T00:58:00.000-08:00

Flamingo Fun Time: Yay for surfers. AND dolphins.

2006-03-06T18:17:00.000-08:00

A random surfer doing tricks for my amusement.

Flamingo Fun Time: "So...Fish Tacos are totally gross."

2006-03-05T14:21:00.000-08:00

The infamous Fish Taco

Flamingo Fun Time: In California you can have a life AND top-shelf TV

2006-03-04T23:18:00.000-08:00

Here we are at Buffy's school.

I'm still alive.

2006-03-04T14:02:00.000-08:00

So, I totally tried audioblogging yesterday, but I got a message that the system was down. Ugh.

Anyway, I wanted to audioblog because yesterday was, quite possibly, the greatest day of my life. I don't want to waste precious vacation time typing, but I have a brief interlude of internet access at the lovely Chapman university in Orange, CA.

Things that made yesterday so awesome I can barely stand it:

Touching the red carpet at the Kodak Theater. (and keeping a stray carpet fiber as a souvenir)
Watching Oscar preparations throughout the day.
Holding a real Oscar. (Yes, it's totally heavy.)
Meeting real Oscar nominees. (not famous ones, but I don't care. Sound editing is important too.)
Being within INCHES of THREE different pairs of Joaquin Phoenix's PANTS. Plus, Brad Pitt's pants, Christian Bales' Batsuit, Natalie Portman's Star Wars dresses, etc. Fabulous. Not reaching out and touching Joaquin's pants took the single most amount of will power I have ever had to muster up. Plus, they were they only costumes NOT behind glass, as if to taunt me.
Lebowski Fest '06 Pre-party. This was heaven for me. The Knitting Factory was chock full of people just like me who like the same random ridiculous things. There will be a more detailed post on this when I return home and get my pictures uploaded. The Ferris Bueller secretary was there. She was playing the washboard. It was like magic.

ciao for now. We're off to hunt down locations for the Buffy tv series.

Vacation...all I ever wanted.

2006-03-01T22:27:00.000-08:00

So, I leave for California in the morning. Bright and early. And I'm still awake now, because I'm not finished with half the things that need finishing yet. And still I procrastinate doing THIS instead of all the other stuff. But I thought it was important to remind everyone that I'm not dead. But I'm close.

Yesterday I got horribly sick. This was not super surprising, as it was sort of my birthday yesterday, and I get sick every year on my birthday. But this is especially bad, because it's a head-cold. I've flown with a cold before, and it was some of the worst pain I've ever felt. Seriously. It was like someone was stabbing me in my sinuses slowly and repeatedly with a serrated steak knife. Or something like that. I remember actually briefly considered calling a flight attendant over, informing her that I was dying and asking her to tell my parents that I loved them. Bad stuff.

But the trip is bought and paid for, and between all of my jobs, I have a very limited window of opportunity in which to make like a Go-Go and "get away." So, I've spent the past two days desperately self-medicating. I'm trying everything. Flamingo Fun Time should not be thwarted. Wish me luck. And wish me non-perforated eardrums upon landing, hopefully.

Anyhow, I'll try to throw some audioblogging at you while I'm out there. Don't throw any wild parties while I'm gone.

Congratu-fucking-lations.

2006-02-25T23:52:00.000-08:00

Sounds cynical. I know. But I just got done working a 14 hour shift, and I'm a wee bit cranky. Sue me.

This morning I woke up to a text message from my last single college friend, announcing that she had gotten engaged on the beach in Florida the previous night. What the hell she was doing in Florida, I don't know. But the idea that her Republican boyfriend flew them there specifically for the purpose of engagement is not entirely out of the question.

Now, all of my college friends are currently sort of annoying and pissing me off, so I've been limiting my interaction with them. And I'm basically of the opinion that they all decided to get married simply to make me buy them presents or give them money. Which annoys and pisses me off even further. So, my first instinct was to completely ignore the announcement, and never acknowledge it at all. I'm really good at that. Not to return any text messages. To hit "Ignore" on my cell phone when her number pops up on caller ID. Erase any and all voicemails unheard. Accidentally on purpose forget to even return my RSVP. Be conveniently busy for all shower/ bachelorette party/wedding dates. And under NO circumstances purchase a present or write a check to them.

But then I got to thinking....and I had a simple, yet brilliant, thought.

I WILL acknowledge the announcement. And I will write a check.

To charity.

I will make a charitable donation in their names, and that shall be my wedding gift to them.

My reasons are three-fold:

1) I like to give to charity, and this is a great excuse to do so.

2) Being as THEY are republican (and kind of cheap), I can almost guarantee that this will be the ONLY donation EVER made to charity in their names. (I do not count the NRA or RNC as charitable organizations)

3.) Knowing them, this will piss them off. It will piss them off REALLY bad. Like, won't-talk-to-me-anymore pissed off. And the thought that someone would get so blindingly pissed off because one of their friends gave money to help starving children in third world countries, instead of giving them cash they can spend on being materialistic, intrigues me. It's almost like a test (granted, one I'm almost certain they'll fail) to see what they're really made of.

I haven't decided on whether I'll deliver the card and donation notice to them in person at the wedding, or not. I hate weddings. They freak me out. But, this one may be worth it. We'll see.

Friday Random Ten

2006-02-24T08:43:00.000-08:00

The "Still Sort of on the Soapbox" Edition

1. Mercury--The Clarks
2. Let the Idiot Speak--The Old 97's
3. Why Can't This Be Love --The Molly Ringwalds (live at the Varsity)
4. We Will Become Silhouettes--The Shins
5. Broken--Ellis
6. Get Yourself Together--Tahiti 80
7. Should I Stay or Should I Go--Gene Serene
8. Wildwood Flower--Reese Witherspoon
9. The Weight of the World--Her Space Holiday
10. Mean Man--The Detroit Cobras

And "Mean Man" is very fitting and makes me think of the Governor of South Dakota, Mike Rounds.

Mike Rounds has this to say about South Dakota:

In every decision we make and in every policy we develop, we are committed to protecting those who cannot protect themselves... the very young and the very old. We will protect our communities from those who wish to do us harm; and we will provide our children with a quality education, because they are our future. We will work every day to make South Dakota a model of diversity, excellence and creativity for the rest of the country to emulate.

We look forward to working with communities, large and small, to energize ideas for economic development, tourism and the quality of life issues that make this the greatest state in the nation.

We hope you'll join us on this journey as we write a new chapter in South Dakota's history. Working together, we'll make South Dakota an even better place to live.

Hmm. That somehow just doesn't ring true for me.

Mike Rounds can be contacted:

Gov. Mike Rounds
State Capitol
500 E. Capitol Ave.
Pierre, SD 57501
605-773-3212
http://www.state.sd.us/governor

Misogyny: Variations on a Theme

2006-02-23T21:20:00.000-08:00

I actually had a really lengthy post all ready to go earlier this week, until blogger ate it. So, bits of this were actually part of that, reincarnated.

Another Skeezy Frey Guy

The Frey in question is being charged for attempting to kidnap his own wife. However, this should have come as no surprise to anyone involved, when you take a look at the creepy-as-hell marriage contract he had drawn up for his lucky lady. This is one sick and crazy mofo, I tell ya. You'll have to follow that link to read the whole thing, because there's very little of it I'm comfortable re-posting here.

MY TIME

Whenever we are at home and alone as a family, from when you are to be naked until 12:00am, or for three hours, which ever is later, will be My Time. This time will be time you will devout [sic] soley [sic again] to me, whereas you will be in my service to do anything and everything I want, which may be or may not be sexual in manner [sick]...

It gets a lot worse than that. And as sick as he is, I'm most worried about what kind of a woman ties up with this guy? Whoever she is, I just want to shake some self-esteem into her.

Moving on.

A Half-Baked Idea from the Man Who Brought Us Domino's Pizza

Tom Monaghan, founder of Domino's Pizza, is using his vast wealth and influence to build his own Catholic-themed city, apparently for the main purpose of being able to ban the future city's pharmacists from providing contraceptives to women. He has enough money to buy and sell just about anyone or anything, and he wants to use that power to nix birth-control. Please. Can't you come up with something better than THAT? I mean, if I was going to build my own city for the sole purpose of micromanaging the lives of others, I'd make it worth my while. Honestly, Pseudo-Christian Misogyny is soooo passe nowadays.

Think of the possibilities: Hop-to-Work-or-Go-to-Jail Wednesdays. 3 Lawn Flamingos Minimums. Daily Sno-Cone and Nap breaks. AND, thanks to mandatory dress-codes, I could single-handedly revive the HyperColor phenomenon.

But no. He's going in a different direction. Small-potatoes misogynists draw up crazy controlling marriage contracts. Pizza mogul misogynists just build their own cities.

Next.

South Dakota Makes Flamingo's Head Explode

And yesterday, South Dakota's Senate passed a bill banning abortion. BANNING abortion. They threw the women a bone, and included a measure to allow an abortion if the mother's life is at stake. But if you get pregnant from rape or incest, you're out of luck. THAT amendment failed 21-14. Maybe that will teach you not to dress so trashy, you little hussy.

Seriously, this blows my mind. And the part of the story than eradicates the meatiest chunks of my brain is the fact that the sponsor of the bill is a woman who happens to be a Democrat.

The bill will no doubt be signed into law by the Republican Governor. As soon as that happens, the court battles regarding the law's constitutionality will begin. The ultimate goal (I mean besides controlling women and their bodies)? Force the case to the U.S. Supreme Court, and let Bush's court take on the Roe v. Wade decision.

That's a scary thought.

I don't like abortion. Nobody does. I agree with the Clinton mantra of "Rare, Safe and Legal." And I believe that a majority of Americans feel that way, deep down.

And the thing is, I do not believe that ending abortion is the big picture here. If ending abortion were all this was about, you would see these same groups of activists and politicians doing something about the social pressures that are the root cause of increased need for abortions.

You would see them doing something about the poverty/homeless/jobless rates.
You would not see them fighting sex education in schools.
You would see them advocating self-esteem and empowerment courses for girls and young women, so they understand that they are their own people, and they do not have to hand over either their bodies or their decision-making capabilities to the first creep who hands them a marriage contract.
You would NOT see them building cities for the express purpose of eliminating birth-control.

If this were all about protecting babies and giving all children an equal chance at life, they would be fighting for pre-natal care for all mothers, regardless of income, and free health and dental care for all children, no matter what tax bracket they're born into.
They would be fighting for equal rights for all those babies who are born female, or with a skin color other than lilly-white, or (god-forbid) gay.
They would be fighting to protect the environment that these children are being born into.

But that's not what they're fighting for. They are fighting for the legal ability to tell a woman what she can and cannot do with her body. That's what all of these things boil down to. Whether it's the creep dictating how much pubic hair his wife is allowed to have, or Tom Monaghan salivating at the thought of mandating what prescriptions women may fill at the pharmacy, or the Great State of South Dakota itching to deny women who have been raped the ability to make the most intimate, personal and grave decision of all, it all comes back to exerting control over women.

For what? Is it a turn-on? Does it make the men feel more powerful and manly? Does it make them feel closer to God, or Heaven, or immortality? Does it compensate for small penises? What? I seriously would like to know. I think they owe us that much. If I'm going to live my life in a world like this, at least tell me why.

And I don't even know where to begin with questions for Julie Bartling, sponsor of the South Dakota bill. Does she think this will win her a spot at their table? It won't. In the morning, she's still going to be a woman. Welcome to the club.

If anyone can make sense of it all, let me know.

2006-02-19T12:24:00.000-08:00

Oil Slick

2006-02-18T13:33:00.001-08:00

You know, people used to talk about Bill Clinton and call him "slick" because he could get out of any number of scrapes using his charm.

True enough...but then what do you say about THIS administration?

Dick "Go Fuck Yourself" Cheney shoots a guy in the face...

and the victim says HE's sorry for the trouble he's caused Cheney.

Holy crap. Just think about that one for a minute.

And Cheney's not even charming.
or attractive.
or a saxophone player.
or pleasant in the least, really.

What gives?

Random Ten

2006-02-18T11:05:00.000-08:00

The "Day Late, Dollar Short" Edition

1. Woman Like a Man (Live, Unplugged)--Damien Rice
2. Tornadoes--Drive-By Truckers
3. Bruised--The Bens
4. Tigers Above, Tigers Below--Ellis
5. Somewhere in Ohio--The Jayhawks
6. Drunk Medicine--Sons & Daughters
7. Mean Man--The Detroit Cobras
8. Multitude of Casualties--The Hold Steady
9. Down and Out--Suffrajett
10. Bent--Viva Voce

I think I need a new weekend posting ritual....I'm getting bored with just Friday (or Saturday) random music lists. Maybe I'll take random photographs or something. Suggestions are welcome. A photo scavenger hunt would be fun....but someone'd have to give me a list of things to take pictures of.

Random thought

2006-02-15T13:09:00.000-08:00

Special Edition Chocolate Lucky Charms cereal is SO good that it should just be called Regular Lucky Charms cereal, and the other stuff should be "Special Edition Not Chocolate Lucky Charms" cereal.

That is all.

A last-minute Valentine's Day thought...

2006-02-14T21:49:00.000-08:00

Seeing as how there are 11 minutes left of this "holiday," and as how I just rewatched Lord of War tonight, I thought it would be fitting to reiterate the fact that:

Diamonds are evil.

And they're not OK, even if you get one of those "This particular diamond didn't buy guns or result in some kid losing an arm" certificates. You're still creating a demand for the vile things, and it's that perpetual demand that ensures a continued market. Not to mention the fact that we've created an entire society where girls are raised to measure their own self-worth in carats. Barf.

So, that's that. I don't really have anything else to say. Just felt like posting something, and that seemed to do the trick.

Insert Cliche Regarding Laughter and Medicine Here

2006-02-09T23:09:00.000-08:00

The weather here sucked tonight, and made the roads horrible to drive on. Do you know WHY the weather here sucked and made the roads horrible to drive on?

Because I had tickets to see Maria Bamford in Minneapolis tonight. And Maria Bamford makes me happy. And when things make me happy, the Universe has a funny way of doing its best to completely screw with that.

And yet, I risked life and limb on icy roadways, and went anyway. Why?

Because I had tickets to see MARIA BAMFORD, dammit. And Maria Bamford makes me happy. And when the Universe tries to thwart that, I have a funny way of blindly ignoring that fact, even when it presents great potential harm to myself.

Driving there sucked so bad, and was so stressful, that I got a gigantic head-ache. To compensate, I kinda sorta overdid it on Excedrin and made myself sick to my stomach.

No matter, though. I had front row seats, and spent an evening a mere 3 feet from Ms. Bamford. She is so brilliant, it's unbelievable. I really feel that she's the most talented female comic touring right now. And she's a native Mid-Westerner. Go figure.

Anyway, I laughed very hard and very long. And that was good. And it was also good to be around other people laughing just as hard. It made me happy.

Suck on THAT, Universe.

2006 is right on track

2006-02-07T10:21:00.000-08:00

to be even worse than 2005.

And it's only February.

I can't talk about this too much, because:
a)Confidentiality
b)Minimal details are being released to the public
c)It makes me cry to even think about it

but, a child where I work committed suicide yesterday. I knew him, and I had recently worked with him.

I don't even know what to say about it, other than the fact that what I felt when I found out was singularly the worst feeling I have ever had in my life.

Sorry I haven't blogged in a while....and then when I do, it's THIS. But there it is.

Truth is stranger than fiction.

2006-02-01T09:51:00.000-08:00

I get to tour Marine One, the President's helicopter, today. A relative of mine is a pilot for Marine One, and has been since Clinton was in office. He and the helicopter are in Minneapolis today, so the family got an invite to have a little looksee.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't stoked about it.

The most amusing part, to me, are the people going: There's me...and well, you know how I am. There's my uncle, who works for the Democrats in the Minnesota legislature. There's his wife, who was born and raised in Iran. My grandmother's pretty liberal as well. We're about the most unlikely group of people to set foot in Dubya's Presidential Transportation. I have a feeling I'm going to be giggling to myself a lot.

Cameras are allowed....so I'll have some pictures later, most likely.

A retraction of my own.

2006-01-30T10:53:00.000-08:00

A while ago, I said here that I didn't care too awfully much about James Frey's dishonest memoir "Million Little Pieces," and that I was more upset that the form of the book was the most obnoxious thing I've read since "He's Just Not That Into You."

I lied.

I think James Frey is a weasel. And now I need to post about it again. Why? Because all the cool kids are doing it.

I don't know if I would have hated the book as much as I do if I had read it before I knew about the lies. Probably. But the lying really makes it worse. At first it was just annoying. Then I got PISSED. I can pinpoint the exact moment that the change occurred.

About a famous recovering rockstar who lectured about his history:

"...After a while, after far too long a while, he talks about drinking and drugs. When he talks of heroin, he taps the bend of his elbow with two fingers, when he talks of coke he sniffs, booze he makes a motion like he has a bottle, pills as if he's tossing them in. He claims that at the height of his use he would do five thousand dollars of cocaine and heroin a day mixed with four to five fifths of booze a night and up to forty pills of Valium to sleep. He says this with complete sincerity and with the utmost seriousness.
I am tired and I am spent. I am nervous and I am happy. I am calm. Were I in my normal frame of mind, I would stand up, point my finger, scream Fraud, and chase this Chump Motherfucker down and give him a beating. Were I in my normal frame of mind, after I gave him his beating, I would make him come back here and apologize to everyone for wasting their precious time. After the apology, I would tell him that if I ever heard of him spewing his bullshit fantasies in Public again, I would cut off his precious hair, scar his precious lips, and take all of his goddamn gold records and shove them straight up his ass.
I don't like this man. I don't like what he has to say or how he's saying it. I don't believe him and his Rock Star status isn't enough to make me buy the shit he's trying to sell. Four to five thousand dollars is enough to kill a Person several times over....
There is no excitement, no glamour, no fun. There are no good times, there is no joy, there is no happiness. There is no future and no escape. There is only an obsession. An all-encompassing, fully enveloping, completely overwhelming obsession. To make light of it, brag about it, or revel in the mock glory of it is not in any way, shape or form related to its truth, and that is all that matters, the truth. That this man is standing in front of me and everyone else in this room lying to us is heresy. The truth is all that matters. This is fucking heresy."

And it doesn't stop here. Throughout the book, Frey makes sure we all know how important the Truth is to him. James, apparently, doesn't like Liars.

About someone in treatment who exaggerates and lies about his bad deeds:

"He is telling a story about some Mobsters he knows in Brooklyn, claiming that he manages their money through investments in the Stock Market and they get him drugs and women and whatever else he wants. When he talks of amounts of drugs, Matty laughs and says he should have asked for more. Bobby then corrects himself and says that he actually did get more. When he talks of women, Ed tells him that four at a time isn't that big of a deal and Bobby says the next time that he had eight...
Eventually, I get tired of Bobby and his bullshit and I snicker at a comment he makes about the amount of money he earns, which he claims to be in the millions each year. He stops talking and he stares at me and he asks me what the fuck I think is so funny. I stare back and I tell him that I find his lies amusing...
Bobby, like all Liars confronted, is instantly defensive and instantly mad."

About a TV show depicting a drug addict:

"She is a beautiful young woman whose body is absent of any bruises, scars or track marks. She wears dirty clothes that are ragged in a glamorous way. She cries whenever anyone talks to her and there are large, black bags under her eyes, though her crying is obviously fake and the bags under her eyes are a different size each time we see her...."

Needless to say, James doesn't like that particular program. He goes on to describe in great detail what he would do to punish the people in that program for being liars.

So, yeah. I think James Frey is a weasel who has made a huge profit off of being a liar. And a hypocrite. I don't have time for that.