Times Are Tough

I have a cold or something. All I know is that I can't stop sneezing and that I'm exhausted. Therefore, my duties today will consist of just trying to make you angry. And it won't be hard and won't require a lot of effort on my part. That's because I'm going with a clip of a one Amanda Clayton. Amanda resides in Michigan. She played the lottery last fall and she won! How fortunate! Congratulations, Amanda! Oh, but wait. Your happiness for her (what little shred there was, if any) is about to flutter away when I tell you that she is still getting AND using food stamps. She won a million freaking dollars! Oh, but get this: She justifies her still using food stamps because (wait for it) she isn't working right now. Oh, no! Poor thing! Did I mention that she used some of her windfall to buy at least one house? Yeah, she has two houses (and she makes that point known), so you know...times are tough! More on this tomorrow, but for now, what say you get yourself good and agitated by watching this. If it doesn't load, please click here.

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That Was Quick

Remember how yesterday I told you about how a bunch of paparazzi mistook the delightful 66-year old Deborah Harry for the allegedly 25-year old Lindsay Lohan? Well, in a startling development, Lindsay was seen today sporting red hair once again. Behold!

I guess having a 66-year old woman mistaken for you is enough to mix up the ol' physical appearance just a bit, eh? It's awesome, just awesome, that she did this so soon. Man, if only she had done things differently in regard to her legal troubles with as much efficiency as changing her hair color. Things might have gone a little bit easier for ol' LiLo. Who am I kidding? She's a train wreck no matter what color her hair is.

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Miss Lohan! Oh. Sorry.

As far as Lindsay Lohan related news, today was just the best day ever. The New York Post had the story of the day (if there was such a thing) regarding Ms. Lohan. Do you know who Deborah Harry is? She was (is?) the singer for the group, Blondie. Yeah, she's 66. Still pretty hot, but regardless, sixty-six. Anyway, she was coming out of some hotel the other day and was swarmed by photographers. This is Deborah Harry, behold!

She looks pretty good there. But wait. Why so many photographers around Deborah Harry? A lot of it (and by that, I mean all of it) had to do with the photographers not thinking that she was Deborah Harry. Yeah, they thought that she was Lindsay Lohan. Awesome. Behold!

Yeah, I'm not so sure what it's saying if a 66-year old woman is being mistaken for a 25-year old chick. It could say that the 66-year old looks particularly good. (And don't get me wrong. She does.) But let's all be honest. Lindsay Lohan isn't looking great. She looks like she's at least 45. (I kind of imagine that if the photographer could explain this from his perspective he'd say how bad he felt. "I couldn't apologize enough. She certainly didn't appear as old as Lindsay when I got closer.") The hair color and what I have to assume to be collagen injections in her cheeks aren't doing her any favors. Unless the goal is to look so much like a 66-year old that said 66-year old gets mistaken for you. And really, I know this isn't much, but things like this really do make my day.

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Hey, Hey, He Was A Monkee

Davy Jones of The Monkees died last week. I know, I know. First Whitney Houston and then Davy Jones. The world of music has gone silent. I don't know how the world made it through. But we did. And then things started getting weird. And by 'weird', I mean that suddenly people started acting like Davy Jones and/or The Monkees were some wildly popular act that has been entertaining the masses non-stop for decades. It wasn't like that. Was it?


According to The Daily Mail, "The 66-year-old singer passed away from a heart attack last weekand while his bandmates are upset, they have agreed to stay away from him burial as Davy's family want a 'low-key- send-off ." Uhhh...OK? Wouldn't it already be low key? I mean, this is Davy Jones. And not the one with the locker, either! (Now THAT might be something!) Sure, we all swooned when he was on the Brady Bunch and we were all thrilled for Marcia that he actually performed at her prom. But we're done now. Really. I'm sorry the great man has passed, but that's about it.


The article goes on to say that "...drummer Micky Dolenz told Billboard: "My understanding is they want to avoid a media circus and the family wants to keep it very, very low-key and very, very private." OK, wait. What is going on here?! Media circus?! Over Davy Jones?! Am I missing something?! I'm just not seeing major media outlets clamoring to cover this. Again, my condolences, but this is just silly.


But wait! There's more! "And you can imagine as soon as one of two or any of us were to show up, it would very quickly be degraded into something that I don't think his immediate family would want to deal with that." OK, now I know this is a joke! Will someone please tell Micky Dolenz what year it is, please? This show went off the air in 1970. That's forty-one years ago! Yes, I realize that they had some hits. Yes, I realize that they sold over 65 million albums. (And while I realize that, I'm still a little stunned by it. Last Train to Clarksville was great, but 65 million albums?) But I don't think that it's going to turn into the crowd that was outside the Michael Jackson funeral or anything. It was Davy Jones! Why is everyone acting like royalty has died?!


Maybe it's just Micky Dolenz who is delusional. Get this: "We've had a sort of unspoken, I bguess, agreement over the years that if it's just two of us getting together we never called it The Monkees." Well, why would you? If there's only two of you? And there used to be four? That's hardly the same. But here's the part that made me laugh: "I can see us getting together to do a memorial concert, of course, but right now I can't imagine anything else happening without the Manchester Cowboy." Wait. What?


The Manchester Cowboy? Who called him that? Anyone? This feels the same way that it did when I read that Owen Wilson's nickname is allegedly The Butterscotch Stallion. No, it isn't. It can't be. That's a horrible nickname. I don't even know what it means! And I don't know what the Manchester Cowboy is supposed to mean either. (I guess he had horses. Is that relevant to this revelation? I don't know. But I do know that I've never heard that even once in the past forty years.)


Look, let's just call a spade a spade. We all loved Davy Jones (I guess) when he was in The Monkees. We liked it when he was on the Brady Bunch. And now he's dead. He wasn't a superstar anymore. He was just a guy. I don't think it would hurt for the Manchester Cowboy's (did I get that right?) ex-bandmates to show up for his funeral. The paparazzi would be minimal, if any at all could take time away from following Snooki around. Godspeed, Davy Jones.

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Hello, Slut?

I've been thinking about this whole Rush Limbaugh calling some chick who wants the government to pay for birth control a "slut". I don't know why I've been thinking about it. I just have. (Don't you judge me! What was the last thing you thought about?! Ah-HA! Now get your hand out of your pocket. God sees everything.) I just want to go over a couple of things about it.

Now, this Sandra Fluke woman is a 31-year old students at Georgetown Law School. So many news outlets are referring to her as a "college student". OK, technically that's true. A law school is a college. But come on! When you hear "college student", don't you think of someone in their early twenties? Typically? Of course you do. So she's hardly some chick who was just barely a teenager a couple of years ago. She's a grown ass woman. It's not like she's an 18-year old freshman or anything like that. On top of that, she appears to be some sort of feminist activist. I'm pretty sure that with a hobby like that one is going to be fairly thick skinned. I can't imagine how you'd do something like that if you're going to let what people say about you bother you all that much.


Regardless, Limbaugh calls her a slut and a prostitute because he equates having the government pay for birth control with someone being paid to have sex. Now, don't get me wrong. The government should not be providing birth control to people. If you want birth control, I suggest you buy it yourself. Condoms are fairly inexpensive. Then again, any form of birth control is inexpensive when you compare it to the cost of raising a child. Regardless, hit up Planned Parenthood if that's what you need. Don't be asking me and every other taxpayer to subsidize it. There are like a million other things I'd rather my tax money go for.

I'm totally off track. My point here is that President Barry actually called this chick on Friday to "see if she was OK". Good Lord, what a publicity stunt that was. Not to mention what a great idea! Who was the aide who ran breathlessly into the Oval Office? "Mr. President! Mr. President! I have an idea! You know that woman that Rush called a whore?! Slut. Whatever. How about you call that girl to check on her?! It'll make the 5 o'clock news right before the weekend! Here's her number! Thank you, Mr. President! I'll get out of your hair as soon as I catch my breath! But don't let me be in your way. Call now! See if she's OK!"


What a bunch of crap. Does he really think that a grown ass woman is just going to be falling apart because some rotund blowhard called her a 'slut'? Please. Hey, wait a minute. Didn't MSNBC's Ed Schultz call Laura Ingraham a slut? Let's see, what he said exactly was "Like this right-wing slut, what's her name, Laura Ingraham? Yeah, she's a talk slut." Yep, that's what he said all right. Did President Barry call Laura Ingraham and see if she was OK? No? How does that work? Oh, don't tell me it's because Sandra Fluke was "standing up" for a liberal cause and Laura Ingraham is a conservative foe of President Barry's? Wow. So politically motivated. Not to mention pathetic. Who cares?


Is President Barry going to start calling everyone who gets called a name by someone in public? Is this how soft we've really become? Man, if he called her because someone called her a slut, I should let him take a look at some of the email that I get in regard to this blog. He'd move in with me.

And on a side note, SleepTrain has pulled all of their advertising from Limbaugh's show. SleepTrain sells mattresses. (And darn good ones, too! They're a bit pricey, but you can't beat their quality! And same day delivery if you buy it before 2pm? Show me another business where they're going to do that for you! Wow. I'm either quite the shill for SleepTrain or I just have a really comfortable mattress.) Why do I feel like there is some sort of an opportunity here? I'm not sure exactly what it is or what it would entail, but somehow with the topic of birth control and sex and sluts, I'm pretty sure there's at the very least some sort of reprehensible commercial that could be derived from all of this nonsense. Ooooh! Saturday Night Live, do your thing! I'm begging you!

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Montgomery or Mitt?

What better fictional billionaire to compare to Mitt Romney than Mr. Burns from The Simpsons? The guys over there at Mad Magazine thought that it was the perfect comparison and they came up with this quiz in the form of a chart. And even the ones that you know are Mitt Romney, I'll bet you still read them in Montgomery Burns' voice. Excellent.

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2025??

Bought gas lately? I have. I just paid $4.29 a gallon in Santa Cruz. Yes, yes, I realize that Santa Cruz is a little touristy and that could account for some of it, but not much. I paid $4.21 in San Jose the other day. The point here is that we're being screwed for no apparent reason. But what is becoming more and more apparent is that no one cares, no one is going to do anything and we are at the mercy of whatever anyone wants to charge us.

Even President Barry has commented on this recent inexplicable surge in petroleum pricing. What he had to say on the matter was one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard. Then again, I was listening as someone hoping for some sort of solution. A light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, if you will. There's no light. None. Just darkness. Oily darkness.

President Barry gave his weekly radio address the other day. (Did you know that President Barry gave a weekly radio address? Me neither. He does know about the Internet, right? Radio seems to be a strange medium to get a message across. Then again, it was just an asinine statement that he made, he might not have wanted a lot of people to actually hear it. Maybe he figured if it was on the radio that it would just be overlooked.) And do you know what his solution to high gas prices is? Better cars. Duh.

According to the Salt Lake Tribune (and apparently the radio), he said that "Detroit automakers are on track to build cars that average nearly 55 miles per gallon by 2025, doubling current mileage standards." Oh, really? 2025?! That will help me out soooo much next week! And they're "on track" to build those sorts of cars? On TRACK?! How hard is this really? I have a telephone in my pocket that accesses the Internet and takes pictures. (I assume it also makes phone calls, but I really couldn't say for sure.) You're telling me that with aaalllllll of the technology and knowledge that we have about so many things that it is still going to take until 2025 to build a car with better gas mileage?! That's pretty pathetic.

Didn't John F. Kennedy challenge us to put a man on the moon within the decade when he said that? (That was 1962, by the way. I'm not just making this stuff up.) And didn't we put a man on the moon in 1969? So we can get a man from Earth to another freaking planet (Yes, I know a moon is not a planet per se. That's not the point here. FOCUS!), but we're only "on track" to have a car that gets 55 mpg in 13 years? I don't want a flying car; I just want a regular car! (OK, that's a lie. I totally want a flying car! But you know what I'm saying.) It's taking us almost twice as long to build a fuel efficient vehicle that people want than it took us to get people on the moon and back safely?! Are we supposed to be excited about this? Because I'm hardly excited. I'm angry, but I'm not excited.

He continued along with this rainbow and unicorn way of thinking with "That means folks will be able to fill up every two weeks instead of every week, saving the typical family more than $8,000 at the pump over time. That’s a big deal, especially as families are yet again feeling the pinch from rising gas prices." Uhhh...am I the only one who caught the "over time" he put in there. Saving $8,000 over how much time, President Barry? I can save $8,000 "over time" too. Oh, did I mention how much time? Forty years. How's that? Sound ridiculous? So does he.

This is such crap. No one is willing to give anyone a straight answer about why gas prices do what they do. (Current speculation is that gas prices got so high because we might go to war with Iran. How does that work? We're already IN two wars. One more makes that big of a difference? Besides, I don't think it's going to happen. My money's on Israel doing their thing and the US feigning ignorance over it. "They did what? Bombed them? We are so surprised. This is brand new information!") And for President Barry to stand there (Or sit. I have no idea how antiquated radio broadcasts work.) and act like we should be excited that we might get a fuel efficient vehicle in about 13 years is pandering beyond pandering. We're not really dumb children. (OK, people as a whole aren't exactly geniuses. But they do know that this is crap!) All we want is for the price of gas to go down. And we don't really care how it's done, but we're going to need it to be sooner than 13 years. Ok. Thanks.

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Jatravesty

Every single day I keep seeing more and more signs of our imminent demise. (Aka "We're doomed.") Here's what I saw today. Behold!

Wow. Are we...are we sure that those are actually names? I guess we kind of have to assume that they are (as that's usually how these sorts of things work), but I'm pretty sure that I haven't heard of most of those before. And that's not to say that there is something wrong with that. It's just saying...oh, come on! You know what it's saying as well as I do!

Wow. Memaw sure does have a lot of baybays. Does that actually say Jamodesty? That's gotta be a joke. Jamodesty? Sort of like Jermaine Jackson's kid, Jermajesty? I guess Jermajesty was a little too self-indulgent, so they went with Jamodesty? Or maybe that's the feminine form. If Jermajesty is the masculine form of Ja'highness, then that might make sense. All of these seem like derivatives of Heywood Jablowme, but I think I digress.

Actually, wait a minute. Maybe I've figured out how this whole thing works. You take a word that starts with an "M" and ends with a "Y", put a little "Ja" at the beginning of that and BAM! You've got yourself a ghetto name generator. Jamatrimony, Jamalady, Jamilitary, Jamercury, Jamelody. I'm a genius! I'm also ashamed! Moving on!

Now, to be fair, since these are "Memaw's" baybays, I can't really bag on Memaw as she didn't name them. She is advertising those names, however. That's a punishable offense right there when you're talking about E Monte and Jerodius. And while I can give her a little bit of leeway because she wasn't the actual namer, she still loses those points for the misplaced apostrophe in "BayBay's" Oooh! Oooh! Japostrophe!

Oh, God. I've clearly lost it. Must be late. OK, in conclusion, don't do this stuff. If you know someone who does, just turn around and walk the other way. They're beyond help. Save yourself.

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Doomed Due To Leap Day

I was really having a tough time trying to figure out something to post for today. Maybe that was because I was so confused about Leap Day the other day. Oh, no, wait. That wasn't me. That was the chick in the video below. Um, I should probably warn you that you may want to kill yourself after viewing this video. You will definitely want to kill the girl. Oh, and there's a boatload of profanity in it. It really adds to the charm of it all. Is it rather loud, as she is shrieking, so you might want to turn down your speakers or something. Unless you like that sort of thing, in which case, I can't help you very much. I certainly hope this chick is the exception and not the norm these days. I mean, I know we're doomed. But I don't want to be doomed at the hands of this chick. That would just add insult to injury. And who needs that? We're already doomed, why make it worse?

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Why Would You Buy That?

I think that it's been well established here that I simply do not get people. I don't. I don't understand what makes a lot of people work. Or maybe it's that I don't understand how they make themselves work for them. I mean, how can some people be so incredibly dense in the thinking department, yet still manage to find employment at which they perform poorly at best? Here's my most recent example of this phenomenon which I think I just explained terribly. Look at this "greeting card" that Target was carrying. Behold!

That's right. It says "next time you think of dating the bad boy, consider whitney houston. that's all i'm going to say." I'll get to that in a minute, but I'd first like to say that the next time that you think of writing a asinine greeting card, consider punctuation and capitalization. That's all I'm going to say...about that. I've got plenty to say about the rest of it.

First off, in what sense is this a "greeting" card? What exactly are we "greeting"? It's not for a specific holiday. It's not for a specific occasion. So what is it for? Is it for when you really want to give snarky advice to someone but you just can't find the words on your own? Is it for butting into someone else's business under the guise of the "greeting"? I don't get it. I can't think of a single "occasion" on which I would want to give this card. Not one. Can you? Of course you can't.
You know why? Because it's stupid, that is correct.


Now, Target claims that they were carrying these cards loooooong before Ms. Houston decided to explore the underwater depths of her tub sans snorkel but not without copious amounts of alleged Xanax. But now that she's newly deceased, somehow that makes these cards suddenly in poor taste. I can't quite grasp why that is, though. I'm not saying that it was ever in good taste. I guess I just can't get past how stupid this card is to begin with and still cannot fathom why anyone would have bought this in the first place.


But now that Target knows that Whitney Houston is dead, they have begun removing the card from their shelves. Sooooo...it's OK to mock someone's poor choice in partners as long as they're alive? But after they're dead, then it's completely forbidden? How does that work? Target, I'm adding you to my list of pansy retailers who cower at the very thought that they might be involved in some sort of fakeroversy. (Fakeroversy. That's a fake controversy. I haven't used that term in a while, so I thought I'd just clarify.) If anyone actually complained (and I can't imagine that anyone actually did), Target should have just told them to get over it and kept the card on their shelves. I still don't get how it would be offensive after she died. Wouldn't it have been more appropriate to be offended when she was still alive? (Then again, in this scenario I think that I'm assuming that Whitney Houston would have given a crap about a Target "greeting" card that poked fun of her poor choice of a husband. I don't think she would have cared. Nor do I know how she would have known. Was she often seen frequenting the aisles at Target? I can't possibly imagine that.)


Furthermore, I am so not buying into their claim that they had this on their shelves before she died. Whitney Houston wasn't exactly a household name anymore at the time of her untimely submergement. There wasn't someone more well-known that they could have gone with? Katy Perry, perhaps. Her short-lived union to Russell Brand could have been seen as a "bad boy" marriage. At least people would know who Katy Perry is (after they realize that she isn't Zooey Deschanel), even though they still wouldn't have a freaking clue as to which occasion such a card is appropriate.

And look, I got so agitated with the whole concept of the card that I completely forgot about my initial point. That point being that some softhead out there had to design this card and think it was a good idea. Another softhead had to think that this card was a good idea and OK it after that. There had to have been several other softheads involved in the production of this card who thought it was a good idea in order for it to get the point where it's actually on the shelves at Target. Who are these people who thought this was a good idea, especially if it was done after Whitney's death (even though I don't believe for a minute that's the case)? How are these people making decisions like that and they're still getting through life? How do they have jobs where they're allowed to make any decision at all?! These are questions that I will likely never get an answer to. Such questions used to keep me up at night, but now they just make me sad. Sad because we're doomed.

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