Unduly Annoyed

Blowin' Up

2012-01-01T11:31:00.006-05:00

What is it about turning over the last page in the calendar that makes people want to detonate explosive devices in close proximity to their homes? I'm talking about those who, instead of watching professionals on TV deliver a quality fireworks display choreographed to Auld Lang Syne, would rather set off some jank illegal ground mines to the sweet, sweet sounds of Uncle Kracker.

As a person averse to loudness in general, lying in bed waiting for the random explosions to be over and wondering if any of them are aimed at my car isn't fun. It gives me fodder for future PTSD therapy sessions. And what's the excitement in a loud noise? I mean, come on. And it just goes on and on, since there's not usually a time limit set when drunks get a hold of stuff they can blow up. You just have to hope someone blasts their finger off so everyone heads to the ER and you can get some sleep.

At least with a professional display, you get the benefit of some colors and sparkles and maybe one of those newfangled fireworks that looks like a peace sign when it explodes in the air. Now that's progress. If the ancient Chinese come back, we can totally show them the smiley face firework as evidence of our evolution as a species.

Haute Kid-ture

2011-07-06T20:30:00.004-04:00

A Facebook friend who likes to keep me angry recently sent me this article about upper crusty fashion houses releasing clothing lines for small children. So the good news is, if you have like 600 bucks to drop on some stupid t-shirt with a Swarovski crystal skull on it for your three year old, you're in luck. Basically, if you're into forcing your kid to look like one of of Gwen Stefani's offspring, you're good to go. (On a related note, WHO DOES THIS TO THEIR 5 YEAR OLD? I hate you, Gwen Stefani.)

If you've got money to burn and time to kill shopping, then knock yourself out, I guess.

More disturbing than the immediate financial aspect is what kind of values dumbass parents are instilling in their progeny with this kind of thing. It reminded me of this post on STFU, Parents, a site that I visit when I want a laugh. In short, some mom's got her kids all outfitted up in "Jordans", Coach sunglasses (??!!), Dooney and Bourke bags, etc. so much so that they actually DEMAND these items by name and reject lesser impostors. Her kids are 7 and 2. Ugh. Way to perpetuate the mindless consumerist culture that's running us all into the ground. Also, newsflash: labeling them "divas" just because they like "the finer things" doesn't make this cute - it just makes it grosser.

Visiting STFU, Parents always starts out good (the Mommyjacking threads are pretty awesome), but it ends up depressing. You start thinking, "Why are morons having children? STOP IT."

I say, let's put something in the water that makes everyone sterile, and then if you want to have a kid, we'll give you a basic skills test and if you pass, BAM - antidote coming your way. I mean, you need a license to go fishing but not to have kids? Mind boggling. Of course, it opens up questions of who is writing this test and by what standards are people being judged, to which I say, "Me" and "Mine."

Bad Romance

2011-06-29T19:05:00.006-04:00

If something doesn't happen on Facebook, did it really happen?

Like, for instance, if you catch your boyfriend cheating, you should probably paste a blow-by-blow (in some cases, literally) of all of his indiscretions on Facebook so everyone can recognize what a wad he is. And if you're sad about it, you should probably post that on your wall so EVERYONE knows. Because what is the point of having the sads if no one knows about your suffering? And when you find a new dude, you should probably unfavorably compare the old guy to the new guy, stat.

I thought there would be umpteen sites about FB breakups, and there are. And dude, some are REALLY funny. Especially when grammar and spelling are concerned, because not only do you get to feel superior to someone dumb enough to air their dirty laundry (in some cases, literally) on Facebook, you get to laugh at their inability to punctuate.

Breaking up with someone you actually like: painful. Sometimes rage-inducing. But if you take to the internet to register your dissatisfaction about your mate or relationship, IT'S OUT THERE. It's not like telling your friend how much your boyfriend stinks (in some cases, literally) and you can hope she'll be too drunk to remember. You're posting this for 237 of your close "friends" to see. So if you do work it out with Loverboy, you're gonna look like an even bigger idiot when you post pics of you guys snuggling at someone's wedding. "Didn't she make disparaging remarks about his manhood and then change her status to "Single" a week ago?"

Let it marinate. Think about what you're doing. Here's an idea: KEEP IT TO YOURSELF. For real! It can be done! People used to do it all the time! There were things called "privacy" and "shame" and they worked out OK for a long time. Then reality TV happened and people started wearing pajamas in public and all hell broke loose (in some cases, literally).

Idiot Box

2011-05-11T21:39:00.000-04:00

Is it too much to ask to go and pump some stupid gas and not have a TV blaring nonsense at me while I'm doing it? Can I just go, fuel up, inhale noxious fumes and stare at the pump, contemplating what else I could have done with that $30? Seriously, it takes like 3 minutes to fill up. I'd like to spend it in a moment of Zen-like peace, or at least be able to squeegee my windows without some tool screaming at me from a TV screen mounted above the gas pump. We already have idiots pumping gas while sucking on a cigarette or talking on their stupid cellphones: do we need a bunch of yahoos spraying gas all over the place because they were watching a segment about Star Jones' weave.

The worst is when every pump at the gas station has one of these things on top of it and they are all blaring at full volume, but are all like, an eighth of a second from being completely in synch with one another. It's an endless echo of insanity that I could do without. I don't need to be marketed to every time I step out on public, thanks, and I'm actually fine with not being entertained every second of my waking life.

Speaking of entertainment, I also don't appreciate paying $89 for a movie ticket and then being forced to watch commercials before the movie starts. Let's try paying Reese Witherspoon a little less, instead.

Speaking of irritating: now those things in the drugstore that they mount to the shelves to dole out coupons come with tiny monitors that talk to you while you're trying to buy some damn shampoo. Like, SHUT. UP. First of all, no. Secondly, sometimes I like to listen to the sweet sounds of Mr. Michael MacDonald or Ambrosia as I wander the aisles, OK? So I don't need some tiny woman squawking at me from a tiny monitor and telling me to buy lotion. I'll decide when I need lotion, thanks. I don't need you inflaming my touch of Aspberger's in the meantime. Maybe that's what the lotion is for.

Toilet Paper Revolt

2011-01-27T20:21:00.005-05:00

Can someone tell me what is up with this spate of disgusting toilet paper commercials? Listen: this is America. Toilet paper is, thankfully, pretty plentiful, even if it's the nasty one-ply kind found in public restrooms or the guest bathrooms of cheap people. WE GET WHAT IT'S FOR. What is up with all these commercials hell-bent on elucidating exactly what it does? Enough, already! Unless they're marketing to the recently toilet trained or members of some ecoterrorist group ideologically opposed to toilet paper, I don't get it.

Cases in point:

1) Those Charmin bears who are plagued by their TP "leaving pieces behind". Um, just because they're animated bears and one's a baby doesn't make this any less gross. And it's not bad enough that they just talk about this burning issue - then they go a step further and show the particles. I don't care that it's just a cartoon - it's disgusting.

2) Speaking of disgusting, let's talk about this new Quilted Northern commercial where a bunch of non-animated dames stand around and talk about what they need their toilet paper to do. "It gets you clean while helping to keep your hands clean." HELLO. It's toilet paper. THAT'S WHAT IT DOES. This whole "we need it to protect our hands, too" stuff... Isn't that part of the deal?! Who is watching this and thinking, "Oh, I never thought of that!"? Since this commercial is clearly not teaching us anything new, I can only conclude that it exists to enrage people with its stupidity. And totally skeeve them out.

And also, don't dudes buy toilet paper? How come all these commercials feature women (or adorable bear children)?

Look, all you need to do to successfully market toilet paper is to ensure people that it's not going to scrape off their flesh when they use it (I'm talking to you, Scott Tissue) or render you infertile. Let's leave this all behind (no pun intended), bring back that Mr. Whipple guy and tell him to start squeezin'.

TV Review: Ma's Road House

2010-10-11T20:55:00.005-04:00

When I saw Ma from TruTV's "Ma's Road House" on "The Soup", I was, to loosely quote Biz Markie, very enthused. Here was Ma, trash-talkin', cantankerous old lady who reminded me of my own dearly departed grandmother, perhaps best known for her habit of dropping cigarette ashes on the carpet and grinding them in with her slipper, claiming it somehow "conditioned" the rug. Observe "Ma" in action:

"Happy wedding day." Gold, pure gold!

Eagerly, I programmed the DVR and awaited more of Ma's eloquence and grace, certain that hours of amusement awaited.

WRONG. This show sucks. I'm aware that at this stage in the game, all reality shows are fake: but I like my reality shows to disguise that fact with a little more panache than "Ma's Road House" does. Which is to say, not at all. The episode I saw featured some stupid story line about the health inspector showing up to shut down said Road House for various violations including but not limited to Ma smoking in the kitchen and bikini clad waitresses swimming with STDs serving food, or something. It ended with the "health inspector" (read: boom operator for the show) getting drunk at a Road House sponsored Bikini and Prison Tattoo contest and then forgiving the violations after a day of wild debauchery. RIGHT. Basically, the producers were like, "How can we cram as many fake boobs and dudes with ZZ Top beards as possible into 22 minutes?"

In between, the gospel according to Ma is showcased. Turns out what's funny in 5 seconds on "The Soup" becomes painful to watch any longer than that. By the end of it, I felt like reporting Ma to Child Protective Services for being a wad to both her son and granddaughter - except that the former is like 50 and the latter, 20, so CPS doesn't want any of that mess. But basically, instead of being endearingly frank, Ma's just an abusive a-hole. How she made it this long without getting shanked, I don't know. I kind of felt like doing it myself, by the end of the episode.

I've learned my lesson here. From now on, the only "Road House" I'll be frequenting is on Spike TV and is run by The Swayze with a little help from Sam Elliott and his mustache, along with that blind dude who plays the guitar behind chicken wire.

Nothin' But Their Jeans.

2010-10-06T20:21:00.008-04:00

People need to stop doing stupid stuff to their kids in the name of fashion. Your kid does not exist as your opportunity to show the world how cool you think you are, OK?

Case in point - the skinny jeans for toddlers phenom that someone recently clued me in to. Where do I even start with this? First of all, what? This whole "jeggings" (jeans + leggings = jeggings) thing has been done. Except in the late '80s and early '90s, they were acid washed and called "stretch jeans" and if they were formal, they included zippers and little denim bows at the ankle. They took awhile to pull on, and were the preferred costume of those who aspired to be groupies for Britny Fox. But at no time were they made in size 2T, as they are today.

What is the point of putting your kid in these, other than to announce to the world that you're a tool who likes to torture toddlers? These things are a pain in the rear to put on a full-sized human, so forget about wrestling with a kid with limited motor skills and who is sporting an apple bottom courtesy of Huggies. I'm glad your vegan baby has a slim physique, but we don't need to see it swaddled in spandex.

Newsflash: your kid is a kid, not a short adult. So dress the kid as a kid, why don't you? Your baby does not dig the Arcade Fire, so stop trying to hook up the baby jeggings ("bajegs"?) with your hipster onesie. It's annoying. There's plenty of time for your child to WANT to wear dumb clothes and have a stupid haircut - he doesn't need you giving him a mohawk at age 2. DO YOU HEAR ME, GWEN STEFANI?

Let the freakin' kid be a kid. She's going to be judged as being cool or uncool by her looks soon enough: why accelerate the process?

TV Review: Locked Up Abroad

2010-08-11T16:11:00.006-04:00

When you see something affiliated with National Geographic, you know it's going to be both classy and educational. There might even be nudity involved, but it will be strictly legit and cultural-like.

Well, there's no nudity in National Geographic Channel's "Locked Up Abroad", but it's plenty educational. And the message is, "Don't be an idiot and smuggle drugs across international borders unless you want your ass thrown in a Thai prison for 30 years."

The show's webpage claims that those "Locked Up Abroad" were just looking for a good time in a foreign land when BAM! they land in a Mexican jail. But every episode I've ever seen goes like this:

1. Some dope goes to Columbia (or other nation renown for drug production). Initially, times are good with partying, ethnic food and cultural music shown in a montage of wacky camera angles as an actor in a bad wig reenacts what went down.

2. Some guys offer the dumbass a ton of money to smuggle massive amounts of cocaine (or heroin) to another country. "Just cover up these 10 lb. bricks of heroin in your suitcase with a towel - no one will ever know it's there."

3. The idiot thinks this is a foolproof plan. Didn't he ever see that "Brokedown Palace" mess? Should have asked himself WWCDD (what would Claire Danes do?) and done the opposite.

4. On the way to the airport, or in the airport itself, the drug mule has the opportunity to abort the mission and chooses not to.

5. Just when he thinks he's gotten away with it after making it through airport security, some guy in a uniform confronts him and DAMN! you get that sinking feeling he must have had when he realized it was all over.

They're spending some coin on this show, because they actually shoot it in the country where the guy is now locked up (abroad). The reenactments are interspersed with video of the perp/victim against a black backdrop, telling his story. Then, towards the end, the camera pans back and you see the backdrop is some old sheet draped across a couple of bunk beds over a latrine and they're shooting it in the guy's jail cell while 14 of his cellmates hang around. Holy moly.

It's all pretty formulaic, so why is it so compelling? Because we've all had that "Oh, crap" moment when we've done something stupid. Except it usually doesn't result in us languishing in a Thai prison for the rest of our lives.

TV Review: Runaway Squad

2010-04-06T19:29:00.005-04:00

A&E is offering up some new reality programs to compliment their holy trinity of "Obsessed", "Intervention" and "Hoarders". "Runaway Squad", however, is a departure since rather than dealing with people and their compulsive disorders, it involves a Gene Simmons lookalike and wayward teens.

By virtue of the fact that the word "squad" is in the title, it's automatically awesome. The show follows the exploits of a goon squad of ex-NYPD cops hired to locate kids who are themselves exploited and/or missing. This includes the aforementioned Gene Simmons clone, complete with a Just For Men saturated coif, muscle t-shirt and concealed weapon, his spiral-permed wife, a bald guy, a guy with a big nose, and a dude who stalks the teens on the internet to find out when was the last time they tweeted. They get hired by parents whose teens have taken off for points unknown. Hopefully, they find the kids. In Episode 1, the job was done for them, since the kid returned home on her own.

The entire profession exists in some sort of netherworld of legality: they're not cops, but they go and shake people down (mostly off camera, but probably with said weapons) and presumably can take the kids off the streets against their will. I guess since they're minors and the parents are presumably shelling out the big bucks for the service, it's all good. Plus, the people they're shaking down aren't exactly pillars of society: we're talking about pimps and drug dealers - your general, garden-variety scum.

Watching the process of them narrowing down where the kids might be is fascinating (and probably something that happens on any number of police procedural shows, but I'm not trying to know anything about those). It's also beyond disturbing to follow the paths of these kids and to see how a girl from Long Island can end up in a gang and being held as a prostitute against her will, all at the age of 15.

Evidently, A&E aired this pilot back in December to determine if Gene and co. had the chops to run with a whole series and apparently, they do. So welcome to the home of Candy Finnegan and Dr. Shana, Gene.

TV Review: Dwarf Shows

2010-02-26T12:04:00.007-05:00

Have we had enough of these shows about midgets, or what? I swear, every time I turn on the TV there's some new show on basic cable about ice road truckers - who are also little people!

As far as I'm concerned, what kicked it all off was the TLC special, "The Smallest People in the World" featuring poor Sharon, a primordial dwarf with regular-sized teeth. Oh, my word. That'll make you cry. In case you don't know, primordial dwarfism produces people who are teeny tiny, like this dude (no, that's not Photoshopped). It's pretty rare, but like, aren't their lives tough enough without calling them "primordial"? I mean, it doesn't sound nice, because what do you think of when you hear the word "primordial"? Ooze, right? Not nice.

Then that spawned "Little People, Big World" about the tractor-riding drunken Roloff family of dwarves somewhere in the midwest. BORING. They run a pumpkin patch or something and it's all well and good, but who cares?

Then they started with this "Littlest Couple" which I've never seen but I think is about a couple of dwarves trying to have a kid. Whatever.

Then, things started getting really nutty. "The Little Chocolatiers" is yet another show about a confectionery-type company (like "Cake Boss" or "Ace of Cakes"), but is different because it's RUN BY MIDGETS. Are you kidding me? Sigh.

Over on Animal Planet, they've got "Pit Boss", which as far as I can ascertain is about a group that runs an illegal pit bull breeding and dog fighting business but, you guessed it, is comprised of dwarfs (the people, not the pit bulls).

ENOUGH ALREADY WITH THE MIDGETS. If the point of these shows is to show that they are just like "regular people" then LEAVE THEM THE HELL ALONE. Stop trotting them out and making them hop on a step stool in front of the cameras so they can pay for gum at the store. This whole "they're just like us, see?" idea is a crock, because if they were, they wouldn't be on TV. Just let them do their thing!

TV Review: Undercover Boss

2010-02-21T22:03:00.006-05:00

So I watched that show Undercover Boss a couple of times. It's the one where some CEO of a billion dollar company puts on a smock and a name tag and pretends to be a normal person for like a week. Then at the end, s/he usually learns Valuable Life Lessons about Blue Collar People and gives them some sort of token gift while everyone claps and faith is restored in Corporate America.

This had the potential to be good ("Let's see what a jerk this guy really is! He can't even operate a cash register!"), but just plays like an extended PR piece. It might as well be called CEOs Are People, Too. Maybe they are, but in the wake of all of this banking bailout/economic crisis nonsense, I'm not in the mood. I'd rather watch a show called Underworld Boss that portrays heads of companies as Satanic minions while minimum wage employees poke them with sharpened hockey sticks.

The Blue Collar types they get to be on the show all go in every day with a smile and scrub toilets like its going out os style. At least one Average Joe per episode seems to be on dialysis. Let's see some real employees, grousing about their paltry salaries (a topic which I've not seen raised yet) talking on cell phones and demanding more smoke breaks.

At the end, the CEO meets with the Magical People he's learned from all week and reveals his true identity. Sometimes he's just like, "Thanks, you're super." Then there's usually some sort of company meeting in a warehouse where the CEO reveals that s/he has been an Undercover Boss for the past week and has done all manner of the mundane, dead-end jobs that everyone in the room does every day (gasp!). They usually show outtakes where the Blue Collar Types are telling the Undercover Boss that he's not cut out to be a tow truck driver. This is to of course, give the illusion that the CEO has a sense of humor about himself and that the regular folks actually somehow have the upper hand.

Another annoying thing is that usually the Blue Collar people on the show are like, "I never dreamed this would happen to me." What? Shaking the hand of a guy who makes 9,000 times your income and probably works half as hard? Let's give everyone a raise instead of just giving Hector every Tuesday afternoon off for his medical treatment.

I'm not buying that marginally bettering the lives of a handful of employees makes the companies or the CEOs profiled any more altruistic. Am I just a jerk?

Dope Driving.

2010-02-04T18:50:00.005-05:00

I don't drive very often, but when I do, there's always a theme. It's like the first idiot creates a topic sentence by doing something stupid and then everyone else plays the role of supporting sentences by doing something similarly dumb. The conclusion comes when I've reached my destination, fuming with rage. PEOPLE ON 'LUDES SHOULD NOT DRIVE.

Some popular themes embraced by stupid drivers include:

1) Let's cut you off and then go 12 MPH in front of you. A slight variation on the theme is the related "Let's cut you off and then repeatedly brake for no discernible reason." Like why do you HAVE to get in this lane when there's nothing wrong with the one you're putting along in? STAY THERE AND LEAVE ME BE.

2) Even though we're on a 4 lane highway and there is not another car in sight, I'll ride your bumper instead of passing. New Jersey, I'm looking at you. Any time this happens to me, I guess that the car will have NJ plates (they're usually tailing too close to see in the rear view) and I'm right 98% of the time.

3) Taking up as many lanes as I damn well please because I'm too busy like, WATCHING TV while I'm driving. I swear I was behind a car with a TV screen in the sun visor yesterday. WHAT IS THAT? Do we need to be entertained at every waking moment, at the expense of careening into other cars?!

4) If I am not sure where I'm going, I'll just stop in the MIDDLE OF THE ROAD to figure it out. No need to actually pull over - I'm the only person in the world who matters!

These are but a few. What are others you've experienced?

...and Twins!

2010-01-07T20:07:00.004-05:00

Can someone please explain the concept of the celebrity look-alike to me? Like, how is it a job to sort of look like a famous person who actually, you know, does stuff? What is the market for this? The opening of a mini-mall? And who's getting excited to see a discount version of say, Fantasia? Does she sing like Fanny? No? WHAT IS THE POINT? Even for like, a kids' birthday party, I don't think this would fly. They might be excited until they finally realize that that's not really Britney Spears prancing around their living room. Then the whole situation just becomes embarrassing for everyone involved.

Even worse are celebrity look-alikes of people who don't even do anything in the first place. We're talking Paris Hilton, the Pope, et al. That's great that you have a big ass and look kind of like Kim Kardashian. What are you going to do at a corporate function? Reenact scenes from her sex tape?

Along the same lines are wax museums. Why do these exist? Are you supposed to take photos from just the right angle so that you can't see the shiny, waxy veneer and try to fool your friends into thinking you actually met Rodney Dangerfield? Um, first of all, he's dead. Secondly, they always look kind of off. Like the wigs are askew, the eyes a little wonky, the features a little too masculine or feminine.

Wax museums always seem to be in major metropolitan cities (London, New York, San Francisco, etc.) where there's any number of better things one could be doing than looking at a fake version of Brad and Angelina. WHY WOULD YOU GO THERE? Maybe if it was raining and you had a coupon. Even so, though.

Much more amusing are sites like http://totallylookslike.com/ where they compare celebs to one another, or ones where you upload a pic of yourself and it tells you you look like Kathy Bates.

Movie Review: Orphan.

2010-01-02T09:42:00.006-05:00

So I watched this movie "Orphan" last night because it looked dumb and I like movies that are unintentionally funny.

Basically, the theme was, "don't ever adopt a kid in Victorian clothing with a Russian accent". There's even a PSA before the movie starts about adoption and how it doesn't necessarily lead to death and destruction for all involved. How nice.

The movie is about a family with an adorable deaf 4 year-old and a bratty tween son who plays Guitar Hero and looks at contraband Penthouse magazines in his professionally engineered treehouse. The mom - the (only) woman from "The Departed", lost a baby in childbirth and now she and her husband, Peter Saarssssgaaaard are in the market for a new kid to bring home to their totally un-childproof home. Peter is like his generation's Andrew McCarthy or Campbell Scott; he squints his way through scenes and seems to be in danger of bursting into tears at any moment. He's one of those guys who also seems prone to discussing his feelings at great length, and no one wants that mess, so just back away.

Pete and that Maggie Gylleenhaaaaaaal have a baby together in real life. Ramona Saaaarsssgaaaard-Gyllenhaaaal is quite a handle for an infant and let's hope the kid split the difference with the genes and came out looking OK, is all I have to say. I'm sure Mags is a nice gal, but let's get her a supportive bra and some under-eye cream, right?

Anyway, the parents go to this swanky orphanage run by kindly nuns and pick out a kid pretty much based on the fact that she refuses to socialize with anyone else and displays savant-like tendancies. Good move! They bring her home the next day, because apparently picking out an orphan is like ordering something from Amazon and next-day service is available.

If you saw the trailers for this movie, you know where this is all going and I'm not really giving anything away. Soon after the Orphan moves into the Departed-Saarsgard house, things start going awry. The Orphan insists on wearing these ruffled pinafore numbers with velvet ribbons around her neck and wrists, complete with Shirley Temple/Snoop Dogg curls on the head. Hey, parents: RED FLAG.

Next, people start getting maimed and/or killed. It's basically like "The Bad Seed" but set in a house with an open floor plan where no one can have a private conversation without the Orphan lurking around and listening, then glaring in a menacing manner before tiptoeing off behind some architectural element.

Things continue to escalate. The mom considers going back to drinking. The dad cries (naturally).

Then the amazing twist is revealed about the Orphan's true past! I won't give it away, but suffice it to say it was something I jokingly posited as an explanation for this girl's behavior within the first 15 minutes of the movie and I can't believe I was right because it's pretty hilarious. After we find out the truth, the movie really picks up, but unfortunately, it's almost over by then.

Have you seen this film? What did you think?

Christmas Jeers

2009-12-21T19:47:00.004-05:00

There are many gross things associated with the Christmas season. Even with the decorations and stuff, the cheer part often eludes me. Let's have a rundown of what's not cute about this time of year:

1) Commercials like this, which are even more annoying because you can't embed the file in your blog. Here's the gist: "I love Christmas because... I love to shop!" Really? That's great.

2) The aforementioned Gap commercials which drive me into a near-homicidal rage.

3) Candy canes. They look cute, but I don't want to eat that. And now I feel obligated to do so because what about all the starving children.

4) Cookies and cake that look delicious but then you bite into them and they taste like rum or some crap. What is that? I don't need to get hammered from eating a cookie. I just want a damn cookie that tastes like a cookie, not a cocktail.

5) Those cards that you get that don't fold. Don't get me wrong. I love getting picture cards. But the ones that don't fold and that you have to prop up against the wall get relegated to the back row on the mantel with the free-standing ones obscuring them and their beauty. Which kind of sucks because then I can't see the cuteness.

6) The fact that every store feels the need to play nothing but Christmas music. Come on. Not everyone is into it. Can we throw some Doobie Brothers in there to break it up?

7) Crap like this:

which they then made even worse by making a TV movie based on it. Mom's dying and your buying her shoes? Good luck with that. How about buying that kid a coat, instead?

8) When they do crud that messes with my precious childhood memories. Like those parodies about Rudolph being a porn star or something. Take your pick here. I don't need that, OK? It's not helping.

9) Sexy Santa lingerie. Really?

10) This:

If this is what I'm getting from my piece this year, we're over.

Umbrella-ella-ella Pt. 2

2009-12-12T16:34:00.004-05:00

We've touched on this topic before, but more attention must be paid. I've got a lot more problems with umbrellas and you're going to hear about them.

One: People don't know how to use them properly. E.g. if I'm walking toward you and you have an umbrella open, LIFT IT UP so it doesn't poke me in the freakin' eye. Get off your stupid cellphone so you can pay attention and properly wield the umbrella at a safe height instead of resting it on one shoulder and then spinning around, blinding those around you.

Two: If you can't handle number one above, invest in one of those clear, bubble-type umbrellas that are all the rage in Japan (and maybe elsewhere where people have good sense). Then you can actually SEE what is coming toward you instead of blindly staggering down the sidewalk in the rain, holding your opaque umbrella and hoping for the best. Some ideas are so simple.

Three: If you have a sopping wet umbrella, how about not putting it on the empty chair next to you in the restaurant you're in because guess what? Those are actually made to be seats for PEOPLE who don't need a wet butt because you have a separation anxiety issue and can't part with your Totes at the door.

Finally: What is with those little "sleeves" they make for umbrellas? You know what I'm talking about: when you get a new one, it comes encased in this little nylon sheath. Great, but what am I supposed to do with that? Fold the umbrella so meticulously back into its original creases after each use so that it actually fits back into one of those things? I dont' think so. People with that kind of time and patience are doing things like constructing boats inside bottles, writing angry and rambling letters to the editor or making artwork that nobody can see.

Fall into the Gap

2009-12-01T19:24:00.003-05:00

Dear Gap:

If your intent was to make me want to put a muzzle on these kids and push them into a mud puddle...

...mission accomplished.

And while they're drying off, I'll be happy to take a Taser to everyone appearing here:

Happy Holidays!

Hype-Cast.

2009-11-17T20:36:00.006-05:00

All of these horrible shows on the VH-1 are pretty low-budge', right? Like in addition to being light on content and any lacking in any redeeming qualities, they also don't have much going on by way of production values. Throw some skanks in a room with a D list celeb and a bottle of Old Crow, film it and then slap it together with some Nickelback in the background is pretty much the formula.

If they want to save even more coin, they just need to keep recycling all of the cast members of each show. Maybe they already do this, I don't know. But for some ungodly reason, I found myself watching "Tough Love" the other night. This show features many ladies with low self esteem and body issues being coached on how to hide their foibles and be what dudes like so that some tool will marry them.

One of the charmers on the show is Rocky, whom I recognized from ("The Soup"'s clips of) that show with Danny Bonaduce about how you should under no circumstances let your kid go into show business because the kid might end up looking like a leprechaun made of Slim Jims and giving beat-downs to unsuspecting transvestites. She's the lady who gave us this clip (and no, she is not the transvestite previously mentioned).

Someone please call CPS immediately.

Anyway, they could easily just shuffle these people around: move the skanks from "Rock of Love" over to find husbands on "Tough Love." Have the d-wads from "Tool Academy" go on "For the Love of Gay J". Then funnel everyone on over to either Sex or Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew.

The Fabric of Our Lives.

2009-11-09T21:59:00.006-05:00

Please explain these cotton commercials to me. Like, why do they need to advertise cotton? It's like advertising steel. Few of us are actually purchasing this on the open market. Even if you're going all "Project Runway" and making your own clothes, it's not like you would storm into JoAnn Fabrics demanding cotton. I don't get it.

I also don't get this Zooey Deschanel person's voice. I guess there was a certain appeal to it in "Elf" when she was singing that song about it being cold outside, but in this commercial, she sounds weird. Like an old woman who has been hitting the Dimetapp a little too hard. Like a muppet on 'ludes. Like old gum in the dirt.

At least now we know what fabric to wear while sticking Post-Its to an antique upright piano and going banjo shopping.

Acting Squirrely.

2009-11-02T22:18:00.004-05:00

It's like, enough already with the squirrels. Every time I'm walking through the park, there's someone transfixed by one: chasing it around a tree, taking its picture, trying to communicate with it through a series of clicks and teeth sucking sounds that I'm pretty sure are not in any way fooling the squirrel into thinking that this guy in Dockers with a $5000 baby stroller is, in fact, someone the squirrel might see back in the nest later that night.

By and large, the folks who seem the most interested are the ones not speaking English with an American accent. Which begs the question: do they have squirrels in other countries? I'm pretty sure they do and that they look almost exactly like the ones here. I've been a bunch of places, and I've seen them. In Canada recently, I saw one that was black. That's crazy.

Basically, squirrels are like people with neck tattoos - everywhere and not very interesting. I saw a squirrel this morning eating a nut with its tail all curled up behind it, behaving as a squirrel should. I guess that was kind of cute, but boring, sort of like the Levi Johnston of squirrels.

Once, I saw a t-shirt with an image of a squirrel with huge testicles on it. Some kind of visual nut joke, I guess. The interesting part is that it was stapled to a plywood loading palette and propped up randomly on a sidewalk with no one around and no word of explanation. So what I'm saying is if these squirrels in the park put in a little extra effort like the one on the shirt, we'd all be a lot better off.

Tyra's Stank.

2009-10-28T21:45:00.003-04:00

The time may have come for ANTM and me to part ways. Sad, as we spent some good Wednesday evenings together. Who can forget Crazy Lisa and the funniest thing I have ever seen on reality TV?

I've been overlooking Tyra and her nonsense for well nigh 13 cycles of ANTM, but after this week's installment, I'm finally acknowledging that Tyra is a total reject. For the photo shoot this week, Tyra shot the midget model hopefuls as "two different races".

First of all, she seems a little confused on what a "race" is. "Laura, you're going to be Mexican and Greek!" Um, neither of those is a race. Secondly - WTF?! This shoot involved all of the girls except Sundai, the lone black contender, to be dipped in dark body paint and "transformed into a new race." Basically, it was blackface, under the guise of celebrating President Obama's biracial heritage. I'll give you a moment to try to comprehend that crock.

Are you for real, Tyra? "Celebrating" different nationalities by painting skin and dressing the models in the most stereotypical (not to mention chintzy) clothing representing said nations/nationalities? The Native American/East Indian shoot included a full-on feather headress, sari and bindi, and came complete with regal, stoic stare. I was waiting for a lone tear to come dripping down her cheek. COME ON. These stupid stereotypes are how you're purporting to break down racial barriers? Are you serious?! If you want to celebrate being biracial, HOW ABOUT HAVING SOME BIRACIAL MODELS IN THE COMPETITION? You could totally save on body paint!

We should have seen this coming. There were precursors. Exhibit A: When Tyra made the models dress up poor and pose with real life homeless (yet photogenic) people! Then she explained that she knew the deal with homelessness, since she, too, was homeless FOR AN ENTIRE DAY. What does that even mean? That she didn't go home to her mansion until bedtime one day?! Then there was the Tyra in a Fat Suit episode of her unwatchable daytime TV show, "A Daily Celebration of Tyra." On the real, this woman is clueless. But in an increasingly harmful way.

Police Blotto.

2009-10-27T20:42:00.004-04:00

I subscribe to the police report for my 'hood that they send out every week, partially because I want to know what I'm dealing with out there and mainly because I'm a Nosy Parker (not to be confused with Parker Posey, which is allegedly her real name, which I have a hard time believing). Like I found out that a week ago around the corner, some guy woke up in the morning to a homeless man standing in his bedroom, wearing his bathrobe. At a shady hotel/halfway house type place, someone got their X-Box stolen, but they didn't report it until three days later... to the Airport Police. One time, there was a graphic description of transvestite prostitutes "flagging down passing motorists and yelling massage."

But the incidents that get me are the ones that are invariably there every week: car window gets smashed, and something ridiculously valuable that was obviously clearly visible through said smashed window gets stolen. Really, people? You're surprised when you leave your laptop in your Mercedes and it gets popped? Oh, you left your iPod in the car and now it's no longer there? Your solid gold infant was left in your unattended and unlocked car and now you're upset that it's gone? COME ON.

I'm not into blaming the victim and not every break in results in a haul like a laptop (or anything at all), but when I park my piece of junk car, I put the trusty Club into place and leave the empty glove box open to show that there's nothing in there anyone wants. Unless they want a manual for a 1992 Honda, a map of PA and NJ state parks and a cassette tape of The Best of MTV's 120 Minutes (Part 2). Then they can have at it.

Dirty Diapers.

2009-10-18T20:32:00.004-04:00

WTF is up with the people at Pampers? Most of their ad campaigns (with the exception of that one with Salma Hayek and the most-imitable pronunciation of "Pampers" ever) are geared directly at toddlers. Like, they address babies directly about their diaper needs.

Where do I even start with this nonsense? How about that it's totally gross to market directly to PEOPLE WHO CANNOT EVEN INFLUENCE PURCHASING DECISIONS YET since they can't, you know, TALK. Like it's not bad enough that kids are constantly bombarded with commercialism and consumerism, now we're indoctrinating them to buy, buy, buy practically as soon as they emerge from the birth canal? Are the parents watching this thinking, "Why aren't they talking to me? I'm the one with the cash money"?

Secondly, what is this crap about how busy toddlers are, toiling around the house? No, they're not. They're napping, being waited on hand and foot, occasionally throwing tantrums and generally making a mess.

I get that they're really addressing the parents here with mentions of lawn care, household chores, etc., but it's really disturbing. Isn't it bad enough that 6 year olds know all the words to Pussycat Dolls songs and that child beauty pageants exist? Do we have to take a bunch of kids with no pants on who can't even use indoor plumbing yet and project them into roles of daily drudgery? Can we not just let kids be kids? Cripes. It's enough to make a person want to turn off the TV and become Amish. Although then I guess the kids would be raising barns from the time they could walk, so...

Trite Tripe.

2009-10-15T17:20:00.005-04:00

Can we all agree to stop using the phrase "I love [whoever] to death"? I mean, WTF does that mean, anyway? That you love the person so much you want to kill them? That is not cool, man.

Even if intent to murder is not the intended subtext of the phrase, I've noticed that people usually use it to talk about someone they actually don't like all that much. "I love Hans to death... But his sandals make me gag." "I love my mother in-law-to death... but I'm glad she lives in Guam." "I love children to death... But I have vivid nightmares that those creepy twins from that Ikea commercial will somehow find me and murder me in my sleep." (Seriously, what is that commercial even about?! That the mom loves her matching ovens more than her twins? That twins are evil? The Twin Anti-Defamation League needs to get on that.)

While we're eradicating irritating, meaningless phrases from our collective vocabulary, let's also do away with the space-filler, "It is what it is." Oh, is it, really? WHAT? If it's not what it is, then WHAT IS IT? It's like an existential mind-bender. But stupid.

Maximizing Exercise.

2009-10-12T18:42:00.005-04:00

So, like: exercise. Cardio, more specifically. The goal here is to raise your heart level up and get that sucker pumping, right? Strengthen it up, burn those calories? To accomplish this, it's often recommended that you strap ankle and wrist weights to yourself and then go walk up some stairs or gad about town. Wouldn't it create the same effect if you were just fat? Because then you're hauling around extra weight all the time and, hey, no Olivia Newton-John accoutrement needed!

Along the same lines, smoking is also proven to raise one's heart rate. If you lit up while running, you could get twice the workout in half the time! How about installing some ashtrays on the elliptical machines at the gym? I saw a guy out jogging once: sweatbands, shortie shorts, tank top, the whole nine, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he chugged down the sidewalk. Some would call him an idiot. I dub him a Master of Optimization.

Go Away, Ginkgo.

2009-10-02T15:11:00.005-04:00

Let me tell you, no one loves a tree more than I do. Remember when those trees all went ape in one of those Lord of the Rings movies? That was totally the best part. I also aspire to live in a tree one day. I'm aiming for those stars.

But unlike man, not all trees are created equal. Some are hotter than others and some are a downright mess. Take the ginkgo tree - please. These things are nasty: when the ginkgo berries get ripe or whatever and plop down on the sidewalk, they emit an exquisite scent reminiscent of like, rotten fruit meets manure (identifying scents is not my strong suit and my inability to do so points to what I fear is early onset Alzheimers. Ironically, ginkgo is supposed to be good for your memory.)

And for some reason, the city of Philadelphia has seen fit to plant these things on every. single. block. Not only do they stink, but once you step in the fallen berries, they form a slick gel that then smells AND could potentially cause you to have a Life Alert moment. I know they're supposed to be hearty and be able to thrive in polluted environments, but man - they are contributing to the pollution.

Tippie Toe.

2009-09-30T21:55:00.004-04:00

Remember that whole Ted Danson/Whoopi Goldberg conflagration? Like, what was that? They got together whilst filming edgy, topical comedy "Made in America" during which Whoops visits Ye Olde Sperm Bank and gets implanted with Sam Malone's fluids. Next thing you know, they're dating in real life and he's donning blackface at the Friar's Club in a misguided attempt to be his generation's Al Jolson (not to be confused with this guy).

Evidently, movie sets lead to strange bedfellows: Billy Bob and Angelina, anyone? Those were the days: those two sittin' around, swappin' blood vials and eatin' only orange foods. Then there was Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis. Um... what? Slightly less weird was the Uma Thurman/Gary "Sid Vicious" Oldman connection. Homegirls were hitched when Uma was only 20 years old and Gary had not yet made cinematic history with his pivotal role in the cinematic classic, Tiptoes.

Are you aware of this film? If not, you should familiarize yourself with it, stat. It features Matthew McConaughey and Gary Oldman as twins. Not only are they visibly like 20 years apart in age, but Gary makes a brave choice here and plays a midget. Matt's midget twin brother. Walking around on his knees, not unlike Dorf. It's all quite extraordinary. Thrown in for good measure is a cornrowed Patsy Arquette, Kate Beckinsale and real-life midget Peter Dinklage. He also makes a brave choice by playing a Frenchman with what might be the worst fake French accent since that guy who called Sarah Palin pretending to be the King of France. I hope I'm not giving anything away, here. It's really a must-see.

Border Follies.

2009-09-29T20:25:00.002-04:00

Here's a fact: when you flee Canada for the U.S. via plane, they make you go through U.S. customs in Canada.

In Toronto, for instance, you go into the airport, expecting to proceed through the metal detectors and on to your gate and the opportunity to buy duty-free perfume and tobacco, but no. First you're confronted with a bunch of signs saying "U.S. Customs Checkpoint" and a line about 7 billion people long. If you've been up all weekend chugging maple syrup and searching desperately for moose, being confronted by all of this is a bit disorienting.

To complete the tableau and create the illusion that you're really about to cross the border, the stations are manned by surly, unsmiling customs people. Just in case you still have doubts that you've actually left Canada (even though you're still in Toronto), a miniature Statue of Liberty flanked by two crooked American flags with a sad "Welcome to the United States" banner draped in between is the first thing you see after your passport (no longer) gets stamped. Like that's going to fool anyone. "Look kids, it's the statue of Liberty! We must be in NEW YORK CITY!" All I wanted to know was, can I still unload some of this money with beavers on it?

Fat Joe

2009-09-18T18:17:00.004-04:00

I normally limit my reality TV dating show viewing only to shows with the word "Joe" in the title: Average Joe, Joe Millionaire, Outback Joe, Joe Cruise, The Littlest Groom... Then I discovered More to Love, which is evidently like a big-boned version of The Bachelor. The Bachelor's chunky cousin, if you will: a smarmy, husky fella dates a bunch of ample ladies then has to give one an engagement ring at the end. In between, we're treated to the stats of each trick, including name, hometown, age and of course, weight. Classy!

In between, there's a lot of boring dates involving rich desserts; forcing insecure, plus-sized women to appear in swim wear on national TV; labored breathing; and making out. Herein lies the problem (because obviously, the problem is not that this is a show that exploits the overweight while purporting to "empower" them, as Daisy of Love purports to empower hookers): the sounds of mastication and of sucking on one another's faces are not hot. Slurping, swallowing, sucking melted cheese out of one another's teeth - it's gross no matter who's doing it. And because the producers wanted to remind us that HEY THESE PEOPLE LOOOVE EATING! there was an inordinate amount of it on More to Love.

On the plus side (no pun intended), M2L marked the triumphant return of Emme, who is like the plus-sized version of one Ms. Janice Dickinson, minus The Crazy, probable Quaalude addiction and botched plastic surgery. Emme was the "hostess" of M2L, meaning that at the end of each episode when it was time for the smarmy guy to boot off one in his stable of women, she came out of nowhere wearing some rag that looked like a castoff from Dancing with the Stars to like, announce that he was about to kick someone out, then swiftly pivoted and stalked off without further explanation. Way to get that cash, Emme! Bravo. It was actually kind of awesome.

Cry & Cut.

2009-09-09T20:51:00.003-04:00

In the grand tradition of formerly comedic television actresses who now weep on commercials featuring starving children, I bring you Laurie Metcalf:

Remember when she was funny as Jackie on 'Roseanne'? Yeah, not anymore. Is the intent here to make me want to help this poor kid or punch her in the face? Because I'm leaning toward the latter. Pull yourself together. Starving children doesn't call for smiles, but would it kill you to stop sobbing and maybe put on some blush while you're at it? Sally Struthers made the effort - you should, too.

And if you think that's bad, check out the photo on her Wikipedia page. WTF is going on there? For real. She was 53 when this picture was taken, not 83 as her hair would lead you to believe. Why would you go into a salon and get the "Queen Elizabeth"? It's a hot mess, minus the hot.

Getting Perspective.

2009-09-04T17:25:00.006-04:00

Sad news: some dog that was like, in the running towards becoming the World's Smallest Dog, died. That's a bummer, because it was cute and its name was "Scooter", which was also the name of my favorite tertiary character on the original Degrassi Jr. High series (the Canadian one, eh?). He was like the original Urkel. But I digress.

Anyway, Scooter (dog form) was totally adorable, but just how small was this dog? I need a picture of it being held by some sort of standard-sized human hand so that I can do a compare and contrast. The only pictures I could find were that of Scooter in a tea cup (shown here) with the disembodied head of I guess his owner. This tells me nothing. That could be one of those big-ass cups you put ice cream in when you're trying to tell yourself that it's somehow less than if you just used a bowl.

Then the other picture was of scooter with the world's largest dog or something, which I suppose is approximately the size of a small elephant. I just want some perspective, here. Would this dog have fit in my pocket? Somehow if it did, it makes me miss it more.

All Roads Lead to Charo.

2009-08-18T19:28:00.003-04:00

Don't get it twisted: I love, love, The Golden Girls, like any person of sound mind should. But one thing troubles me: if Sophia Petrillo came to the United States as a teenager, why is she rockin' a Brooklyn accent and not a Sicilian drawl? I know people who have been here for 50+ years who are still barely comprehesible (I'm looking at you, Charo.) What gives?

Speaking of Charo, did you know she is literally like 150 years old? Not really, but she claims to be 10 years younger than she actually is (ahem, Catherine Zeta-Jones.) Charo married some guy 44 years her senior when she was 20. Obviously, he was charmed by her killer flamenco guitar-playing skillz. But maybe not so much by her lip-syncing:

She also coined the phrase "cuchi cuchi," which is as profound as it is useful. Plus, she was on all the best shows, including but not limited to The Love Boat, Hollywood Squares and Chico and the Man and recently made an appearance on VH-1's train wreck Ru Paul's Drag Race, which before I saw it, I was hoping was about drag queens operating motor vehicles. She also naturally pioneered the "duck lips" look long before Meg Ryan, Melanie Griffith and Jay Mohr's piece co-opted it. Charo looks like a pekingese, but is working it. Bravo, Charo. Or shall I say, "Cuchi cuchi?" Cuchi cuchi, Charo. Cuchi cuchi.

Alle-Gore-y.

2009-08-13T23:29:00.007-04:00

I was all set to go off on Lesley Gore and her horrifying '50's anthems "It's My Party" and the gross follow-up "Judy's Turn to Cry".

If you are unfamiliar with quintessential '50's Americana and your parents never forced you to listen to the oldies station during every single car trip you ever took, "It's My Party" is all about this sap (Lesley) who has a birthday party and invites both friend Judy and dreamy Johnny, who then rudely decide to get it on together, much to Lesley's chagrin! Her response is to boo-hoo and then act petulant ("You would cry, too, if it happened to you." Probably. Either that or give both of them the tasering of a lifetime.)

Then she follows up with "Judy's Turn to Cry." Here's where I have a real problem: instead of being ticked at Johnny for making out with her friend Judy AT LESLEY'S OWN PARTY, Lesley wins back the loathsome cad's affections and then sneers at poor Judy, who's left alone and humiliated. Basically, this jerk Johnny gets to make out with two ladies, then gets off scot-free while they fight over him for no discernible reason. I think something similar may have happened on Flavor of Love. Only with more expletives and less clothing.

But after a little research, I got schooled - Lesley redeemed herself somewhat with the deadly serious anthem "You Don't Own Me" in which she tells off some jerk who thinks he can control what she does and says and uses her as arm candy. Then Lesley later came out as a lesbian, which may not make her music any more enjoyable, but makes an exploration of all her earlier work that much more interesting, given the context and era. Who knew?!

Lesley has also got some killer dance moves:

Carrie Sadshaw.

2009-08-09T00:19:00.006-04:00

When you're getting limited-time-only, free HBO, sometimes you feel obligated to watch it. Even if the only thing on is this Sex in the City movie.

First of all, what the hell is the name of it? "Sex AND the city" or "IN the City"? It doesn't really matter because it sucks for many reasons. Not the least of which is this hideous Carrie Bradshaw character. Like, hideous. Personality-wise and aesthetically speaking. Listen, I'm all for unconventional beauty, and I loved SJP in Square Pegs, but I'm drawing the line here. And it's not helping that they're putting her in the world's most ridiculous outfits. I'm all for sartorial commentary, too, but come on. ENOUGH, ALREADY. Hooking up pajama bottoms, pearls, a t-shirt, stiletto ankle boots, a fur and a SPANGLED BEANIE? You lost me at the pearls.

Even more infuriating is the fact that this character is like, a loser. I'm sorry. It's true. Running after that creepy "Big" dude with the Count Chocula eyebrows and then being ecstatically happy with the pathetic scraps of attention he throws her way every now and again? GAG. The best part of the movie [SPOILER ALERT] is when she plans some cockamamie wedding that involves her wearing some dress that is like 150 sizes too big in the boobs and he leaves at the altar. YES! But then he wins her scrawny ass back by being too lazy to actually write her a love letter and just ripping off some famous ones from history, then sending them to her via EMAIL (!) with some lame ass note like, "Sorry I screwed up." And she's like, "He really does care." WHAT?! Because he sent a freakin' email containing plagiarized material?

I can't take it. Who am I supposed to relate to, here? What am I missing?

Spoils of War.

2009-08-07T16:46:00.005-04:00

Been waiting for the opportunity to wash that man right out of your hair AND cash in during these Troubled Economic Times? You're in luck:

Um, what? There's a lot going on here. Let's review:
1. Talking dogs.
2. Talking dogs who get their hair did at "Le Bistro". A cafe/dog groomer? Does not meet the health code.
3. Talking dogs with bling.
4. Talking, web-savvy dogs.
5. Good-for-nothing oglers.
5. Talking, web-savvy dogs who control their masters and then benefit financially from the behavior of good-for-nothing oglers though the acquisition of bejeweled dog accessories.

The tag line "break up with his jewelry, too" was the only part of this I heard when I first encountered this commercial. I was like, "Why are these women dating men who wear so much jewelry? Who are they dating? Mr. T? Liberace?"

Lashing Out.

2009-08-04T18:17:00.006-04:00

Is there an epidemic of "eyelash inadequacy" sweeping the nation? Are people gnashing their teeth and wailing because their eyelashes simply aren't long or thick enough? According to the drug company that makes "Latisse", yes.

"Inadequate" lashes? "Not enough lashes"? Why are they being so judgmental? I can see if you had to undergo chemo or something and lost your eyelashes. Or if your lids are like, stark raving nude. But to get a prescription to help you grow eyelashes thicker? Is that covered under your health insurance plan?

Let's take a look at the possible side effects:

May cause eyelid skin darkening which may be reversible, and there is potential for increased brown iris pigmentation which is likely to be permanent.

So basically, you use this stuff and you could end up looking like Randy Constan.

Edible Infants.

2009-07-27T21:05:00.007-04:00

You know how they can take a picture now and stick it on a cake? Yeah, that's weird. Like it's Grandpa's 75th birthday and here you are at the family party, eating part of his chin or working your way through his right arm. Festive.

Well, that's nothing. Because I was recently made aware of the 100% horrifying marzipan babies phenomenon. Like, miniature, realistic-looking babies THAT ARE MADE OUT OF SUGAR AND ARE EDIBLE. And evidently, twisted freaks like to give them out to nosh upon at baby showers.

I have good news. Turns out, I'm like five years behind the times and this all turned out to be a nasty rumor. I Snopes-ed it out and they're actually just these weird little figurines that some artist makes. Which, really, is kind of bizarre enough in itself. Weirder still is that I checked out the website and for some reason (read: to make an extra buck), you can buy little outfits for these mini babies and dress them up. What is the scenario like where someone is sitting around doing that? At least they're not eating them, I guess.

Bathroom Attendance.

2009-07-21T22:28:00.005-04:00

Oh, man. There are lots of crappy-ass jobs out there: crab fisherperson, proctologist, uninsured day-laborer... But one of the worst has to be that of bathroom attendant.

Ugh. The fact that someone has to spend their entire day in a public bathroom is almost too depressing to bear. I can think of fewer places I'd rather be. I mean, it beats like, living in a box or whatever worst case horrible situation you can think of, for sure, but man...

And as a human who needs to use the bathroom from time to time, I'm also kind of resentful that in order to attend to an unstoppable biological need, I am forced to be confronted with an awkward situation which ALSO includes tipping, to make it that much more awkward. Some people have "shy bladders", you know. If someone is in that bathroom with them, it just prolongs the transaction. And I can actually get my own paper towel, but I sincerely thank you for offering one to me. I'll also pass on the perfume, but thanks again. And if I'm at this event or whatever for longer than 2 hours, I'll probably be seeing you several times. Do we need to go through this dance each time? And should I leave a tip each time? I'm running out of singles.

I just hate everything about it. It gives me the sads. Thoughts?

Umbrella-ella-ella.

2009-07-14T13:04:00.004-04:00

As if it's not bad enough trying to dodge becoming a cyclops via an errant umbrella spoke in the eyeball during a downpour, now chumps are using umbrellas to protect themselves from the sun. I place the blame for this alarming trend firmly on Jacko, who was fond of this type of nonsense.

Listen: if you're not sitting outdoors somewhere at a table with a hole in it or laying on a beach, there's no call for this type of behavior. And if you're going to insist on pulling a Morticia Aadams and strutting around with one of these damn parasols, how about not poking my eyes out while you protect your precious alabaster complexion?

Or better yet, put down the stupid umbrella, be normal and develop melanoma like the rest of us.

The Pro-NO-sal.

2009-07-01T20:17:00.003-04:00

Don't you hate it when you go to a picturesque cabin with your hotass coworker who you're pretending to be married to so you can get a green card because you're Canadian and it turns out that you are both single and lonely and the only thing keeping you apart (besides you being a Canadian) is your pride and dedication to maintaining your reputation as a hard-edged businesswoman and then when you're in the cabin, you and your hotass coworker both suddenly - whoops!- find yourselves accidentally nude and on top of one another and then like, maybe Cloris Leachman or Murphy Brown pops her head in and says something bawdy and then you realize that you're really in love after all and screw the USA and its stupid green card laws, you're moving to Canada with your hotass coworker who is now your husband?

I hate when that happens.

You have now officially seen that new Sandy Bullock/Guy Who is Married to Scarlett Jojoba and Who is Ironically Canadian in Real Life movie. You're welcome.

Miracle-Whipped.

2009-06-30T19:40:00.007-04:00

Have you seen these new Miracle Whip commercials? You must click on the hyperlink because it is ri.donk.u.lous. The premise is that Miracle Whip is the most badass condiment to hit the streets since freakin' Grey Poupon so WATCH OUT, MOFOS.

Are you kidding me? MIRACLE WHIP being posited as some kind of cutting edge flavor-enhancer? This has got to be some kind of meta-joke, right? Because as far as I'm aware, Miracle Whip is a discount mayonnaise knockoff.

And we don't even have to talk about how amazing mayo is. It is manna from heaven. No ifs, ands or buts. Show me a snack more delicious than mayo on a piece of white bread. You can't, because it doesn't exist. Mayo is the world's most perfect foodstuff, and this Miracle Whip nonsense is some kind of cruel joke. "Salad dressing"?! Are you for real? What does that even mean? Why do I need "salad dressing" on my sandwich? I don't, so get it out of my face.

The Gary Busey Story.

2009-06-29T19:15:00.005-04:00

What's up with Gary Busey? Is he rockin' a glass eye, or what?

I know he got all messed up when he broke his ass falling off a motorcycle back in '88 after freewheelin' down the highway. He wiped out. Girlfriend didn't have a helmet on and dented his head. So maybe that explains the eye, but that still leaves the Mystery of Busey's Teeth. They're real, right? Because why would you get fake teeth that look like that? "Give me the Mr. Ed." It just doesn't happen, not even in Buseyland. Plus, his son seems to have inherited that mouth. Have you seen him? This poor guy...it's not pretty.

You'd think people would take one look at Gary today and start wearing helmets like, ALL THE TIME, just as a precautionary measure against becoming Gary Busey. It's not nice to make fun of the cognitively impaired, but really, he seems like kind of a jerk. Not sure if this is a direct result of the noggin floggin' or if he was a jerk to begin with, but, there you go.

Feelin' Blue.

2009-06-22T22:21:00.005-04:00

There needs to be more blue foods. Even as a kid, you had to be aware that (maybe due to their scarcity) blue foods were always the best and most delicious: Booberry cereal, any cupcakes with blue icing, the blue sno-kone...

Back in my day, they didn't even have blue M&M's (they replaced the lame tan M&M back in 1995) or blue Jolly Ranchers. What is up with that? Like, no one realized that BLUE is way more fun to eat than freakin' TAN? Was there some poison in the blue dye that no one was talking about? Why did it take the food industry so long to wise up? And now that the coast seems to be clear, can we have more blue foods, please? I'll eat them. And don't talk to me about blueberries. I KNOW ABOUT BLUEBERRIES, OKAY?

Another thing: there should be more blue types of plant life, like flowers. How many blue flowers do you see around? Maybe the occasional cornflower. And don't talk to me about some weirdass flower that only grows in Australia. It's not doing me any good.

Then they try to pass off these flowers that are actually more purple as being blue. Let's get it straight: I didn't just fall off the turnip truck. Don't show me something that's black and tell me it's navy.

Chumps on a Plane.

2009-06-20T19:36:00.005-04:00

Remember when airplane travel was fun? Instead of taking a car or boat like some sucker with unlimited vacation time, you boarded an iron eagle and swiftly were transported to your destination. Along the way, a crew of smiling air hosts and hostesses helped you find room for your bags and kept the free snacks and drinks coming. It was a magical journey to Happyland.

Now, not so much. You wait around in a hideous airport for the prescribed two hours, then have to wait around some more because the stupid plane is always late for some dumb reason.

By the time you actually get on the plane and wedge yourself in your cramped seat, your hatred for humanity has grown to gargantuan proportions. Come on, you disoriented yokel, TAKE A SEAT SO I CAN GET BY YOU. Lady, if you're too weak to lift your carry on bag, which will clearly never fit in the overhead anyway, THEN YOU'VE PACKED TOO MUCH. Check your stupid luggage.

Once you get going, it's no better. Hey, guy in business suit: the flight time is 27 minutes. Is it really necessary for you to order A FREAKIN' SCOTCH, make the flight attendant go find a bottle, then root around in vain to find change for the $50 bill you're shoving her way? Can you like, maybe NOT DRINK FOR 27 MINUTES? Also, person in front of me: would it be possible for you to not fully recline your seat during the meal service? This ain't ancient Rome: trying to digest while supine is not recommended. Finally, to the jerks in first class: we're not allowed to use your precious bathroom, so don't come parading out from behind that stupid mesh curtain to go use ours in coach. This is class warfare and you're not welcome on our plebeian turf.

I love to travel, but getting there is becoming none of the fun.

Wigging Out.

2009-06-11T17:20:00.009-04:00

In the words of the immortal Nigel Tufnel, with certain things, sometimes it's "best [to] leave it...unsolved." Case in point: the mystery of Phil Spector's lid. The recently convicted murderer and music legend has treated us lo these past four years or so to an array of fantastic hairdos the likes of which have not been seen since a 1987 stroll through the Mall of America.

From the Bride of Frankenstein to the Carol Brady, his locks were seriously amazing, and I was happy to leave it at that. Maybe I fleetingly wondered how exactly the hairdos occurred: is there a warehouse in the wig district of some far-flung city filled with these exquisite follicular specimens? If so, can I visit it and is there a discount for buying in bulk?

Then, this happened:
...and suddenly, the party was over. We took a sharp left from what was simply an innocent visit to Crazytown and drove straight into the darkest corner of Beelzebub's basement. It's a look that is also seriously amazing, but in every wrong way possible. Hold me.

Put a Ring On It.

2009-06-10T21:20:00.005-04:00

Sad news for all the single ladies (all the single ladies): Mr. Mike Tyson is off the market. He married the third in a continuing series of brides (Robin Givens, some other broad, and this woman) this week.

Really? A third person is willing to marry Mike Tyson? I don't know - perhaps he's a nice guy. A nice guy with a history of violence inside and outside of the ring and a rape conviction who has a penchant for threatening to eat other people's children. I mean, who hasn't been there, right? If I had a dime for all the kids I've threatened to consume... but that's another story for another day. I know there's this movie out, Tyson, that's supposed to make us feel bad for him for being some dumbass kid who was abused and manipulated, but you know - not so much.

On another note, now that they're doing the Saved by the Bell reunion, where is the one for Head of the Class? I miss Jawaharlal.

Organic Panic.

2009-06-05T08:25:00.004-04:00

Few things suck the enjoyment out of a meal faster than being a couple of bites into a green salad, looking down, and realizing the whole thing is infested with aphids (Me: "Did you wash these greens?!" Husband: "They're organic!" Meaning, "No.").

I'm not going to go pro-pesticide, here, mainly because (among other bad things) I'm under the impression that prolonged exposure to them will make you end up looking like the Lady in the Radiator from Eraserhead. But maybe we need to do one of the things Andre was babbling about in My Dinner with Andre and enter into some sort of peace talks with the insect world whereby we set up designated insect infestation areas and they leave the rest of the crops alone. Or maybe we just need to wash the organic salad thoroughly from now on.

To do this weekend: rent Eraserhead, My Dinner with Andre and Mannequin Two. The last is just for good measure.

Literally Hilarious.

2009-06-01T21:09:00.003-04:00

The annoying part about finding something you like on the internet? Five hours after searching for and watching similar items on the You's Tube, you realize you could have been doing something productive - like watching a "Golden Girls" marathon.

Gnome Domes.

2009-05-28T18:32:00.006-04:00

While innocently perusing the internet in search of an appropriate, gardening-related Father's Day gift, I happened upon this gem: the venerable Mooning Gnome.

You must read the reviews, for they contain high levels of hilarity:

I got the mooning gnome as a christmas gift and it is my least favorite. It is smaller than the standard gnome and made of plastic. I live in Vegas and after two summers my gnome lost all color and turned a grayish black color. You get what you pay for and as a gag this is kind of fun but to a gnome collector it cheapens your yard.

Yes, the poor quality of the pantsless gnome is what is cheapening the yard, not the fact that there is, in fact, a dwarf with his ass hanging out stationed there.

Mooning Gnome too gauche? Try the item "Frequently Bought Together" with it: the Squatting Gnome. Nothing conveys an air of sophistication and elegance quite like a tableau of a miniature man defecating on one's lawn. Majestic!

The Baby Bunch.

2009-05-27T18:19:00.006-04:00

What is with this fascination with people who have hundreds of kids? "Jon and Kate Plus Eight," "18 and Counting," "Table for 12," the Octo-Mom... where does it end?!

Is this just another example of our general fascination with excess? Like, the human extension of shows like "Cribs," "My Super Sweet 16," etc., where more is more and there is no such thing as too much? Or is it some sort of weird celebration of traditional conservative values (not so much with the Octo-Mom, there): home, family, kids, kids and more kids? It's like a modern-day "Waltons." But with shoes and without John-Boy. And real.

Is it a matter of schadenfreude, as we watch these parents try and wrangle their gaggles of kids, secretly thinking they're a bunch of freaks and laughing as their kids destroy their homes? Or watching how having so many damn toddlers is destroying their marriage (Jon and Kate)?

How can they afford to have this many freakin' kids, anyway?! I'm guessing it might be at least largely dependent upon the dough they're pulling in for pimping the kids out by having a TV crew follow their every move. So basically, they're getting rewarded for overpopulating an already overpopulated planet and we're helping them along by watching. Or maybe they can afford them just fine and just want to showcase their lives. Would it be so heartwarming if there was a show about a poor family who kept popping out kids like there's no tomorrow? That's who could use the TV show cash. Let's give that a whirl and see how it goes over.

Sick as a Dog.

2009-05-21T18:42:00.004-04:00

I am not a "dog person." And after viewing this repulsive Stanley Steemer commercial, I'm even less of one:
Is this like, common practice among dogs? Like they're not stinky enough already, randomly pooping on the sidewalk and breathing their dog breath all up in your zone, now they'll go ahead and drag their stank butts across your carpet?!

I don't know what this lady did to that dog, but that dog clearly HATES HER GUTS. And it has succeeded in making me totally nauseated.

Who taught this dog how to drag his ass around like that, anyway? I'm going to assume it's that kid, and that this was the result of months of concentrated training efforts. Again, I don't know what this lady did to that kid, but THAT KID HATES HER GUTS.

It's probably safe to assume that the other woman there who was innocently enjoying a cup of tea before being confronted by this horrifying spectacle is thinking, "I can't believe these two hate Mindy even more than I do."

Wearing Out Things that Nobody Wears.

2009-05-19T19:29:00.005-04:00

I'm going to go ahead and say that unless you're Keith Richards or a transvestite, if you're a dude over the age of 30, you should not be wearing eyeliner - or to use the egregious parlance of our times, "guyliner." It's untoward and it makes you look sad, as though clinging to a time when tight leather pants and bad brat-punk pop songs both actually fit you.

The same goes for flat-ironed hair on men. STOP IT (KEITH URBAN). Also, please unhand the frosting wand (if that is, in fact, how streaky, bold highlights are applied to the follicles). This means you, Steven Tyler.

Actually, each of these items applies to poor Steve, who is looking more and more each day like a cross between the old (female) receptionist at my office and a capuchin monkey (of indeterminate sex).

Crimes of Fashion.

2009-05-17T12:04:00.004-04:00

As the immortal George Michael (the singer, not the "Arrested Development" character) once sang, "Sometimes the clothes do not make the man." But you know, sometimes they can make a big difference. Shouldn't dudes know the basics by now?

The following should be avoided:

1. Flip-flops: unless you're entering a Jeff Spicoli lookalike contest, there's no call for unleashing your hooves on the masses. Very few guys have tootsies appropriate for display outside of a sci-fi convention.

2. Jean shorts: why in the name of all that's holy do these still exist? Too short and you look like a low-rent version of the construction worker from the Village People. Too long, and you look like your legs are four inches long. Either way, an epic fail.

3. Trench coats with built-in capes: Is there a louder way to scream "nerd!" to the world than to wear such a thing? Yes, if you hook it up with a white turtleneck.

Drug Store Safari.

2009-05-13T20:29:00.004-04:00

Sometimes those "8 Million Places to go Before you Croak" lists are just plain depressing. Like: oh, great. Here are 900 MORE places I'll never go to, and 400 more activities I never even knew existed that I now feel like I'm missing out on. Goat herding in the Himalyas? Teaching Guyanian orphans sign language and pottery making skills? Sounds great, but I'm barely paying my gas bill.

This is why, in the current economic climate, I prefer to make weekly trips to like, Walgreen's. There's something therapeutic about trolling the aisles, keeping an eye out for those yellow "Clearance" stickers. Pediatric cough medicine that expires in a month? Yes, I need that. Thank you for asking. Dr. Pepper-scented bubble bath at 75% off? Sold. Because buying personal care items and cosmetics is fun, but nabbing them at a steep discount elevates the experience to a whole new level of personal satisfaction. It also explains why I am the owner of about 13 bottles of foundation, none of which come close to matching my skin tone.

But no matter, for a brief few moments (and only a few bucks) while buying each, I take a mental vacation to a place where my complexion is radiant, my smile dazzling, my sinuses clear and my life even more exciting than swimming with dolphins in the Straits of Hormuz. As Liz Lemon would say, “I want to go to there.”

Taxi Driver.

2009-05-12T19:57:00.001-04:00

You'd think, right, that spending one's entire day behind the wheel of a motorized vehicle would make one, at the very least, a competent driver. That this experience would make one aware that city streets are by and large in fact TWO lanes. That inching up through the crosswalk at a red light when you see pedestrians approaching might not be the most courteous maneuver. That having a nine-hour phone call with a fellow cab driver that necessitates wild gesticulations while you're driving may not espouse the notion of putting safety first. Thanks for bucking these assumptions, legions of Philadelphia cab drivers!

I'm sure it's a dangerous job: when you're not dodging your fellow yellow menaces on the road, you've got to worry if the trick you picked up is going to break your ass and steal your wallet. But it begs the question: are bad drivers drawn to being cab drivers or does being a cab driver make one a bad driver? Or a sociopath, for that matter?

Capri-diculous.

2009-05-07T19:26:00.006-04:00

Well, it's that time again: capri season is upon us. A time when those not bold enough to wear shorts and too sweaty to don regular pants decide to half-ass it by slapping on a pair of these aberrations.

WHAT ARE THESE THINGS? Also known as a clam digger, pedal pusher or cankle pants, capris merely serve to visually sever the leg at its most unattractive point: mid calf. Proportionately, the math is all wrong: hiding 2/3 of the leg and showing 1/3? It doesn't work. 98% of the time, the result is a stumpy looking leg with an awkward swath of flesh beneath. They either look like pants that are way too short or shorts that are way too long.

Why do they even make these things? What are they even achieving from a practical, non-fashion standpoint? Letting your ankles breathe? How hot are they getting? And now dudes are wearing them, causing the annoying "manpri" to be incorporated into our vocabulary. Thank goodness the related and horrifying gaucho pant uprising of 2005 was quelled fairly rapidly. When will this capri madness end?

Someone defend these things to me. Am I the only one not getting it?

Celebri-Twins

2009-05-05T19:39:00.005-04:00

Fatman-in-a-hat mainstay Dom Deluise passed away yesterday. He was 75.

He was also one of those guys who looks exactly like another celebrity. In his case, he was a dead ringer (no pun intended) for Chef Paul Prudhomme, the Cajun guy who used to wheel around on a Jazzy shouting, "I guaaaaraaaantee!" Or maybe that was Justin Wilson's line. Anyway, now Paul won't be so easy to confuse with Dom Deluise, since a) Dom has left the building and b) evidently Paul has slimmed down quite a bit.

What was the deal with Dom, anyway? He was famous, but really the only things I know about him are that he was friends with Burt Reynolds and his kid was the least-sexy cast member of "21 Jump Street".

Dom and Paul are but one celebrity pair I tend to confuse with one another. Other examples include: John Fogarty and Harrison Ford, Samuel L. Jackson and Larry Fishburne and Nick Nolte and Gary Busey.

RIP, Dom.

M. Needsahit Shyamalan

2009-05-04T18:00:00.011-04:00

M. Night Shyamalan-a-ding-dong is shooting his new movie in some big-ass soundstage/airplane hangar down at the Naval Shipyard in Philadelphia.

It's called The Last Airbender. What? I don't know what that means, but at at least (unlike most of his other films), the title doesn't immediately call to mind an annoying song from yesteryear. Examples:

1. Unbreakable ("Un-break me, my sweet un-breakable you" - come on, use your imagination - or worse yet, the egregious Toni Braxton's "Un-break My Heart". Did you know that she's got a kid named Denim and one named Diezel? Amazing!)
2. Signs (by the stupidly named Canadian outfit Five Man Electrical Band and later covered by the formidable and staunchly not-Canadian band Tesla)
3. The Happening (so quintessentially '60s that just listening to it makes you feel like an honorary Supreme, complete with incredible asymmetrical bouffant)
4. The Lady in the Water (which calls to mind that PJ Harvey "Not Without My Daughter" Sally Field tribute song)

None of these were as big of a hit as The Sixth Sense, which does not immediately call to mind a song, so here's hoping this Airbender nonsense follows suit.

Moving at Midnight.

2009-05-03T21:55:00.003-04:00

Did it become socially acceptable at some point to MOVE (either in or out of an apartment) at midnight? Just wondering, because this is what the bowling neighbors upstairs, who had been pogo-ing nightly on my head, did the other night. Don't get it twisted: not having to listen to anything other than the occasional random drunk or abusive parent screeching out in the street has been nothing less than a precious gift, more beautiful than a unicorn's tears. But come on - midnight? On a Thursday? And it's not like they were skipping out on the rent: Landlord confirmed they were indeed gone since their lease was up May 1.

At my last apartment, my jackass neighbors moved IN at midnight. Pulled the U-Haul right up and began unloading, yelling to one another, rolling hand trucks around, the whole nine. (Practically) in the middle of the night. In the middle of the week. In the middle of the city, where there are like, you know, other people around.

Is moving at midnight the new black?

Hell on Heels.

2009-04-30T18:30:00.005-04:00

Here's a tip, ladies: No matter how cute the shoes, if you look like a mentally challenged dog on 'ludes walking on its hind legs while you're wearing them, it's going to ruin the effect. I've seen women on the stroll, obviously hoping to mix and mingle, sporting jacked up walks like this:

This kid does it better.

Fwine Slu.

2009-04-27T20:44:00.004-04:00

Swine flu. Great. Like we need something else to worry about. Now every time some germbag sneezes on the street without covering up their pie-hole (which is like, at least six times a day), we're going to have to flee in the opposite direction, covering up our faces, Blanket Jackson-style.

While the King of Europe is telling people there not to come here or to go to Mexico (Canada seems to have escaped the North American stigma), new reports are coming in every 10 minutes, it seems. The last one I read had 73 confirmed cases worldwide: - worldwide. I could be crazy, but that doesn't seem like that much, given the billions of people in the world.

Just tell me whether I need to relocate to a yurt in Montana until this blows over, or what.

Thank You for Being a Friend.

2009-04-25T19:15:00.004-04:00

Could this be like, the worst day ever? Sadly, Bea Arthur passed away. The woman was 86 and a national treasure.

You know, she was 86 so it's not exactly tragic, but still - she was one of those people you just kind of felt better knowing was around. And not because at 5'10" with the voice of a gangster she could probably scare off potential attackers - it's because no one could deliver a zinger with withering acidity and impeccable comedic timing quite like Bea. From "Maude" to "The Golden Girls", Bea kept us in stitches and herself in a neverending array of sack-like schmattes.

Farewell, Bea - the world is better for having had you in it. You know she's pointing in the direction she's headed in this pic.

P.S. I just read that in 1996, Bea was on "Judge [freakin'] Judy", called as a witness to a defendant who was somehow affiliated with PETA. I NEED TO SEE THIS. If you can track down a video clip, please post it below!

Restaurant Woes.

2009-04-24T18:03:00.006-04:00

Dear Website of Any Number of Finer Dining Establishments:

First of all, kudos on the intro/landing page. I would really much rather wait for your graphic-heavy site to load than to actually get to the menu. Also, good choice on the faux classic jazz sound file that accompanies the sliding images and swirling colors that have nothing at all to do with your food. Bravo!

Also, thanks for not listing the prices. Who wants to think about money when they're trying to plan an evening out? Losers, that's who! I really prefer to have absolutely no clue if I'm going to need to sit in the dark for a few days in order to be able to afford your saffron infused "hot dogs" with truffle oil. The saffron says expensive, but the hot dogs scream "plebeian!" Thanks for keeping my mind sharp with such brain teasers.

Finally, your decision to not list your hours and make your street address nearly impossible to find? BRILLIANT! If I'm going to have the privilege of dining at your establishment, it only makes sense that I'm going to have to work to find it and figure out what time you might open and close. Thanks for putting me in my place.

Love,

Liz

Gross-plait.

2009-04-22T17:47:00.005-04:00

I could be biased from my experience toiling in a dry cleaning establishment for a couple of (nauseatingly hot) summers, but it seems to me the chick in this Yoplait commercial is being a total d-wad to this seamstress lady for no apparent reason.

Here's the synopsis: wad lady enters a dry cleaner where she confronts a portly seamstress and mentions that because of all of the Boston cream pie and apple turnovers she's been inhaling, she needs her pants to be taken in. "Out?" says the puzzled seamstress. "No, in, you a-hole," says the d-wad.

Why would a person in any plane of reality would do this? Go in, mention you've been eating truckloads of key lime pie, never mention that it's freakin' yogurt, and then act like someone is a dope for not understanding why this would result in weight loss. To simultaneously flaunt your figure and make some random lady who is forced to work in 1,000 degree temperatures feel dumb?

P.S. It's nice and all that Yoplait does that whole "save your yogurt lid to fight breast cancer" thing, but man - whose job is it to gather up and count the pre-licked lids!? Gross. They should make the wad lady do it.

Well, Suuuuumimasen.

2009-04-21T21:19:00.005-04:00

In some countries, it's perfectly acceptable to make bodily contact with strangers. Things can get crowded and stuff happens. You might find yourself being shoved into a subway car, your thighs getting intimately familiar with the contents of a stranger's pockets. Or you punch someone in the face during a soccer riot. That's just the way it is. I'm not judging. I'm celebrating the moments of our lives.

But that's not how it works here, to my knowledge. You bump into somebody, and there's a certain ritual that ensues:

BUMPER: Oops, excuse me. Sorry.
BUMPEE: Excuse me.
or
BUMPEE: That's OK.
or
BUMPEE: [discreet silence]

Nowhere is it prescribed that someone bumps into you, yells, "Owww!" you say "I'm sorry!" although it CLEARLY was not your fault, they make pain face, you say sorry again and then mention the fact that THEY bumped into YOU and then they look at you while rubbing their arm that's in a cast [which clearly should be more carefully protected by the owner and not be bandied about, in an athletic setting, all willy-nilly], LADY AT THE GYM TODAY. Grr.

Lovin' Lifetime.

2009-04-20T20:43:00.004-04:00

Even though I've had the distinct honor of having watched "The Invisible Child" (Tom Hanks' wife thinks she has a kid that doesn't exist and everyone goes along with it!), I'm still coming late to the party that is The Lifetime Original Movie.

Seriously, they're soooooo good. The one on yesterday afternoon ("Her Only Child") featured the girl who played the older daughter on "The Nanny" and some lady who looks crazy when the occasion calls for it (e.g. being in a Lifetime Original Movie). Nanny Girl finds a hot piece and crazy mom freaks out because that means the end of her being the center of Nanny Girl's attention. So mom does stuff like poisoning the Nanny Girl's dog in a bid to keep her close! I hope I'm not giving anything away. Let's just say it all ends up with inappropriate work attire, gunplay and a stint in a psych ward.

During the whole mess, they were advertising something called "Unbalanced", which is premiering on Lifetime next Saturday night at 9:00pm. I don't know what that is, but I'm pretty sure that title can apply to each and every made-for-TV movie ever shown on that network. I can't wait to stumble across the next one.

In a Pickle.

2009-04-18T22:06:00.004-04:00

In these, our Tough Economic Times, it's nice to get something for nothing. When dining out, getting a little something extra on the house is nice: say, an orange wedge on your brunch plate, a carved radish with your Thai food or a little plastic cup a of coleslaw with your burger.

But you know, not everyone likes pickles. And some people REALLY hate it when they order a delicious grilled cheese sandwich and it arrives SITTING IN A POOL OF TEPID PICKLE JUICE. It's untoward.

The Dreaded Sing-Along.

2009-04-16T19:04:00.005-04:00

Can we all just agree that few things are less necessary or more embarrassing than sing along scenes in movies?

You've been there: you're watching some (usually sub par but morbidly fascinating) movie and here it comes - a scene in the film where suddenly, everyone thinks it would be a great time to all bust out their rendition of some overplayed oldies song. Think that "Say a Little Prayer" scene from "My Best Friend's Wedding", Tom Cruise warbling "You've Lost that Loving Feeling" in "Top Gun", a bunch of yuppies prancing around a kitchen, singing "Ain't Too Proud to Beg" (how could you, Jeff Goldblum?) in "The Big Chill"... Gross.

How would you react if people did this in real life? You're in some bar and a bunch of drunks start singing along to "Can't Get Next to You" and dancing around the room. You'd run out screaming (and hopefully at least try and taze a couple of of them on your way out the door.) Or like, you were over at your chronically single friend's house and she started dancing around in her undies, belting out "I Will Survive"? You'd either stage an intervention or stop returning her calls.

Anyway, please, no more of these. They're embarrassing for everyone involved and make people hate Otis Redding unnecessarily.

Pukey in Pink.

2009-04-14T20:40:00.004-04:00

"What about prom, Blaine? WHAT ABOUT PROM!?"

This post was just going to be about how annoying it is that the definite article ("the") is left out of the sentences above. Why isn't it "the prom"? Is it like Christmas? It comes yearly so you don't need to qualify it? To me, it sounds wrong. So stop it.

But in remembering "Pretty in Pink", I'm recalling how irritating that movie is:

1. Blaine is a loser who always looks like he's going to cry. What's the appeal? Oh right - he's rich.
2. Ducky is clearly gay and therefore Andie is right not to waste her time helping him discover this. Let some other gal live with the trauma of thinking she turned her boyfriend gay.
3. Still, though, Ducky and Andie should have gotten together at the end. Like we're supposed to believe this random chick at "prom" was all turned on by his pompadour, BOLO TIE and spats? Come on.
4. Pretty sure it's a basic rule of fashion that redheads should generally avoid pink. And for good reason.
5. Speaking of, wtf was up with that prom dress? Annie Potts looked way hotter in the original version of the frock, which Andie then hacks up into that polka-dotted mess that's shaped like an inverted triangle, topped off with pink lace. Are you for real with that thing?
6. On the subject of Annie Potts: way to totally give up your individuality so you can date some chump who owns a pet store. Trading in your various wigs and awesome vintage clothes for a freakin' blazer with 9 foot wide shoulder pads? Ugh.
7. Andie's dad = totally annoying. Get a job.

The only things I like about this movie: Andie's car and James Spader.

Chimp Chumps.

2009-04-13T20:32:00.004-04:00

Is there anything more '70's than chimps dressed up in miniature people clothes?

Seems like there was a rash of chimps-as-sidekicks entertainment being churned out around that time. We're talking Clint Eastwood playing second banana (har dee har har) to a monkey in "Every Which Way But Loose", "BJ and the Bear" and "Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp", to name a few.

Then there were those hideous chimp posters where various simians were dressed in novelty clothing (tennis gear, business attire, Sherlock Holmes outfit), curling back their lips in some sort of grimace to expose miles and miles of gums and chimp teeth. Gross.

I hate it when they put chimps in clothing, but let me tell you: I LOVE it when they put wigs on them. It's instantly hilarious. I don't pretend to know why.

Bed, Bath and Beyonce.

2009-04-12T20:40:00.004-04:00

Have we had about enough with this Beyonce lady? Why is she still being thrust upon us? Do they expect us to look beyond her dead eyes? Beyond the hideous fishtail dresses she inserts herself into for every awards show, from Kid's Choice to the Oscars? Beyond this Sasha Fierce alter ego nonsense? Shouldn't you have your own personality first, before you go adopting a new one?

The lights aren't on, and no one is home. Plus, her music is all crescendo with NO payoff. Build, build, build and... nothing. Also, enough with the wigs. Who does she think she is, Tyra? No one should have that much hair. Ever. Except maybe Solange.

Having said all of that, I cannot wait to see "Obsessed". From the trailer, it looks like "Fatal Attraction", but racial! It will be undoubtedly awful, hopefully rising to levels of brilliance not seen since Madge took to the silver screen in "Swept Away".

'Tashmanian Devils.

2009-04-08T18:34:00.005-04:00

Some dudes' mugs just cry out to be adorned with facial hair. While an ill-advised mustache can be a dangerous thing, conjuring up the obligatory porn star or child molester comparisons, a well-placed crop of facial hair can disguise a myriad of problems. Weak chin? Slap a van dyke over your shame. No lips? Cover that mess up with a big ole push broom. Burn victim? Grow some crap over those scars - no one will realize you're horribly disfigured! It's like magic.

Some men whose facial hair was really working for them have inexplicably decided to ditch the stubble, presumably to "update" their look. Big mistake. Here is a list of men who need to grow it all back as soon as possible:

1. Alex Trebek
2. Tom Selleck
3. Kenny Loggins
4. Local nerd/weather man Hurricane Schwartz
5. John Oates, late of Hall and Oates

Who else?

Variation on a Theme.

2009-04-07T19:29:00.002-04:00

Remember when TV theme songs explained the show you were about to watch? Like, if you were in the dark as to what "My Mother the Car" was about, all you had to do was listen to the theme song. It was almost a courtesy to the viewer: "Oh, this show is about a dude whose mom is a 1928 Porter? I thought it was going to be about a lovable black orphan. Next!"

Do they do this anymore? Aside from spoofs? Considering that the titles of six of the ten top rated shows from last week were acronyms (CSI, ER, CSI Guam, NCIS, ACM Awards, NCAA Championship) it might help me get a handle on what, say, "NCIS" is about. That title sucks. It sounds like a federal tax form. NCISuck. A little ditty explaining the concept would go a long way.

Superfood.

2009-04-06T20:23:00.002-04:00

If (and when) left to my own devices, my diet consists mostly of saltines, mayo and/or peanut butter, chocolate covered espresso beans and the occasional pint of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food. If I have to go so far as to construct some sort of a meal, forget it. I don't know what goes with what and I'm not trying to dirty any dishes.

So when I heard about these "superfoods" my initial plan was to eat them and only them. Then I'd be getting maximum nutrients with minimal effort, right? Except the "superfood" list I came up with consisted only of kale, berries of any kind, quinoa, probiotics and seaweed. I'm not really into any of these items. Next.

Why can't superfood consist of butter, Cocoa Puffs, and those toasted coconut-covered marshmallows they sell around Passover? Have you had the latter? Because they are awesome.

Shush Thy Neighbor.

2009-04-05T12:09:00.009-04:00

Let's play "What the Hell is My Upstairs Neighbor Doing?".

Guesses:

1) Dropping it [anvils] like it's hot [3 a.m.].

2) Violating any number of laws concerning animal husbandry by herding a small tribe of goats in her apartment.

3) Clogging.

4) Attempting to exorcise her possessed Roomba by performing numbers from the venerable Broadway mainstay "Stomp".

5) Pogo-ing to Japanese punk.

6) Practicing smashing plates for her big fat Italian wedding.

7) Generally annoying the hell out of me by lumbering around in heels on hardwood floors every night beginning at midnight, slamming every cupboard and closet door in her apartment and then staging a repeat performance at 7am daily.

Am I the only one suffering? Any other loud neighbor stories? How'd you deal with it?

Job Envy.

2009-04-02T17:30:00.006-04:00

What's up with these nerds with cool jobs? Specifically, people who host travel shows. Like, how cool would it be to be the host of a travel show? Pretty cool. So why do they have these wads hosting them?

Have you seen Rick Steves? He's arguably the most successful travel writer/host out there right now. He's also The King of the Nerds. How did he get this job?! The writing part, I can see, but the TV part? And have you seen his wife? She ain't half bad. Maybe there's something more to Rick.

And there's this other show, "1,000 Places To See Before You Die". First of all, that title is a little stressful. That's a lot of places. And they mention the fact that you're gonna die right in there. Come on - ease up! Sheesh. Anyway, this thing is hosted by this American couple who seem to go to all these cool places and act the part of the ugly Americans - yammering loudly in public, pointing, sneering at the local customs, making faces at the local food... Dude, I will take this job if you don't want it. Sign me up!

Table Talk.

2009-04-01T22:16:00.004-04:00

What's with this table that everyone keeps talking about? Everyone's bringing something to the table, which is good. Or not bringing something to the table, which is bad. If they don't want to talk about something now, they "table it" and bring it up again later. What does that even mean? Is this some kind of Parliamentary b.s.? Ain't no Parliament here, except for the funk variety. The only thing I want on my table is a mayonnaise sandwich and a glass of chocolate milk.

Buffet-Impaired.

2009-03-31T21:12:00.008-04:00

Look, not everyone can handle a buffet-type situation. Frankly, it's all a bit overwhelming, especially to those of us with few talents in the culinary arena. During a buffet changeover between say, breakfast and lunch, at a buffet that offers "twenty stations from around the world", how can one be expected to construct a cohesive plate from the bevy of options available?! Shellfish, Chinese, bacon, macaroons, BBQ... It's all too much. Everything must be sampled with as few trips around the room as possible. Can one be blamed for hooking up some French toast with sushi roll?

Well, can I?

Real Talk.

2009-03-30T20:01:00.002-04:00

Those of us who are avid reality TV show viewers know that, with stakes as high as hittin' it with Bret Michaels, the pressure is on. Oftentimes, contestants feel "fustrated". This often causes them to "bring it", because their objective is to "take it to the next level" since they are "not here to make friends."

Shows I willingly admit to having watched and enjoyed:
1. Average Joe
2. Joe Millionaire (anything with "Joe" in the title will do)
3. The Pick Up Artist (AMAZING)
4. Groomer Has It (searching for the best dog groomer in the USA - for some reason, I kept calling it "Groomer Knows Best")

Shows I am sad to have missed:
1. America's Next Muppet
2. Trick my Trucker (!)
3. Fat March

How Not to Win Big in Vegas.

2009-03-29T20:02:00.003-04:00

1. Play four rounds of multi-hand video blackjack. Freak out that you just lost $28 in 3 minutes. Stop playing.

2. Seek out the same exact Wheel of Fortune slot machine that paid out $200 to you like 7 years ago. Pump quarters into it, refusing to believe that the same luck shouldn't strike twice.

3. Resort to playing penny slots, even though you have no idea what's going on or what the bets are/what the payout could be. Rejoice when you win big - twice - to the tune of SIX DOLLARS PROFIT. Wonder why you didn't start here and come out $12 richer from your trip to Sin City, instead of about 80 bucks lighter.

4. Consider sitting through a two-hour time-share pitch for the chance to score "free" tickets to Rita Rudner. A gamble if there ever was one.

Cirque du Sol-shhhh.

2009-03-24T19:46:00.004-04:00

There are many delightful varieties of theater-goer: the Snacker, the Seat-Kicker, Darth Vader (the heavy breather). Let's add to the list the Stater of the Obvious.

Last night, this guy behind us narrated every bit of action going on onstage. "No way - I can't believe that guy's going to take those people's tickets and pretend to rip them up! That guy's dressed like a lizard. Those two dudes are strong: that one just lifted that other one up! A giant snail just came up out of the stage. Check out the unit on that guy." [this was Cirque du Soleil, hence the French Canadian weirdness]. This would have been great had any of his companions or we been sight-impaired. This was not the case.

Real Hosebeasts.

2009-03-20T22:37:00.005-04:00

I don't really know how it happened, and I'm not proud, but I ended up watching "Real Hosebeasts of NYC". Don't judge. Only I may pass judgment upon the hideous, shrill, self-righteous, delusional ladies on this show. Have you seen it? Long story short, a bunch of horrible women (some of whom are neither Housewives, nor Real) get together, act catty toward one another, and hash out such idiotic problems as who has the more decrepit husband and why didn't so-and-so show up to my dumbass party for d-wads?

My question is, are they in on the joke? They have to know they are being presented in the shallowest, most horrible light ever, right? That these invented situations are designed to showcase their shortcomings as humans, yes? Or are they so delusional that they think they look good while it's all the other hosebeasts on the show who look petty and delusional? That one's husband is super-gay, right? And that other one whose husband is alleged royalty: she started out as a high-priced call girl, correct? Also, who's grosser: this group or the hooches in the Orange County version? Discuss.

I hate these shows that showcase women for being total morons. Please help me to heal. And change the channel.

Babble-on.

2009-03-18T21:37:00.005-04:00

What is it about business situations that drives people to start speaking in corporate-babble? Why is it suddenly mandatory to start peppering one's speech with sports metaphors, non-sequiturs and made-up words ("incentivize", anyone?)?

Today, this woman was describing a favorable idea as being one for the "front of the bus." What the hell does that mean? Is this some kind of homage to/defacing of Rosa Parks? Was she condoning a return to segregation on public transportation? Like, good ideas get to be in the front, bad ideas in the back? Racist! Or was she likening her mind to a bus? Why would you do that? Pick something a little more streamlined, at least. Come on.

Front of the bus? I'm not sure if this lady ever rode the bus, but the last time I was on there, the front of the bus was not exactly the Shangri-La. It was populated by a guy with one leg, two old ladies and three teenage girls who refused to yield their seats to said old ladies, all of whom were wearing wigs in varying stages of dishevelment.

Totally in my Face.

2009-03-16T13:11:00.006-04:00

What's with these people who need to be all up in your zone? If you're talking to me and you're not married to me or at least a good friend, TAKE A STEP BACK. I thought I was going to lose an eye today while talking to this woman and her flailing limbs, since she insisted on standing 2 inches away from me. Back it up, lady, or I'm liable to Mace you. I can't be held responsible. The worst is the personal space violator who could use a hot date with a toothbrush and some mouthwash. Have a mint or step away: it's your choice.

I'm pretty sure this is what precipitated the midget riot that took place yesterday at a poorly executed "America's Next Top Model" open casting in New York City. Peeps were all up in each other's business, and you know these shorties (no one over 5'7", please) were rockin' some stank breath after sleeping out on the sidewalk overnight. Is it any wonder things turned ugly? And as fellow dwarf Bre from Cycle 5 once said, "God don't like ugly."

Drakkar-No.

2009-03-13T19:22:00.005-04:00

Attention, dudes: it's not hot when I'm half a block away from you and can taste your cologne. As Aminat from this cycle of "ANTM" says, it's what might be deemed "questionable behavior."

If I can smell you before I see you, there's an issue. No matter what you're actually wearing, your odor conjures up images of you clad in Zubaz, smothered in Dippity-Do and sporting a Sinbad tour t-shirt. If that's the profile you're looking to project, then bravo. If not, do us all a favor and ditch the Hai Karate for good.

Ty-rah.

2009-03-11T17:29:00.004-04:00

When a friend told me Tyra Banks was going to be on Oprah tomorrow, my head exploded. Which might also happen to Tyra when she shares the spotlight with the woman she. would. like. to. be. It also might have the same effect on Oprah: who knows how she'll react when faced with a drag queen impersonator of herself?!

Watching this might get a little confusing for the viewers at home: which one is Oprah? Tyra's been working on her Oprah impression for the past couple of years and has the strange. halting. way. of. speaking. and the ability to take a topic, any topic, and make it all about her, down pat.

Evidently, Tyty Baby is going on to talk about some sort of "personal" experience with the subject of dating violence. This better not mean that Tyra donned a bruise suit for one day and now thinks she knows what the hell she's talking about when it comes to domestic abuse. She's already trivialized the trials of the overweight and homeless with her previous "undercover" let's-don-a-fat-suit or pretend-to-be-homeless FOR A DAY endeavors: please, spare us this and concentrate on doing what you do best, Tyra: humiliating model wannabes on national TV.

Trash Can-Do!

2009-03-10T22:44:00.003-04:00

How hard is it to put trash out just prior to trash day? If you live in my building, it's almost impossible.

I'm pretty sure the place must be zoned as independent living for the cognitively impaired. How else to explain that without fail, all of the trash cans outside on the side of the building are nearly full two days after trash pick-up? Garbage pick-up is one day and week and guess what? It's the same day every week. How about putting your stinkin' trash out on that day so I don't have to walk past it for a week and smell your stank mess?

Better yet, how about actually putting it into the trash cans? You've taken it all the way downstairs, outside and in the general vicinity of covered containers constructed specifically for the purpose of holding refuse. Go that extra mile and place your bag inside the can instead of leaning the bag (which will be ripped apart by rats and pigeons) against said can. Go ahead, challenge yourself! You can do it!

Springtime Stank.

2009-03-09T21:04:00.007-04:00

There's nothing quite like taking a stroll on a springtime tease of a day, heady with the unaccustomed freedom of perambulating about clad in fewer than 14 layers of clothing, and taking a deep breath and inhaling... rank cigar smoke.

While out and about on this weekend, I encountered no fewer than 10 unaffiliated dudes puffing on stogies all within a 20 minute period. Thanks for ruining my first taste of springtime with your big, honking, stank mess. 1996 called and it wants its stupid, Arnold Schwarzenegger-fueled fad back. When I run for President, my platform is going to be 8 weeks paid vacation for all and the outlaw of both cigars and every Bon Jovi song ever recorded. Who smokes them, anyway? Fat Republicans, George Burns and drunk-ass sorority girls at a wedding.

Cigars are by far the most disgusting smoking-related smell. From most to least offensive, the list breaks down like this:
1. Cigars
2. Skunk
3. Cigarettes
4. Weed of the non-skunk variety
5. Pipe
6. Cloves

Who disagrees?

Cine-mastication.

2009-03-05T21:58:00.006-05:00

There are many things that should be verboten in a movie theater: smoking, cellphones, infants. Let's add food to that list, too, shall we?

How hard is it to like, not eat for two hours? Is it really necessary to cram a whole box of Jr. Mints into your mouth? Maybe, if you have Type 1 Diabetes. But here's a tip: undoing the cellophane on the box excruciatingly slowly does not make the process any quieter. Just rip it off and get on with your life.

Also, why do they sell popcorn at the movies? It's the food equivalent of Styrofoam packing kernels. THAT'S NOT A PLEASANT SOUND. And eating popcorn with one's mouth open (which accounts for 98% of the population sitting around me in a movie theater) creates an echo chamber which amplifies the sound about a billion times.

P.S. If you're gonna bring a snack from home, how about NOT MAKING IT A SHRIMP BURRITO? Sheesh.

America's Next Top Mess.

2009-03-04T19:23:00.006-05:00

Well, it's that time again. Oprah-in-training Tyra Banks unleashes the latest batch of model wannabes fresh from the bowels of Hot Topic with the latest "cycle" of America's Next Top Model. And I will watch. Even though this show easily peaked 10 cycles ago (which is like 4 months in Top Model time) during the Shanthrax years, I'm still compelled to tune in.

But next cycle, forget it. Tyra's latest gambit is that no model over 5'7" need apply,which effectively erases the "Model" part of ANTM, leaving us with simply America's Next Top, which is a different show altogether.

Seriously - a height limit? Are there now no requirements whatsoever for being on this show other than a willingness to be in close proximity to Miss J. and the ability to resist the urge to flee a room containing James St. James? What's next? Only girls missing a few teeth will be considered? America's Next Top Crone? Maybe that dude made out of tree bark over on TLC should toss his hat into the ring.

Tyty seems to be grasping at straws. Let's get back to the days when the models actually vaguely resembled models, were forced to do outlandish things like work out, smoked up a storm, had eating disorders and hung out with select members of the Wu Tang Clan. You know, like on Make Me a Supermodel. Hmmm...

Should I convert? Is anyone else still watching ANTM? Are me and Benny Ninja the only ones left on this godforsaken sinking ship?

You be Illin'.

2009-03-03T17:46:00.005-05:00

This uplifting little ad appeared in my inbox yesterday. Gee, thanks, Discovery Health. I needed some more nonsense to needlessly worry about.

It's probably for some gross show where they chronicle bizarre afflictions; I don't even want to know. Because to me, it's more like, hey, you know that headache you got during your annoying 2 hour conference call today? It means YOU'RE PROBABLY GONNA DIE. Got the sniffles? It's not because it's 12 degrees out: most likely, IT'S A DEADLY STRAIN OF EBOLA. Post-nasal drip? NICE KNOWING YA. Jerks.

Ope-Folks

2009-03-02T17:08:00.006-05:00

Oprah's what, like a zillionaire? Today, her show (which for the record, I have not seen since she was locked in a head-to-head trash battle with Geraldo Rivera back in the '80s) was about not buying crap. Simplify your life, save your dough, blah blah blah.

Ope offered up three especially choice tidbits during the broadcast:
1) She packs her lunch, then gloats to her longtime live-in whatever, Stedman, about having saved 7 bucks
2) She sees a penny, picks it up. Like she needs more good luck?
3) She saves toast. As in, if she toasts a piece of bread and doesn't want it, she saves it until the next day and then re-toasts it, thereby making it "even toastier"

Oprah, let's be real: we kind of know you're rich. The secret's out! You don't have to pretend to be one of us plebeians, clipping coupons, using expired-but-still-smells-OK milk, trying to keep the cold out with the duct tape and plastic sheeting Homeland Security told us to buy in 2003.

Leave some pennies on the sidewalk for the rest of us to pick up.

Horrib-ill.

2009-02-27T14:48:00.003-05:00

You know what's annoying? The inability to keep down solid foods.

On the plus side, being debilitated by nausea affords one the ability to spend quality time with daytime judges, immobile elderly people and Lil' Mama.

Snuggie Nation.

2009-02-25T22:35:00.005-05:00

Did you see Obama's speech Tuesday night? I'm fairly certain Nancy Pelosi was sporting a pea green Snuggie.

Can someone please explain these things to me? I'm not getting how they are supposed to be some sort of new sensation. I'm pretty sure we already had loose fitting fabric garments that were not fully enclosed. They're called robes. So putting one on backwards, fabricating it out of cheap fleece and making it huge makes it a Snuggie?

Maybe I'll end up eating my words when I order a gross of them to distribute amongst the congregation of the "church" I'm starting.

Lotto, Schmotto.

2009-02-24T17:38:00.008-05:00

After a particularly bad/soul-sucking/craptastic day, do you ever find yourself purchasing a lottery ticket, momentarily entertaining the notion of rolling around in a big pile of moolah while telling your boss to cram it with walnuts? But then it turns out you don't win and are instead even more disgruntled, downtrodden and disgusted?

Admit it: you've been there. And it should come as no surprise, because I'm convinced the lottery is a(nother) state-sponsored scam. A scam, I tell you! Have you ever known anyone personally who was won big bucks in the lottery? I'm not talking about some fool who netted like $500. I'm talking about the ridiculous jackpots that would likely ruin your life and see you inundated with calls from long lost friends, family and children. No? That's because no one wins! The state keeps the money and doles out paltry amounts to keep suckers interested. I'm convinced it's all a sham.

Or maybe I'm just bitter because I once again failed to win the lotto yesterday and can't afford a big, tricked-out belt buckle like (the artist formerly known as Lil') Romeo, over there.

Grammy's Mix Tape.

2009-02-23T08:02:00.006-05:00

Good news: the folks at Crystal Light have somehow gotten ahold of the results of your grandma dabbling in 80's technology and are offering you the ability to purchase "Grammy's Mix Tape" if you so desire.

First of all, "Grammy's" is obviously just plan wrong. If it is a mix tape from the Grammy Awards, it should just be Grammys Mix Tape, yes? And if they insist on denoting possession, then it would be Grammys' Mix Tape, no?

Perhaps more importantly, why, in 2009, is anyone (including your grandma) still making mix tapes? I held on to my cassette tapes to the bitter end and even I was forced to recognize that era is dead and gone.

Finally, people still drink Crystal Light?

TLC Trauma.

2009-02-18T22:02:00.002-05:00

When Bravo is showing only reruns of the Hooches of the East, Left and South (the Real Housewives series), I'm forced to look elsewhere for entertainment, lest my retinas be seared by the glow from their orange flesh. This often includes a stop at TLC for some What Not to Wear or Little People: Big Deal! action. All well and good.

What I do NOT appreciate, however, are the commercials/teasers for other TLC programming, which more often than not include GROSSLY DISTURBING IMAGES. Listen, I'm trying to watch some stupid show about wedding gowns: don't go showing me theMermaid Girl, the 900 lb Toddler or the Boy Who's Face Flew Off[sic]. I hate being sabotaged with video footage of some guy in India who has tree bark growing off his body, some dude whose biceps exploded or a fella with NO FACE WHATSOEVER. What the...?!

Or at least give me some warning. Going from wondering if some jerk on Property Ladder is going to lose his shirt on a house flipping scheme to being confronted with Sharon, the primordial dwarf and her average-sized teeth is a bit jarring, to say the least. Poor Sharon! How can I go back to watching LA Ink after seeing her? How can I go on?!

Wee Boy.

2009-02-17T20:16:00.004-05:00

While walking home today, I came upon a family sort of clustered around a sewer grate, just kind of standing there and staring down the alley. As I got closer, I noticed that there was a stream of water coming from the 2-3 year old boy and going into said sewer.

On one hand, I guess he was just more or less eliminating the middle man by peeing directly into the sewer. On the other hand, ewww. But I guess it was better than peeing on the side of a building. Or having an accident. But now is he going to grow up thinking he can whiz whenever the mood strikes (as long as there's some sort of drain involved)? Because there are already too many people who are laboring under that delusion. I used to live off of South Street in Philadelphia (where the fabled hippies meet) and every time I looked out the window, there was some clown micturating in the alleyway. It got to the point where I would hold up score cards for them.

While we're on the topic, there seems to be an inordinate amount of like, Snapple bottles partially filled with liquid laying around on the city streets. Have you noticed this? My husband is convinced they are all filled with urine, and I have a friend who supports the same theory. This is confusing. Why bother peeing into a bottle, sealing it, and then leaving it somewhere? If you're gonna do that, just do like the little kid and go directly into the sewer. Am I wrong?

Make this Show.

2009-02-14T12:42:00.005-05:00

Do y'all know Lil Mama? Looooove her. She's a rapper or something but I know her from America's Next Best Dance Squad on MTV. All I know is that she dresses a mess, looks about 58 years old but is only 19, and has a fabulous way of speaking. She actually sounds a lot like Brian Fellow. Which is awesome.

Someone needs to give Lil Mama her own show in which she plays a Judge Judy type person who doles out no-nonsense justice whilst over-enunciating with a Brooklyn accent. Get on that! I'd totally watch it.

Muzak Magic.

2009-02-12T18:53:00.005-05:00

Who likes grocery shopping? Yeah, me, neither. The grocery store that's most convenient to me is also the suckiest. I went in there today and they're re-doing it, presumably to make it suck less. Except the way they're doing this is by installing lighting that makes all the shoppers look like extras in Shawn of the Dead, putting in freezers with shelving that no human with an average armspan could possibly reach, and evidently playing oldies on the sound system. Not like, some oldies. ALL OLDIES.

I don't want to feel like I'm in a malt shop or sliding around on the vinyl backseat of my parents' 1972 Plymouth Satellite as my mom careens around the corners with the radio going (what seatbelts?!) when I'm food shopping. I want to feel like I'm in the grocery store. I want to hear some Michael McDonald, Eagles or the muzak version of "Living in America" as I check the expiration dates. I don't want the Big Bopper or Frankie Valli. I want my Seals & Crofts!

Although, isn't it way worse when you're in a store and there's NO music on at all? You start feeling like something bad is going to go down or that they closed the place and accidentally locked you in. Worse, you start questioning your purchases, the institution of capitalism and your existence. Maybe "Chantilly Lace" ain't so bad, after all. No, wait - yes, it is.