Kitty in a Cathouse

Kitty soak.

2010-08-15T21:29:00.000-07:00

Kitty has lived in the midwest for a lot of days and suddenly those five or six days in the summertime when it was, like, hot and stuff suddenly feel like a pair of panties out of the dollar bin...slightly uncomfortable but eventually disappeared under a socially inept gamer's futon. A long ago memory! Even if it was yesterday! Here, the air is so heavy I feel like I'm being rude if I don't say hello to it in the mornings. Also, when you stand under a tree it makes it rain! For real! It literally makes it rain in the club of life! I have asked several people about this phenomenon and though they have all given logical and satisfactory answers, I prefer my own, which can be best understood by watching this instructional video:

OTHERWISE, the cable guy left his tools at my house on accident and because of my good Samaritan ways I got free cable. It had been a while. I'd like to ask: what in the cock suck would we be doing without Rachel Maddow on TV? She's so intense! She's also got the best hair cut that ever lived. Is it a serious haircut? I can't tell. I hope that it is. It hurts my feelings that I can't distill my sense of social justice into a palatable and effective tv show. All I have now, blunted by the damp hotness, is a very real fear that I am being drugged with Vicodin on the daily. I walked home from a bar the other night and a man stepped out of the shadows on a very dark street and asked me if I had any money and instead of being a normal, creep-fearing person I stopped, dug out my wallet and explained to him that I don't have a local bank account and it costs a lot of money to get cash out on an unauthorized ATM. And then I explained I'd like to find a bank who reimburses for that sort of thing! This is all while he shifted from one foot to the next, thinking about raping me or whatever. I just can't give you all my cash, OK? It's just not feasible for me right now! I, again, blame the heat. It's like the old 1950's thing Dr. Awful Awfulton did to epileptics to get good, clear pictures of their brains. He'd drill into their skulls and drain all of the cushioning fluid, then take their pictures and throw them in a dank cell to have fits until their bodies naturally reproduced it. Only I ain't having any fits, I just keep bringing up my past and shit.

I'll Show You Yours If You Show Me Yours. No. Wait. Shit.

2010-04-18T12:28:00.000-07:00

I KNOW A TEA-BAGGER! Professor Snatch works for him. He spends a lot of money on signage and airfare to go and support an unorganized group of upper middle class people! I have been drafting a letter to him, which I think I may also send to Sarah Palin. Here's what I have so far:

Dear Tea Bagger,

Go back to England! Where would our economy be if we did not tax you? Fault not my generation for being smart enough to understand the benefits of not reaching a certain tax bracket. Fault not my generation for walking on your lawn!

ps- Can I borrow $100?

Anyway. That's all I have so far. Mostly, I've just been doodling pictures of Debra Winger in the movie Rachel Getting Married in the margins. I know this movie came out, like, a long time ago but I am limited to those movies which are newly being shown on Netflix Instant Watch through ye olde Wii of Christmas Past. This movie was actually pretty good. Mostly, I think, because TV On The Radio's Tunde Adebimpe was in it. I must admit I've never turned off any of the three Anne Hathaway movies that TBS plays on Saturdays. I myself prefer movies about regular people turning into princesses after extensive make-overing over action movies any day of the week. Especially Saturdays, when the thoughts just lap at the shore of my brain like little desperate waves of dumbiness. Anyway. Anne Hathaway was clearly engineered in an Adults That Look Like Babies factory! I'm here to say I want to be the first of the public to tour this factory! I want to have a no holds barred first-person account of the goings-on. Perhaps I will get to take one home, yes?

LIL JOHN WAS IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD TODAY! He pulled up in a beat-up white conversion van to talk with the guy who lives across the street. The guy who lives across the street is a Pawn Shop pawner so lots of people come to him to inquire about the going rates of different and certain items. I think Lil John was coming to ask about the video screen the guy across the street replaced his horn with in his steering column. It is a popular inquiry on our block. Even Professor Snatch has asked to look at the technological wonder. I have yet to muster the courage, and as with most things I have probably built the shit way up in my mind and I fear disappointment. I studied "could-be" Lil John through my kitchen window for some time, and, having noted his white top hat, matching white leisure suit, solid gold top and bottom grill(s), tight yet buoyant dredlocks and lean-to cane, I readily moved him into the " it's for fucking sure" Lil John category. Lil John left in his white van, then, some hours later, returned, this time with his van doors open and an old black man sitting with his legs hanging on. On the dinky radio was Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls." I swear on the son of my son! I swear to all that is holy!

But you're already so big, Lil John, I don't know how I'd make you any bigger!

WELL. I GUESS MOMMY KITTY THEATRE IS LOSING OUT TO TV THESE DAYS:

BUT I'll ALWAYS HAVE THIS TO GET ME THROUGH THE LONG AND LONELY NIGHTS OF INDIVIDUATION:

Steel Bars Paid For This Meth Of Mine

2010-04-10T16:35:00.001-07:00

THE KITTY HIATUS IS OVER. Brought back from the dead by cheeky Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution! What do my wondering eyes appear but a lisping English doe-eye daringly accusing America of being overweight? Over where? Overweight! hahahah! Oh, Jamie Oliver. I must admit this kitty eats better after she watches the program. Better dick sandwiches!

YOU KNOW THAT REOCCURING DREAM EVERYONE HAS IN WHICH MICHAEL BOLTON FUCKS YOU IN ONE OF HIS MUSIC VIDEOS WHICH IS ACTUALLY A FAKE CONCERT HE IS PUTTING ON? Well, I been having it. A lot. I wake in the morning and go to Youtube to watch his videos. I miss his tender embraces, and want to tell him to take the trash out, just take the trash out, I'm not kidding this time! You don't know what I do around here! I have plucked the hairs in my upper cranial area (made up) in homage. We are twin assholes in the Proctologist's office of Life.

BUT SPEAKING OF HIGH FOREHEADS, this Kitty is moving to a new carpet tunnel. And you know what exists in the same state? BabyLand General Hospital! If you feel the urge to leave the e-tour early, then I understand. You're a quitter. You can never finish anything! You're 30 years old and you're just now starting grad school! ho, hum. I myself only had a few real Cabbage Patch Kids as a wee toddler. I may have had more if my genius granny hadn't discovered the Jo-Ann pattern for Panty Hose Kids. I just wish she'd warshed the panty hose before stuffing them with old drier sheets and time, love and tenderness.

FACEBOOK is back on my shitlist! I can understand the Farmville stupidity, even Fishville, or Pukeville, or I'MSOTIREDOFMYBOYFRIENDI'MGONNALOOKUPSOMEOLDBOYFRIENDS-ville. But I am so tired of being invited to join the causes. I've got everything from curing cancer to making dog raping a felony! Listen. I think we can all do our part, sure, but you're making me feel really shitty. I don't get on the facebook for a calamity run-down! I want someone to post some pictures so I can go through them and decide if I like them or not. I also want to post lots of youtube videos and not watch a god damn one anyone else posts. It's more about the essence, am I right? I also like when people post funny things on my page, and then tell me how great and cool I am. Those things are all nice!

I DON'T UNDERSTAND why anyone would watch Dancing With The Stars. Why do we watch stars do things they can't do, when they clearly are famous enough to be on there for doing some (probably dumb thing) really, really well? I think it's a travesty! I also think Kate Gosselin is a transvestite. I've written the proper authorities. This includes my number one speed dial DCFS. I want to see these children put in foster care where they belong! I watched a show on Fox the other night after I'd had too much cough syrup, I think it was called Foster Care Isn't So Bad, about a girl who had been given up for adoption as a baby and was never adopted and then found her real parents after she had grown up in foster care. She was attractive! And also pretty smart! Based on this show, I think all kids should go through the foster care system.

KEEP GOING, I'M ALMOST THERE!

Retard Peek-a-Boo Boo

2010-02-16T10:36:00.001-08:00

WELL It was time for the worst episode of The Bachelor cycle this week: The Kissing Episode. I hate this episode because it is just a montage of Jake The Flake doing wet kisses with the remaining three girls. This season the Kissing Episode takes place in St. Lucia. Jake took Gia (NY model) to the 'poor' part of town and they drank coconut juice out of coconuts and Jake's camera sidebars entailed talking about how well Gia did amongst all of the poor black people given that she has thousand dollar shoes. On it's own camera sidebar, Gia's cut-off jean shorts cleared the matter up by saying "Gia doesn't own any thousand dollar shoes. Jake was probably confused by the $1000 yard sale sticker Gia places on the bottoms of all of her high heels. It was an honest mistake most any rippled idiot could make." On his second date, Jake took Tenley to a black sand beach and then Tenley recited every line from my seventh grade journal about my crush on my biology teacher. Tenley has the heart of an infant, and the voice of a toddler. You can see Jake self consciously squirming because he has secret fears of only being able to truly love pre-teen girls. Big props for Tenley for sobbingly using the phrase "because of my...past" more times than any respectful Network should leave unedited. This 'past' consists of being married and then, not being married anymore! gasp! Tenley! The last and final date was onboard the same boat used to film Pirates of the Carribean. And who else would Jake like to share this Disney owned and paid for experience? None other than your friend and not mine, Vienna. Like a fart joke during an interview at Old Navy, this slobber puss just keeps going over well unexpectedly. Jake seems to really like the fact that Vienna doesn't challenge him and doesn't make him feel like he is the less attractive one in the relationship. Vienna likes to win. It is truly the recipe for good new fashioned TV love.

BUT SPEAKING OF VIENNA. Professor Snatch and I have developed a new game while watching The Bachelor. It's called "Retard Peek-a-boo" and basically all you do is yell out "I see the retard peeking out" whenever you see the retard peeking out from behind all of the gross plastic surgery that ABC had to have done on these people to make the tv show viable. It came like a flash of light to my brain-- these people are all operating like angelic downs syndromers! I think ABC's diabolical plan involved taking people with DS and, joining forces with the people over at the now defunct ORIGINAL Extreme Makeover, created modified contestants. The possibilities are now endless. No wonder Jake fell in love with so many of them- who doesn't love a retard??

THE FRENCH TWIST on this week's hairdo was Ally calling Jake to see if she could be let back on. Ally left last week during the rose ceremony when she realized that the other girls were prettier than she was. She went back home and then realized that she actually had to like, pay her water bill and shit, and called Jake and asked for a second chance. Her timing was ill-played, as she called AFTER the Kissing Episode had already all been taped, and his little dinker was already drawing up blueprints for the other women's Great Rooms. Stupid Ally! She was the only one I thought maybe had a real bone in her facial structure. Despite the fact that she took Jake to see her dead grandmother's house on her Hometown Date, I thought she might be the one Jake threw over his shoulder and whisked away to his Rape Den.

ANYWAY. I'm not even going to watch The Women Tell All special. Probably.

On the wings of my wings...

2010-01-13T12:20:00.000-08:00

MAN OH MAN! The Bachelor is back and not willing to aknowledge it cares about what you think! I was kind of pissy when they announced that ol' Jakearoony would be The Bachelor, because let's face it- he's stupid. But he's also clearly insane!

I really appreciate ABC piggybacking one show to the next so we get to see these people not grow and not internalize any life lessons. Jake's "bod" has been the hot topic in the women-in-waiting house. Can't wait to see that bod, Jake. Love the bod, Jake. Have you seen Jake's bod?? Obviously there are a lot of reasons why Jake's bod is really cool and stuff but the one I like the most is his lack of neck. His chest has a lot of unfinished business up until his chin, then his face gets to barely take over and turns into a total Leave It To Beaver masturbatory session. Love it! I also like all of the funny jokes the show has come up with to show off the fact that he is a commercial airline pilot. In fact, the show is subtitled "On the Wings of Love" There's lots of "Come fly with me" business. And one girl showed up in a 60's stewardesses outfit. (Which I really want, so, make it happen!) I myself have never known a commercial airline pilot, but I can just guess what kind of person does it. Someone who likes to wear cheap cotton and not do a god damn thing but tell people where the Grand Canyon is.

THE WOMEN this year are even more desperate than the last lot! How can this be, you ask? Wellllll I'monna tell you. After so many seasons of this show, the only women who can possibly conceive this program as having any basis in reality are nut jobs. They are girls who lost their virginity to their high school boyfriends, whom they married or almost married, only to lose their men to more attractive whores mere months into marital bliss. There is also the older "store manager" lot who obviously don't like that they are there but also do not like to lose. There's the crazy-ass villain who packs her bags when she doesn't get a one-on-one date and talks way too loud when ol' Jake is in the room. There are only a couple who aren't bat shit crazy, and obviously Jake will choose one of them, or not. Who gives a fuck this is the best TV show that ever lived!!!!

AND THE BEST PART OF THE SEASON SO FAR has been when Tight Titties Rozlyn got kicked out of the whore house for sucking off an associate producer! hahahahahaha! Oh, wowzer. I don't understand where all of the "No one saw that one coming" talk comes from, though. I saw it! I saw it in the promotional materials for x sakes! I just pretty well assume anyone who's fake boobies are trying that hard to rip themselves from their chest has a couple of molestations in their past, and you know what that means dontcha? Horn dog! And you know what gets a horn dog model really excited dontcha? 'Down time' on a reality series!

THE GENIUS AWARD THIS WEEK GOES TO: Elizabeth. For wearing jeans so low cut that I'm pretty sure I saw a pussy muffin-top while telling Jake that she does not want him to kiss her. No, Jake, no kissing! Absolutely no kissing me! Not a chance big boy!

MOST RIDICULOUS EXCHANGES ON THE BEST WORST TV SHOW THAT EVER LIVED:

woman:
What is your most favorite memory?

Jakearoony: Right now!

woman: Oh really. Mine is snowboarding.

AND

AND

woman: I guess you've noticed I've been wearing this ring.

Jakearoony: Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about that.

woman: silence

Jakearoony: So, what's up with it.

woman: It's a fake engagement ring.

Jakearoony: Oh, really?

woman: yeah, it's fake. It's so I can wear it to bars and stuff.

LONG LIVE THE ONLY SHOW ON TV THAT WAS PUT IN A TIME CAPSULE IN 1964 AND DUG UP BY AN EVIL EXECUTIVE!

Merry Christmas From Kitty in a Cathouse

2009-12-23T19:21:00.000-08:00

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM YOUR FAVORITE KITTY!

Whaaaaa? You don't like it? Stop looking at it!! Yeah, try and stop. Get your finger off the screen, you're gonna bust the LED crystals. You trying to imagine what it's like to fuck this guy? Me, too. Take off the shirt, hot bod. Let me see your rippling muscles and your...cat butthole. That's a god damn cat butthole! I can't fuck you now, you've got a god damn cat butthole on you! Get it off! Get. It. Off! Where's my top????!

Pube Watch '09

2009-12-18T10:48:00.000-08:00

I'VE BEEN WATCHING the dance shows on TV. Well, only So You Think You Can Dance. Dancing With The Stars is like watching a bizarro nursing home. All the old people are dressed like young people and the young people are dressed like eighty year olds. Anywho. You know, dancing looks so fun! Wish I could do it! But instead I just like to watch it. And all of the mid-air splits are so exciting. But I can't help but to do a little telekinetic begging for a little pubic hair to boing out of of those leotards. It just doesn't seem possible that it wouldn't happen at least once! I guess they could have all gone eighteen months on us. But, aren't dancers supposed to really like hair and stuff? I bet they just slick it back and secure it with a beret. I'm glad the black dude won. Cause there's nothing better than giving a black person a prize on TV. Have you ever noticed the black families are given houses on Extreme Homie Home Makeover liiiiike every time the show starts to suck? It's because black people know how to fucking win a prize. They take their shirts off and drop to the ground, writhe with excitement and scream. Much better than just plain ol' hand-to-the-mouth crying or squealing. Remind me next time I'm on national television to take a big celebratory dump when I get my prize.

IN OTHER NEWS, what the fuck was Villi Fulauu doing as a back up dancer for Jennifer Lopez on the So You Think You Can Dance finale?

IN OTHER OTHER NEWS, it's Christmas time. Why are all of the old people being such assholes this year?? Everyone I know over the age of 40 is like "I had my time with Christmas, now I'm done, good for you, though, you know, really really good, though...for you." I mean, when I was a small kitten, my grandparents hired drunk dudes to come to their house on Christmas eve and pass out oranges and apples with candy canes taped to them. They knew what was what. You got to illusion kids if they ever hope to go through the necessary throes of disillusionment. Now. On the other hand, if you don't have kids and you don't like Christmas then whatev, Bev. But grandparents and parents, get your god damn shit together. If you're up against commercialism like a good little anti-American, then handmake somethin' out of soap.

Here's a little sumpin to get you in da mood:

Dream Pussy

2009-11-19T19:00:00.001-08:00

I HAVE BEEN BUYING Christmas Tree scented candles more often than I think is really very good for my rep. People come over and say "What's with this?" and I have to say "Oh, that's a gift. For my sister." Most people are too polite to ask why it's burning. And why there are three other candles exactly like that one in a line behind it, just in case that heavenly scented wax wafts its final perfume into my house. I need as many candles as I can get, as my two new roommates (and by roommates I mean cats) shit more than is, I think, animally possible. What is up with all of this pooping? I had to actually go down to Pet Food Center and get the Jumbo size cat pan to hold of all of this copious feces! Please! Persian cats are the worst cats on Earth. They are the 2009 Tori Amos of the animal world- everything seems perfectly pretty and great until they start moving or making noises. Then it's just fucking stupid and stinky.

TALK ABOUT NETWORK TV ALL YOU WANT, but Thursday nights on NBC are soooo funny! Now, I don't mean 'Community'-- actually, I only watched it one time and I thought it was like chewing on a two week old McDonald's sack. I usually only give tv shows one chance to make me feel age appropriate feelings, and then I dump them. Unless the shows feature attractive teenagers and their attractive parents, then I mysteriously end up sitting in front of the computer or TV at juuuuust the right times. If I remember, I watch The Hills and The City on MTV.COM. Those shows are exactly eight minutes long, each, so it doesn't take much to let that warm jiz wash over your chin. Can you imagine having someone have you fake your life for filming purposes? I think it sounds so fucking awesome! Like, they could have gone down to the DMV with me. If the filming crew were there maybe the bulldyke behind the desk wouldn't have filled in the "wrong" weight because I pointed out how she had spelled my name wrong! Maaaaaaaybe. I'm also way up inside Glee like a tiny asian fist! It's so retarded and funny. Peanut pointed out how the songs are all tracks laid over the talking sounds, like someone keeps forgetting to equalize that shit and no one minds. I don't really mind. Again, it involves attractive teenagers. But, for real, 30 Rock and Parks and Recreation are good.

THERE'S A COMPETITIVE MARKET ON EBAY for light-up Christmas t-shirts for children. I was in a mini brawl with someone who just would not give up the goose! I needed that gee dee Rudolph t-shirt! I did win. Now I have to figure out how to pay for it. I might have to sell my car.

SO ANYWAY, the worst thing about Facebook this week are exboyfriends who find you to tell you all the things you did wrong. I always forget anything I did wrong after about three years, which makes anything I did in High School seem like such old news I end up telling stories about other people that were actually about yours truly. This particular ex boyfriend was soooo angry that he didn't even want to ADD me as a friend, he just wanted to send me a message saying he wasn't going to add me. When we 'dated' this person had pictures of himself up on his bedroom wall in various weight lifting poses, two of them actual cut outs of low budget magazines which may or may not have been produced by his parents. I took this dude to a wedding with me, my Granny's fourth, and he spent the entire time telling me all of the people that I looked like that he had known in his life. (Something good did come out of that, though, because after each one I'd say "What? That old fooder dooder?! And then I'd laugh hysterically. aaahahahahah! fooder dooder! oh. hum.) Then he told me about all of the dreams that he had about me in which we were Power Rangers in MacGyver settings. I ended up getting Mono and conveniently could not have any human contact whatsoever for a couple of weeks. ANYWAY, my mom had to do the final dump for me. Apparently, of all of the super dorky things that have ever happened to this Mongoloid, my mommy dump ranked up at the top. Sheeeet. That ain't nothin'. There's a couple of girls from that period who are still waiting on me to show up at their teenage weddings to be their maid of honor. Wait on, dream pussy's!

I DON'T WANT ANY FUCKER HATERATIN' ME ON FACEBOOK UNLESS I DID SOMETHING THAT DIRECTLY LANDED THEM IN A WHEELCHAIR:

Another Shit Poisoning, Another Day.

2009-11-08T14:57:00.000-08:00

HEY, YOU KNOW WHEN YOU SHOULD SPEAK FORMALLY? When you're getting paid to do it. I can't stand it when people are supposed to be friendly friends speak in a disconnected way to you. Like maybe there are cameras on us? Are they bugged? Do they know they sound so awful and mentally disturbed? An Example: "Dear Kitty, I had hoped we could meet today but if your schedule doesn't allow then so be it. Perhaps we can talk about a future meeting, one that would be better for both of us." I wish I could fully communicate the power behind my desire to respond to such trash with EAT SHIT AND DIE. JUST EAT THE SHIT AND THEN DIE FROM SHIT POISONING, OK!?

I LIKE SOFT LIGHTING MOVIES WITH KIND OF IMPOSSIBLE SOUNDING DIALOGUE, and I like Maya Rudolph and I also like John Krasinski, and for the most part I didn't dislike their movie Away We Go. But there was a moment as they embark on their trip across the country where Maya's character tells John's character that she has stapled their itinerary into the inside of his jacket, and she has. Then I get to the end of this movie through which I think I was unfairly emotional because of all the baby talk and shit, and I see Ol' Dave Eggers had his hand in the script. And his wife, I guess. Well, that explains it. Dave Eggers is to art what cottage cheese is to lasagna. I mean, I don't know how much of an actual hand he had in the Where The Wild Things Are movie, which I loved, but I'm guessing maybe just a pinky finger or a cuff link. I read Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius in High School and I thought it was pretty neat. All that normalized death and stuff. But then, later on, I started to really hate him. What a fucking cockamamie douchebag. What's wrong with you? a sensitive boyfriend would say, this is REAL. That's exactly my problem. The minute you start believing your real is the best real then it's curtains. And that's exactly what I think of ol' Dave Eggers.

I HEARD someone reported a picture of a naked three year old to facebook as being unacceptable. I wish I'd been there to witness the cloud of truth pass over that fucker's eyes when they realized what that says about them. "Well, this is high unacceptable! Naked pictures of children! I'm offended!!" quickly passes into "I mean, it's for the child's safety!" and then directly down the shithole into "Ohhhh no! I'm a closet child molester!" Really, people? You don't like baby weenies? Baby weenies are the only thing I ever want to see on facebook! You like pictures of tube sock boobies, drunk girls kissing, people eating, and even a few people using the bathroom, but what really gets your goat is a baby weenie!? I, too, hope to see you at the shit feast.

THERE ARE CAVES UNDER ST.LOUIS! PEANUT TOLD ME! I LOOKED IT UP AND THE INTERNET CONFIRMED!

Hey, you know what I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be a person of wal-mart. Get it? No? No, listen, they dress funny. and stuff.

2009-11-01T16:04:00.000-08:00

HAPPY DAY AFTER HALLOWEEN! I went as Mary Kay and Professor Snatch went as Villi. It was fun, especially because everyone thought Professor Snatch was Mario Lopez.

YOU KNOW, I like a good jab. I like a good introspective joke about social customs or standards. You know I also like to talk nasty and be weird. All of these things are true. But you know what I don't like? When stupid people who are going to school to be social workers dress up as a person from the website "People Of Walmart" for Halloween. It might be ok if 1. the person was celebrating this idea of a person, 2.admitting perhaps there is some part of them that secretly would love to have the ability to be so different that someone would take notice,3. believe that the world's largest chain of discount stores only attracts just one type of person, or 4. be able to disregard the impossibility of this because then it wouldn't be THE LARGEST CHAIN OF DISCOUNT STORES ON EARTH. But that's not what's going on here. What's going on here is that this little dental appliance gets to be different than everyone else one night a year and this time, this time they chose to be a person they find on a website that makes them feel really good about thinking about what people think of them the other 364 days a year. You know, Wal-Mart does a lot of bad shit, and I think it smells weird, but there are hundreds of communities in this country where it's the only place they HAVE to get stuff and the very last thing they are thinking about is where their toilet paper is made. Rightfully. And as every smart, emotionally intelligent person knows, people featured in these pictures are the people that make this country worth living in. They don't give a fuck about you! They've never even thought twice about your ass. The person who wore the Halloween outfit shops at Target and the Mall! Everyone knows they are exactly the same, but if Wal-Mart is a pair of support top L'EGGS then Target and the Mall are a pair of Spanx. Made in fucking Korea, ya'allllll!

The website makes me mad because I saw an interview with one of the guys who did it, and he was embarrassed by its popularity. I could see in his little face he was a little ashamed he had come up with the idea of founding the ""weirdest people" who shop at a certain store" website. These people include fat people, funny looking people, people dressed as other people, people with mullets, etc. OH! I'm so glad this website is here! Finally I can go and look at funny looking people doing normal things like buying stuff. Can you imagine what kind of fuckwad takes a picture of a "weird" person in line at Wal-Mart. Cause, you know, you have to actually BE at Wal-Mart to take those pictures? You're at Wal-Mart taking pictures on your Razr of someone else who is shopping at Wal-Mart who looks different than you. But how do we really know that? Because the "weird" person that you are taking the picture of is buying his shit, his fishing lure or toilet paper, and NOT TAKING PICTURES OF YOU ON HIS CELL PHONE.

Listen, Wal-Mart may be a vortex for creeps, and sexy grandmas, and overweight children. It may be the reason we all die of diabetes, eventually. But you have to love it's people. If you don't love its people, then you will never know love. You think I'm joking? Keep trying, then. Wait and see. You're gonna die alone, sucker. All alone. In a Merona top.

And especially, if you're gonna be a god damn Person of Wal-Mart for Halloween, then please God do not be the future of the people who will be going to people's houses to help them figure out how to navigate this awful, puke-filled world that you have done nothing to make better. Perhaps you can take a picture of your Halloween outfit with you when you go to the "People of Wal-mart"'s houses, or sit behind your little desk while some poor asshole explains to you why he can't feed his babies. You can show them that picture and say, see, see, I was once you, just like you, for a whole night and I ATE JUST FIIIIIINE!

Kitty says two thumbs down to this stupid person. Two thumbs way the fuck down.

Have You Ever Been Blacktopped?

2009-10-23T22:28:00.000-07:00

WELL! I was outside today enjoying the nice fall weather with O. Butters, doing our glitter art and whatnot, when a couple of black dudes drove by in an '89 Tercel. O. Butters, who is friendly and just learned to do it waved to the dudes and said "Hey Guys!" The dudes drove on a little ways and then put their car in reverse and zig zagged back to the pic-a-nic table position on the street and stopped. Now, you know as a kitten of the white persuasion I am always willing to do a little chit-chat with some big ol' black Tom cats. You know that. Given the nature of my neighborhood, which hosts an unofficial Bass-Off every single night and day it happens more often than not. The drive-by talking is not something I am used to, however. Below is a transcript of our conversation:

Tom Cat #1 (driver): Hello!
Me: Hello.
O. Butters: Hiiii!
Tom Cat #1: My friend wanted me to ask you a queshin [sic].
Me: Ok!
Tom Cat #1: Have you ever been Blacktopped?
Me: Umm, I don't think so. Maybe. What's that mean?
Tom Cat #1: Let me put it another way: Do you take cream in your coffee?
Me: Umm yeah. Sometimes. I mean...
Tom Cat #1: Ok, ok, ok. Let me put it another different way: Have you ever been...with a bla-ck man?
Me: Uhhhhhh. Yeah. Sure. Of course I have.
Tom Cat #1: And you got a man right now?
Tom Cat #2: lowers his sunglasses to his nose
Me: Yeah. And I don't think he'd a appreciate you talking to me right now!!
Tom Cat #2: Ain't nothin' wrong with that!
Tom Cat #1: Dat's true! Ain't nothin' wrong with that! Seems perfectly right! But I'm onna tell you what! You're a beautiful white kitty! A fucking beautiful white kitten!
Me: waving, like Princess Diana "Thank you!"
O.Butters: raises eyebrows.

And the two drive-by Tom Cats drove off into the bright sunshine.

So, I went on UrbanDictionary.com and did some research. These are the definitions I found for Blacktopping:

1. black top, n.

The "black top" is refering to the street.
Asphalt street roads are black, hence black top.

Example: Nigga1: "Yo dawg, u wanna take me, u gotta prove ur self on da Black Top"
Nigga2: "I take u down bitch, burn'n it all over ur face"

2. black top , n.

When a black female is straddled over a white male during sexual intercourse.

Example: That black nurse asked the resident doctor if he'd ever been black topped before.

Alternate: interracial reverse missionary black white riding st james

3.black top , n.

1.a very attractive dark haired woman with a nice tan.

2.an attractive hispanic looking female.

As you can imagine, this just confused me further. For I am none of these things. No combination could have been possible, unless they had a black nurse in the backseat or trunk. I think they may have taken some poetic liberties with the definition, you know? I guess that's ok. Also keep in mind I had just yesterday purchased O. Butters a pair of black high top tennis shoes. I may or may not have thought they maybe were talking about those. I know what you are thinking: Why didn't you give them your phone number, dumby?! Well, I myself have been asking yours truly the same question. I think when you masturbate to a scenario for so long, and then it actually happens, you just kind of lose your nerve. Plus, I have yet to set up a bedroom set in my garage, complete with brass candelabras and red tapered candles. But I've got a feeling this pony is going to come back around my mountain again, friends! And this time, I'm armored with Urbandictionary.com to translate!

I ENLISTED PEANUT in my urbandictionary.com search and he was distracted by this phrase:

1. black Tokyo

Random dumb niggers who think they are intelligent because they use words with multiple syllables.
Example: Black Tokyo be one dumb nigger man. God damn, I might kick a puppy just because that nigger is so stupid.

GOSH. I'm so tired. I better go to bed now and see if I can't conjure up some good time dreams! I just got a new roommate tonight, and my other roommate is pissed. I don't care what they do to each other, as long as nothing happens to me. You know that. I would be so pissed if they would just come into my room and start messing with me. It would be totally and awfully disgusting! Gross!!!!!! Right?!! Am I right here? Hello???

A Good Feeling Is A Deal You Make With Yourself To Not Be A Total Douche

2009-10-18T07:25:00.000-07:00

YOU WHEN THE LAST TIME I ASKED SOMEONE WHAT SOMETHING WAS? Never. I never once asked that question. Because unless you're standing in line at the buffet at Golden Corral or Golden Buddha then this question is ridiculous. If you can't see what something is, then maybe you should just fucking stand around and wait to see if you can figure it out. Or, maybe someone will come a long and then you can garner the info from their intellectually superior brains. It sounds like when my Granny used to come in the bathroom when I was getting my pajamas on, a Misty cig dumping ashes on the linoleum. "Well, well, well what is THIS?" What, did I say Granny? I meant uncle.

ANYWHO. This year for Halloween I have narrowed down the costume choices to be me and Professor Snatch dressing up as Mary Kay Latourneau and Vili Fualaau with an umbilical chord wrapped around his neck OR me and Peanut both dressed up like Cher so we could call ourselves Cher and Cher Alike. What to do, What to do. Every year I say I'm not going to have a Halloween party, and then every year I change my mind. I'm trying to be a more confident kitty, but I watch too much cable for that. I, too, am suppressed with the other proletariat by it. But Halloween is a way for me to show off all of the dumb shit I bought last November at Big Lots and to have a straggle of people come over and bob for apples. Last year, we had a seance and contacted Lillian Gish. Who was a total bitch, by the by. Raised by Southern Baptists, I am a kitty with a shaky constitution about things like Ouija boards. How, I asked, at the slimy age of 12, could a game mass produced by Milton Bradley be satanic? Satan is everywhere, so says the Baptists, especially Target!!

I'VE BEEN HEARING A LOT OF STORIES LATELY ABOUT PEOPLE SENDING PICTURES OF THEMSELVES IN TEXT MESSAGES. Like, pictures of their vaginas and stuff. Perhaps their pubic hair is cut into a fun shape: Disney characters or Chinese symbols. I guess some big boned secretary in Hell decided to call this "sexting." It happens most frequently among high schoolers, who snap pictures of their little turtle vaginas and send them to each others boyfriends or to their own boyfriends, or sometimes, when things are really getting Midwest, to their girlfriends! But the stories I have been hearing here in my little kitty lair are not people in high school. Has sexting expanded its horizons, or are these people holding out for a do-over? I'd really like to know. It seems these people are also having similar public networking crises: Nothing really matters. Nothing really means anything. I'd like to take this opportunity to impart some kitty wisdom. A good feeling is nothing but a deal you make with yourself to not be a total douche.

THIS WEEK ON BASIC CABLE WAS REALLY EXCITING. Made more so by the bubble boy fiasco, which this very morning was determined a hoax. I mean, am I the only one who is like, who gives a shit? So the parents got a little bored and felt really good about themselves and wanted someone to come along and check out their weather balloon. I'd take a little family conspiracy over a day at the park anyday. I hope the little boy didn't get in trouble for outing them, though. That is sort of what you get for depending on children to help you keep up a big, fat lie. Children are terrible, awful liars. Their honesty is what keeps them from floating into the heavens. This may be a technology the Heene family may want to tap into. What good television, though, right!? I think one of the best moments was when Nunny Nunnerton posted to a link about the story: "Lucky!" Cause, shit, who doesn't want to crawl into their psycho daddy's weather balloon and go careening along the Colorado sky? I bet our collective consciousnesses have sufficiently tele-loved that little boy into eternity. Or, at least college.

OF COURSE I'LL HAVE TO CUT OUT A SPOT IN THE BACK FOR MY TAIL:

Monkey Babysitter!!!!

2009-10-05T15:16:00.000-07:00

I'M SO SORRY I LIED TO PEANUT but I just can't take it anymore. The physical transformation of Kate Gosselin alone is mind boggling! And then today I read that ol' JohnBoy Fuckpudgy has cleaned out the ol' bank account. He reminds me of this kid I knew in high school who used to come over to my house a lot on his BMX and try to convince me do a push-up with my arms inside my shirt. That boy's grandmother, who I guess had never even gone so far as bought an extra can of anything her whole life for this event, bought that fucker a Dodge Viper for his sixteenth birthday! He didn't come over after that. But anyway John Gosselin is that kid, and his new gfriend, the daughter of his wife's plastic surgeon, is that Dodge Viper. Did I mention this Dodge Viper was equipped with one of those alarm systems that is the woman's voice repeating something in a fake but 'I'm kind of scared but still in control' attitude: "You knooow you don't want to MESS with THIS car!." Another similarity! We're gonna be here all night, people!

I'VE NOT BEEN THIS EXCITED TO GO TO BED SINCE I DATED THAT CHARLES BARKLEY IMPERSONATOR. I found a paperback copy of Loretta Lynn's "Coal Miners Daughter." Now, listen, I've taken the liberty of finding it online for you. Seriously, that's full text. Now, the way I've been doing it is just keeping it beside my bed and only allowing myself to read 10 or so pages every night. It's like having Loretta Lynn sitting beside your bed, in her late 30's, telling you her life story. It's a lot different than the movie, because she kind of glosses over the bad parts in the book. It's just a nice little time. But for some reason, when I've been talking about her, I've been calling her Loretta Loren. Like Sophia Loren. Which is like a joke that the idiot part of my self is playing on the really smart part, but that my really smart part thinks is really funny. You know what I'm saying? I don't care. I hate you.

I THINK IT PROBABLY MEANS SOMETHING THAT I REFUSE TO LOOK THIS GIRLS NAME UP, but the girl who plays the lead on Dollhouse is really bringing me down. I don't understand how she actually makes her eyes look like she's having sex with a much older man all of the time, but she does. The opposite male lead, whom I also refuse to look up on the internetz, is THE WORST dude on tv right now. He cannot relax his face, he always looks like he's playing some kind of russian roulette/sudoku game. But, I totally like this show. It's pretty great. I think it is the substitute for FX's The Riches. I don't know why the Nielsen families just couldn't leave on that show while they went out to dinner at Applebee's so I could watch it again. Gypsys, you know!?

I'VE BEEN THINKING A LOT ABOUT YOU LATELY. And I really care about you. Which is why I think I should just tell you up front that I can't be friends with you if you take that H1N1 immunization. I've put up too many jars of jam this year to believe that a drug developed over a five month period will not turn people into sea creatures who have to live in their bath tubs. I've got a life to lead, and I know if you turned into a sea creature then I would have to come over and bring you adult-friendly bath toys and soup. Of course you will also have to complain in meeps and gurgles about your new life in the bath tub. I'm just going to tell you now, I'm not interested.

OK, WELL. First of all, I need someone to steal this monkey for me. I've got about $65 dollars and an American Airlines credit card ready for to be partying with you.

P'dunk a crunk skunk, hunk.

2009-09-15T13:53:00.000-07:00

I DON'T UNDERSTAND why Jessica Simpson is offering a reward for her dog. I mean, if I saw my dog being nabbed by a coyote, I think I'd pretty well assume the dog long-gone dead. Perhaps in Jessica Simpson's world coyote's have small doggy collections, which they keep on their daybeds. These coyote's also have circles of friends that would be concerned enough to approach the collector-thief with "Hey man, I think you took Jessica Simpson's dog, and she's real tore up about it. Do you think you could maybe give the dog back?" And the Jessica's dog would be returned, with apologies. Hell no, Jessica Simpson. The day that coyote is going to cough up your little doggy is the day that I hire one of my furry friends to deliver a similar looking dog to your doorstep to collect the reward money.

I READ A LOT OF BLOGS. Some blogs are really great. Some blogs are really smart. But this blog is homocloset dumb-dumby. There's like, certain lines and things that you should be able to see. Especially if you are wearing white!!!!

I KNOW KATHERINE HEIGL IS REALLY BUSY STINKING UP THE PLACE, but I didn't know she was so busy that she had to go and get her baby on at the Korean Baby Shop. But she did. And her boyfriend, who is Mr. Scrubsy McDoucheface, milked that new toddler for all the headlines she was advertised for in a concert in Miami.

Is it just me or does he sound like someone who's girlfriend just lied to him and told him she was pregnant so that he wouldn't get mad at her because she quit her job at Huck's? Can't wait to see how this one turns out!!!!

I'M NOT REAL BIG ON THE KARDASHIANS, I mean not as big as say, I would be if I got to look at pictures of them standing next to tall glasses of rich dark Ovaltine. And luckily,that's just what is happening!My dreams are coming true. Khloe Kardashian has gone black. She wants everyone to know she's doing really well, and that Pdunk Pdunk Skunk makes her real happy, you know? Real real real real happy.

I CANNOT IMAGINE A WORSE PHRASE IN THE ENGLISH LEXICON THAN "TYRA IN TWO" AND THIS IS WHY:

Nice promo, Yo La Tangle.

Fuck Yeah, Kanye

2009-09-13T20:36:00.000-07:00

Clearly every time Kanye West gets angry, all of the microphones of the word turn into holographic blood-cats. Clearly.

Can You Get My Butthole Cancer?

2009-09-11T17:20:00.000-07:00

YOU KNOW, I WATCH TV SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO. But I draw the line at daytime TV unless I have the flu. When I have the flu, the TV is wilder than it really is anyway, and so daytime TV is just the Elizabeth Taylor of Network TV. But the other day, I had a toothache and O.Butter's was taking a nap, and I couldn't really focus on the six or seven hours a day I usually spend in front of the mirror cataloging skin changes. And I turn on the worst part of the daytime TV, which everyone knows is 4:00 pm. I watched a show called The Doctors. It's a panel of doctors who sit and talk about all of the things that could be wrong with you. I think one of them was a Man Chooser from one of The Bachelor seasons. He has a neck that aches to be scored and stuffed with cloves and roasted with pineapple glaze, you know this guy? Anywho. There's also a OBGYNER, and I think a pedophilatrician, and also a plastic surgeon. But lucky me this day they had a Special Guest Doctor, who specialized in butthole cancer.

To illustrate how butthole cancer works, Special Guest Doctor cut out the center of an apple and let it sit in the backseat of his car for a few days. He illustrated how the tissues of the butthole actually begin retracting by putting his fingers around said apple-hole and pulling on it. Then they listed all of the symptoms of butthole cancer, which are essentially the exact same symptoms one experiences after eating a 99 cent Taco Bell Potato Burrito. Beleeee' me. So there I sit, bummed and feeling really sorry for myself because of le tooth, and all of a sudden I've got butthole cancer.

I went on the internet, which is where an estimated (by me) 15 million people in our country go to self-diagnose when they are feeling ill. All of the butthole cancer sites were running pretty slow, which I assumed was because of the legions of people who had also watched The Doctors and were just gonna make sure their buttholes weren't going to fall out.

This is why we need healthcare reform, my fellow buttholes. If we're gonna live in a country where they have TV shows for all the different things that could be wrong with you, then we should have the healthcare networks to support the fall out. I propose that everyone in the country should start watching this show every day, really watch it, and then think about what your body (which is dying) really feels like. It hurts, doesn't it? You better go get that seen about, man. You better bring ten of your friends with you, because it might be contagious. And while you're at it, bring along some illegal immigrants to steal all the medical supplies while the nurse is out on her Mountain Dew and cigarette break.

Anyway, I found a video of what it's like to go to the free clinic:

The Vaginer Miner's Daughter

2009-09-10T19:44:00.000-07:00

I'VE BEEN DRAFTING a letter all evening to Jesse McCartney suggesting he change his first name to Paul. I think this would clear up a lot of conflicted feelings I've been having about his hit single "How Do You Sleep featuring Ludacris." It's a hot, hot track. So hot I burnt my neck while I was curling my hair with it. I really hope no one thinks it's a hicky, because I might be in a rush when they ask me who gave it to me and then I may have to accidentally say "Jesse McCartney."

WELL THEY ARE DOWN TO TWO on More To Love. This time I hit refresh a lot on facebook when I was listening to it on Hulu.com. This episode featured the production crew forcing The Man Chooser of the story to pretend like he was insecure about his weight. There was lots of "I mean...you don't care that I'm 6'3" and weigh 300 lbs...do you?" coming out of his mouth, but in his eyes there was lots of "I'm so fucking big and awesome and you like me because I've manipulated you into thinking I am the only man who will ever love you in your current physical condition by flying you to exotic locations to make you compete against several other women."

I'M NOT BEING HATEFUL, but Whitney Houston totally has dentures now. I'm pretty sure they are Bobby Brown's old dentures,in fact, because they don't fit right. And they make her sound like she's been using straw wrappers for adhesive, to boot. She looks really hot, though, besides the prosthesis.

ANYWAY. You know what I want for my birthday? For someone to use John Gosselin to bore a hole in Courtney Love. You know, I still remember that day in homeroom where you commissioned Channel One to video tape you cover yourself in a black lace table runner and fake cry over a circle of Yankee Candles, ok? So don't fuck with me. You and Whitney Houston need to have a Denture Party, wherein you put both of your pairs of dentures into a Route 44 cup and fill it full of Bacardi Rum, then take turns trying each others on and taking pictures. That sounds like a really fun party.

I'VE WRITTEN A NEW PORN. It's called The Vaginer Miner's Daughter.

The Time Travelers Cheque.

2009-09-07T09:54:00.000-07:00

YOU KNOW THAT FEELING when there's this big long book out in the world that Oprah likes and tells lots of people to like and maybe they do like it but you haven't read it, perhaps on principle, but mostly out of laziness, or a mixture of the two, and then you go and see the movie based on the book and it's pretty obvious they have just taken the most pertinent parts of the book, put 'em on film and then cut it down to 2 hours with Rachel McAdams' smile gloriously floating you along not really caring how many punks are in the parking lot of the movie theatre which is in the town where you grew up which is kind of creepy anyway but also more so because you really did have your car stolen out of the parking lot of this particular theatre many years ago and then, oh, you almost forgot the whole movie is about time travel and how epilepsy is like time travel (which it totally is) and how miscarriages are actually also embryo time travelers who travel before they are born, and anyway, you really LIKE this kind of movie, even if it means people get that look on their face like they want you to be one thing and that thing should not like these movies and it's raining really hard outside and is Peanut's birthday and you should be eating Mexican food with him instead and the whole time the movie is playing you are imagining a different movie which you will call The Time Travelers Cheque --all of a sudden it's over and even though you don't really mean it, you walk out and Professor Snatch says "did you like it?" you say "No, it was total trash." You know that feeling? I bet you do.

Unsolicited Public Service Announcement #2

2009-09-04T15:28:00.000-07:00

FAGCINE: Because insecure girls need to start putting their feelings somewhere else.

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The Spell

2009-08-31T20:28:00.000-07:00

FIRST OF ALL, FUCK THIS SHIT. I hate this. I can't stop thinking about it. Someone give him a pair of maxi pad sunglasses and get him out of the limelight. Bluh.

IN OTHER NEWS My new favorite thing on the TV is Shark Tank. It's like watching an orgy where everyone gets to keep their clothes on and the only people with erections are eating No Bake Cheesecake going "Yuuum!" But really. I guess some billionaires were all having billionaire lunches one day and decided that they weren't quite powerful enough so they bought a time slot, bought a Persian (style) rug and developed a TV show. The show is about taking the tears and sweat of every day people (who somehow have had hundreds of thousands of dollars to develop shitty products) and throwing them under their leather couches. When said everyday person asks where all his work went, the Sharks say "wha? I was in the bathroom."

There is also an inexplicably awful desire for the head DickCheese to make his personal catchphrase, how you say, popular. I won't even repeat it here. Go pull your own trigger, fuckfacers.

HAVE YOU EVER NOTICED HOW WEIRD THE WORD Facebook is? I woke up from a Nyquil nap the other day and saw Facebook in my email inbox and all of a sudden I was in some weird alternate universe. I think I was pronouncing it "Fatcha Book" or something. I am currently standing my ground on FatchaBook: No one needs to know where I'm going or what I'm doing. No one wants to know what wonderful fucking music video I just creamed to on YouTube. I mean, people WANT to know these things, sure. But it sucks the blood out of an otherwise peach-perfect complexion, if you know what I mean. All of a sudden I look down and realize I just got my feelings hurt cause someone posted a truly awful picture of me doing a Fat Time With My Own Fanny picture. Serious, awful sadness swept over me. This cannot be right. I'm taking an Update Break. Which is the first step towards taking a Posting Copious Amounts Of Flattering Pictures Of Myself To Make Up For The Fat Fanny Picture Break.

YOU DON'T LOOK VERY HAPPY RIGHT NOW. I know what'll make you happy. It's this movie here: THE SPELL It's the best movie you'll ever see. In your whoooole life.

Pass It On #1

2009-08-27T18:38:00.001-07:00

Unsolicited Public Service Announcement #1:

DATE RAPE: Because it's easier to call the cops than it is to say no.

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You're Gonna Ruin Your Career, Claire Danes!!

2009-08-20T07:29:00.000-07:00

UFO'S ARE FUCKING SCARY AS HELL. I watched the ill-pumped annual ABC special about them this week, and if you saw it you can relate, it was terrible. It was terrible and I had already seen all of the terrifying footage, including the alien coming to the window, so I was let down. But I still couldn't go to sleep with the lights off. The worst part about every one of these stupid awesome shows is that it ends with a scientific specialist doctor saying that people who say they have been abducted are actually experiencing sleep paralysis. I feel a little gyped. I have sleep paralysis episodes 'bout once every week, and I have never enjoyed a little alien bump and grind narrative. I'm usually just trying to move a pinky finger while I imagine an imaginary force is controlling my body-- nothing as insane as being pulled into a ship where probing is not only popular but required. I think the most unsettling part of the True Stories is that each one of them goes on a long diatribe saying how they don't even care what happens to them now, what people think of them, they are just going to keep telling their stories, no matter how many times they get beaten up in the McDonald's parking lot for challenging people's dreadfully human sensibilities. I mean, isn't this the kind of thinking that made Nazi Germany possible? Only, instead of the desperation caused by eating-sawdust-for-dinner-starvation what we've got here is a saturated capitalist society born boredom!

But anyway, I saw a UFO once. It looked like a tiny toy helicopter, until it landed in the field along the highway, then it was much larger and scary. I did not stop. I'm not an idiot. If aliens exist they ain't gonna trap my DNA in a pod and then plant my doppelganger somewhere to just seeee what happens. Not that I have any of those theories. At all.

I SAID I WAS GOING TO KEEP WATCHING IT BUT THAT WAS ONLY PARTLY TRUE. More To Love, the chub-love TV show. I technically did not watch it, but I did listen to it, positioned at my computer so that I didn't have to see the TV, but could hear it. I felt like I was settled nicely behind a bird blind and all of the geese were talking about their weight in truly debasing, obviously led ways. I do not know why this is happening to those women, but I can only theorize that they have done some really nasty things in their lives. I thought this show was pure of heart, and would just really allow these "normal" women to not have to compete with "size 2's" but the final straw for me was when the largest of the remaining girls in an outtake interview said "I'm just worried because I'm the biggest girl left!" AND THEN SHE GOT KICKED OFF.

THE OCTOMOM IS PROBABLY A PRETTY GOOD MOTHER. I don't know anyone else who would laugh joyfully with 14 kids screaming at her. I don't know what the difference is between a country momma making 14 babies with a RedMan pouch and Octomom doing it in the lab. I don't understand Radar.com's documentary of her, either. There were tags between scenes which said things like "Nadya is going to dinner with her friend" and then another ominous slow-fade screen would say "The children are at home with nannies." They did this over and over, as if we could not tell that the children started at zero and then were suddenly 19 weeks old. I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling, TV, and that ain't what I signed up for!

I'M GOOD AT LOTS OF THINGS. But watching My So-Called Life on Hulu.com is not one of them. I just yell at the computer screen "Just fuck Jordan Catalano! Are you serious! You're an idiot! Look at him! You're gonna ruin your career, Claire Danes, if you don't fuck Jordan Catalano this instant!" And, alternately, "I'll teach you to read Jordan. I'll be your tutor!" If I could change one thing about myself, it would be to go back in time and never watch this show, and instead listen to Nine Inch Nails like the cool kids. Buffalo Tom is and was the stupidest band, ever.

TV, I've Known You A Long Time, And I Don't Know If You Know If You're Ready. But. I Am.

2009-08-11T15:22:00.000-07:00

OH, OBAMA. I still really, really like you. But more than you I really like how you scoff when old women wearing organza scarves ask you if you are going to make them choose the day of their death. But this video is the very best video I have seen on the matter, only because at about :22 seconds, over top vigorous seemingly hollow chanting someone yells "Happy New Year!" You don't have to watch the rest of it. Unless you like dumb people who are angry, in which case there's four more minutes of that. I checked.

HULU IS THE ONLY REAL FRIEND I HAVE LEFT AFTER THE ACCIDENT. And I really do come to her when I can't sleep, and need to talk. I came to her for this movie and spent the entire film propped up on an elbow with my hand jammed into my face, really believing on some level my good feelings for the movie were being evened out in the universe by the face-lashing. Second Skin is a documentary about several people I have dated or otherwise followed around with an extension chord and a dream. There were really interesting parts, like about what gold farming is and this one guy who does cut-out interviews wearing a blazer and t-shirt has some pretty rad ideas about how virtual living will one day be as important as non-virtual living. Seriously, that one day Earth will be a place that you can get to and see from virtual space. But for the most part it was just guys who never had anyone be like "Listen. Yeah. This is weird. And I'm not going to have sex with you if you do this." Least of all me. One particularly juicy sub-plot is about a dried up Jersey boy from Philly who signs up for a Gamers Anonymous Inpatient Recovery Program, which turns out really to just some old lady's house who's son committed suicide because, as a Gamer, he was very lonely. (PS: She totally tries to tap that Gamer's shit!)

SPEAKING OF THE TV. What, didn't somebody say TV? There's a new show out called More To Love. It's a TV show that promises to represent the average woman in America. The intro says that the average size of a woman on a reality show is a size 2, and the average size of a woman in America is a size 14. So, they get this cute chub-a-lub to pick his bride out of twenty or so "average size" women. And then, on the very first episode, I could actually hear the cottage cheese containers all over the country hitting the kitchen floor as not only were the careers of the "average size" women not included on their credits as they appeared, but their weights were shown instead! What. The. Fuck. I'm guessing Fox heard the gasps, too, since the weights no longer appear. I think if you're going to show the weights, it should be what people weigh every day, of every single person on the network, and beside every single person in the closing credits. "Larry Larryton Key Grip Weight: 425). Anywho. I'm totally still watching the show. It's really terrible and great to see people constantly encouraged to talk about the one thing they have spent their entire lives trying not to talk about. I also enjoy the rhetoric between the contestants, which at one point went like this:

Girl 1: Listen, I'm not trying to be mean, but Girl 2 does not know what it's like to grow up fat. I mean, she wasn't born that way. She gained weight after a basketball injury in college. It's not fair!

Girl 2: It's not my fault I didn't grow up fat. I actually am a pretty slim person. I just have been having a rough couple of years.

Oh, TV. Let's get married.

2009 Volksfest Celebrity Sausage Tossing Contest

2009-08-07T09:08:00.001-07:00

I DON'T MEAN TO SELF AGGRANDIZE but last evening I went to Volksfest at our local Germania Manicor. It is essentially a place for people of German herrrr'tage to get together and be caricatures. I loved every minute of it, especially after the sixth or so pitcher of beer. In the great hall, there was a big German band and a dance floor. Need I say more? Ok, yes. There was some dancing. But you know what else there was! A contest! You know how much I love contests! This particular contest integrated two of my very favorite things in the world: sausage and tossing. To sign up for the contest, however, you had to be a celebrity. The other celebrities were people from various sports teams and the entire second string cast of our Fox 7 News. When The Sha went up to sign us up, they asked her what celebrity she was, so she said we were from University of Southern Indiana English Department.

It was time to get up and do the business. I waved wildly and famously to a crowd of drunk, perplexed on-lookers who no doubt were thinking 'She ain't ever been on the tv. No tv of mine, anyway'. Luckily, The Sha kind of looks famous, in a general 1940's movie star way. The contest involved The Sha in a blindfold tossing sausages behind her, while I waited behind a line holding an apron with a pig wearing some kind of horned skull cap on it. I had to catch the sausages in the apron. Everything was going smoothly until on a particularly hard catch, my nips may have come out over my dress a little bit. I heard a collective gasp from the audience. I stuffed 'em all back in, and went back to more sausage catching. We won third place, beat out by the weirdo weather people and some triple A baseball pitching coaches.

In our post-contest interview, which was recorded by some hair bear with a Flip, we were asked, (because we were representing USI English Department): "How do you think Shakespeare prepared you for the sausage throwing contest?" to which my reply was a slurred and mock-sultry "In every. single. way. possible!" I don't think he was even recording. After that, I went to find my shoes, which I had taken off before the contest. Some toupee had horded my shoes, and insisted that I go stand at my seat so he could toss them over everyone behind his back. I caught them, of course I caught them, I've been dragging these Target sandals through literal shit all summer, I wasn't about to give them anymore unnecessary exposure to my adoring fans.

To end the night, I'm pretty sure I asked a cop what kind of person becomes a cop?!!! Which is never, ever the right question to ask a cop when you are waiting on a ride outside a beer garden.

Why Don't You Do The Reverse Cow and Go On A Diet?

2009-08-03T16:35:00.000-07:00

YOU KNOW what I like to do when life is following me around asking to smell my pits but I haven't worn deodorant? Go to places that have seemingly no fun value! One of these places is the casino. The best time to go to these places is after midnight. You can smell the Cool Water cologne from miles up the river. After going through the work of signing up as a new Harrah's member, Peanut and I hit the nickel slots, where we both won $40! But then lost it on the quarter slots. There is now no smoking in a casino, which is a lot like telling your grandma that heaven will have no hairspray. It kind of makes you think twice about going, honestly. Not that I even really need to smoke, I don't, but what will dangle precariously from the end of my fingers as I jiggle my legs in a frenzy as the Double Diamond drops? This particular casino is in Metropolis, IL-- home of Superman. I forgot to go and look at the statue.

I'M ENVIOUS of places like neighboring Paducah, KY. They are in the necessary rut that supports stores that have otherwise been destroyed by changing modes of fashion. In the Paducah mall (which housed the Starbucks) there was a Claire's, a Hot Topic, a Gadzooks AND I think I even saw a County Seat. What is the magic to this hold pattern? No, seriously. I don't know. I want to know.

I ALSO SAW FUNNY PEOPLE. It was ok. As one would imagine, it wasn't very funny. But I don't think most of the people that were there to see it had deduced this. People were confused, and worried. Adam Sandler was an emotional wreck, pretending not to be an emotional wreck. The best part of the whole movie was when Peanut and I went back to the hotel and made this video:

I'll Tell You That I'm Happy If You Want Me To.

2009-07-22T08:43:00.000-07:00

ELIZABETH TAYLOR is such a kook! I just finished reading "The Last Star: The Story of Elizabeth Taylor" by my very favorite biographer Kitty Kelley. I find it fascinating that Elizabeth Taylor is still alive. I find it, therefore, absolutely amazing that Elizabeth Taylor has someone send out tweets for her saying that she is not in the hospital over MJ, but that she is still very sad. Just not THAT sad. In my strife to become a collector of something not expensive and only marginally succeeding as a collector of milk glass (you should see those hateful old bitches at estate and garage sales about the milk glass-- twice they have actually out bid me and then turned to me, apologetic, and offered to sell it to me! To which I have, both times, replied: No, thanks. Your milk glass has seams.) But I have succeeded in collecting biographies of people. A majority of my collection are 80's country music stars including Conway Twitty, Dwight Yoacam, The Judds (x2), and Reba. This Elizabeth Taylor business came straight from the Library Book Sale (aka, the only day out of the year I'm not battling depression.) And I'm telling you what, this book is the best! I'm not kidding! Besides the fact that Elizabeth Taylor is grossly interesting, Kitty Kelley uses her violet eyes as some kind of supernatural trope! I'm going to make photocopies of the sections I enjoy the most just as soon as that copy machine at school breaks again and I can do unlimited copies again.

I CUT OFF MY HAIR. My longish luxurious-ish hair. My new stylist (who twisted her mouth up like a bread tie when I called her that) is named Preschas Darling. That's her legal first and middle name. She's great. I think something magical happened and now my hair will probably stay at this rad cut for all of eternity. Sure, I can get extensions when the mood strikes me. But this "comfortable bob" is here to stay. I'm also going to stay blonde, until people like me again. Up until now this has been the reaction:

"ooooh, neat!"
and:
"Oh, I thought something was wrooooong!"
and, my favorite, from a drunk person:
"I don't know why you have to be blond. You're so serious!"

I myself enjoy the cinematic feeling of emerging from the plastic gown at someone's spare bedroom hair salon. I feel the next natural step is to sign up for a typing class. At the very least I will have to take long drives in the country and plot out my feelings and future conversations.

I LIKE NEW THINGS. I also like new people that I have not known about previously. Which is why I like Chelsea Minnis and her poetry. She's so great. I'm intimidated by her frankness, and ability to say the weirdest shit and be ok. This doesn't work for me generally. Like, for the past couple of days I've been thinking of how I could work in the joke "boy, you're dick is so sweet I think it's going to give my vag diabetes!" but as of yet I have been unable to (outside of test markets.) Anywho. Look here to read two of her poems. Then take out your little plastic card and go down to da store and buy something with her name on it. Ain't nobody gonna buy your shit if you like yourself enough to get a book published if you don't buy other people's stuff. This is a scientific fact.

I HAVE GOT TO STOP BUYING VINTAGE GREETING CARDS FROM EBAY. I just feel they look so lonely. I have always been the kind of person who has a box of cards and shit to give as gifts to people who happen to stop by or are otherwise fucked. But those cards always came from ziplock bags at thrift stores and are more than half-filled with four-fold cards printed on someone's grimy Lexmark. This active search for the perfect card is stupid. Though I did get one great card, which was a picture of a little black girl that says something in a marginally racist vernacular (I guess) and the person who sent the card has written on it "I know you girls are doing your best to show the people of Charles Towne what it means to be a good Brownie!" And it did not even occur to me until I handed it to its lucky recipient that 'Brownie' did not in fact refer to the lowest grade of Girl Scout. Ho, hum.

THIS IS THE LONGEST AND BEST MUSIC VIDEO OF ALL TIME:

WELLLLL

2009-07-12T07:11:00.001-07:00

WHEN IT'S RAINING ON A SATURDAY and O.Butters is otherwise engaged, I like to watch TBS. It's like reading several books all with the same plots, none of which make any sense at all, but without giving up attention to other things like baking bread or cleaning. This weekend on TBS I saw the thrilling Jack Black movie The Holiday. I remember seeing a trailer for it some hundred years ago and thinking "I bet that'll be on TBS someday!" and low and behold, here it was, waiting like a blistered hot dog for me to chew on. First of all, Jack Black has DS, am I right? I'm not making this up. I read it somewhere. In a ummm magazine. At the library. Can't remember which one, though. And I think it's such a lovely idea to give people with DS a leading sexual role, but shouldn't all of the other characters also have DS? Cameron Diaz has, perhaps, a mild case. But Kate Winslet and Jude Law are both spit-shined high heels in velvet lined boxes.

The plot is about two women who do a transatlantic switcharoo over Christmas to avoid their boyfriends. Then, they fall in love with people who happen to show up or are otherwise involved in the stranger-woman's life. Melee's ensue. If you ever get the opportunity to watch this movie, I suggest you get a hold of some really strong alcohol or drugs and play the part of the show where Cameron Diaz walks along an English countryside feeling really blue but is unable to cry. You see, the main bug in this 2 hour flu is that Cameron Diaz cannot physically cry. She's sad, but...she cannot cry! So she is walking along, forcing her tears, please, please, come tears! But, no. I don't see how this is different from the other characters in the movie. I have known many people who thought they couldn't cry, but turns out nothing bad had ever happened to them.

I DID KNOW THIS ONE GIRL who had lots of bad things happen to her, and would cry all of the time. Mostly she cried "Raaaape!" Ba-dum poosh! (I already told this joke once at a hair salon in Carbondale, IL to two very serious hairstylists who were not impressed, and did not laugh, while me and Peanut rolled around on the floor laughing so hard we coughed blood into our hands.) But anyway, about this girl. When she cried, which was nearly all of the time, liiiiike when she saw the face of her ex-boyfriend in a pool of period blood on her sheets, or when, say, she got her car stolen at a crack house in Cairo, IL while she was waiting her turn to have sex with a Jesus-come-lately man who convinced her he could tell the future. (On that note, I believed him, too, for a minute, but not THAT long.) Anyway, she would only wipe her tears at her cheeks, maybe nostril level, to make sure there was some wetness remaining on her face in case someone may have been in the bathroom while she had started. A generous soul.

OH, BROTHER. I really want to go and see "Bruno" mostly because every person who said it was awwwwwwful I think is a total tampon. One guy on facebook has been randomly telling people how terrible and ugly and not funny it is, people who don't even ask. And you and I both know what that means! Keep it in the closet, home boy, clearly you aren't done arranging your boxes of shoes by expensiveness yet.

CHECK OUT THIS CRAZY ASS VIDEO:

The picture of the red tree made me want to weep, but as God as my witness I cannot understand which emotion it is coming from.

Senor MoonShoes

2009-07-09T14:05:00.001-07:00

IF IT'S ONE THING I HATE ABOUT TYRA BANKS, it's when she talks. I cannot imagine a worse idea than to give a supermodel a talk show, and then give her a show in which she chooses and prunes aspiring supermodels. And then, as if to officially challenge my sensibilities, she began having current, former and future supermodels on her show to talk about their supermodels problems. My very favorite/hated episode was when Tyra had on black supermodel Naomi Campbell to talk to her about the over-inflated beef the two had shared when Tyra was a sixteen year old model and Naomi was a 32 year old model. Tyra kept saying "But you know, you were full on trying to ruin my career, riiiiight?" and Naomi Campbell was laughing and saying things like "I never intended to hurt you, Tyra!" to which Tyra replied "I'm going to leave this in the past, this is my moment, I'm leaving it behind me now, no thanks to YOU, Naomi Campbell!" The next thing you know, Tyra's having obese teenagers on so she can teach them how to eat healthy. But this takes the cake: Tyra Banks gives the smallest ipods to primordial dwarfs and then gives them an m-er effing makeover!

Whyyyyyy!

WELL, ANYWHO. I watched the MJ Memorial on the tv. Well, actually, I watched half of it. It just so happened to be the day my impacted wisdom tooth needed more attention than usual, so B.B came home and sat with O.Butter while I mixed dreaming with business. I woke in time to witness lil' Paris Jackson, and of course I cried. And if you watched it, and you didn't cry, then you should be the people who go down to Ye Olde Medicine Testing Facility and get first in line. Cause we don't need you and your heartless trash-bodies.

I READ TODAY THAT my old crushy angel Edward Furlong is finally divorcing after three longish years. I spent many a seventh grade night on my backporch perfecting just the right sour and greasy look, just in case the bug-eyed hunk were to ever pull up in my alley and want to talk. Though a steady stream of Ford Taurus's came in his place, Edward did not. I hope he's happy.

ON A PERSONAL NOTE- There's a new man in my neighborhood, battling for attention with the Shopping Cart Ladies and the Snickering Middle Aged Black Men. This man is the most beautiful man on Earth. He is about 5'7", 120 lbs and has long black and gray hair which is parted down the middle and pulled into pony tails. His outfit today consisted of: a pair of purple iridescent moon boots, a pair of sweat pants that he rolled at the waist and a belly shirt that read "Too Cute!" It was like when the Shaved Ice Guy started driving his giant conversion van through the neighborhood with the creepy tape of children singing old gospel songs and I had to ask several different people if it was a tape, or did they think maybe he had actual children in there? I tried to convince O. Butter is was time to go outside, right! this! moment! - bubbles? ponies? ice creeeeam? But, no. And I saw this beautiful vision of a man scoop the air with his hands like two professional diggers as he walked around the corner, looking around as if to wonder, "Why Is No One Looking At Me?"

Well, I was Senor MoonShoes, I was!!!

Making Friends Out Of Nothing At All

2009-07-06T08:29:00.000-07:00

THE FOURTH OF JULY is always so dumb. Good thing this year I had my old friend Peanut to be with me for the weekend. We sat too far away from our piddly downtown fireworks to really be interested, and because it had rained all day the mosquitoes were out with napkins tied around their necks and forks and knives in hand. The most exciting part of the weekend was registering for the MJ ringside tickets, though this morning I received a note rejecting me. I'm not sure what would have happened if I had been chosen, but it just would have been nice to have been asked, you know?

AS IF WE DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH TURDS ON OUR MADONNA PLATE, now she's started wearing what the french affectionately refer to as 'couture'. Which is somehow different than the trash she's been sporting since forever in a way I can only imagine has to do with a price tag. And anyway, the only time I want to hear the word 'couture' is when it has the name 'Juicy' in front of it. Uh huh. You can read some very retarded words about her 'new' look straight from the designer's fingertips here.

CUSTOM DESIGNER PLATINUM GLOVES ASIDE, Beyonce be real upset about her money situation. On the radio this weekend I heard about her saying “I never imagined I would be so blessed. I just wanted to be financially stable, and it embarrasses me, and I don’t feel comfortable talking or thinking about it. I’m not a flashy girl, and I don’t flaunt it.” On top of this, she also used the word 'mortified' -- which I loved! I always feel a certain kinship for people who use this word. But anyway, I wish more people were embarrassed by money. I can't even take birthday checks without feeling ugly. But anywho, I think it's puzzling and interesting how part of Beyonce's break-out from the pastel n' spandex hell of Destiny's Child had much to do with her ability shovel more gold coins than anyone else into her gold coin fed media machine. I mean, I love her, don't get me wrong. I do. I'd kiss her knees if she tripped. But don't pretend like it isn't mostly because she has to work really hard at not having her eyes cross every time she smiles, n'kay?

DON'T JUDGE ME but I went to see The Hangover this weekend. I really wanted to see Obsessed at the cheap movie theater, but after a traffic melee Peanut and I had to go to a real theater instead. We had received some faulty information from Fandango about the start time of the Maya Rudolph movie Away We Go, so when we arrived the only movie that we could see was The Hangover. I mean, we could have seen Public Enemies but the conclusion was reached that if they couldn't come up with a better way to draw us in than a picture of Johnie Depp (or Deep, as my mother says) in a black trenchcoat then we were going to wait out for Netflix. Also, Peanut and I get very sleepy after 10:30 and without someone promising to stay awake, we could have come out of that theater with babies in our hair.

Now, listen, I know we are friends, and I care about what you think of me. And yes, of course, the movie was totally terrible. And though the grand we dropped on the giant tub of soda and seats next to a big white girl who thought if she repeated everything that the characters said that she thought was funny to her tiny, black old-man boyfriend then it'd be double the fun! was hardly worth it, Zach Galifianakis was pretty darn funny. His ironic (is it really, doe?) dress aside, he was a bright and shining star in a film about things going wrong. Even Ed Helms (whom I love) must be late on his mortgage, cause he was pretty dumb in this movie. Here is a good article about Zach G. and while you are reading it, try to imagine him with his penis inside an old woman's mouth, blocked only partially by a row of Naugahyde fringe.

I FEEL SORRY FOR MYSPACE, suffering after a bidding war gone wrong with Facebook, the rightful winner. Sadly the only reason I like Facebook better is because I can hide people's updates. Then, I can go to their pages and see what they've been up to. Oh? redoing your bathroom, huh? Oh yes, I think seashells and glass beads are going to look great in there. What's that? My advice? Yes, my only suggestion is that you also include a bowl of individually wrapped Reese's Peanut Butter cups on the sink. You do that and you've got yourself a friendship!

Tater Haters

2009-06-28T18:47:00.000-07:00

I'M NO GENIUS, but this MJ News is clearly a battle risen from the bowels of the USA. On Facebook, it is sparking wildly heated debates between fifteen year old girls who look like Annie with DS and their liberal counter-counter parts. On CNN.com there's a pretty nasty debate in the comments section after a video of the House of Representatives (prompted by Jesse Jackson Juniah, no relation) taking a moment of silence for MJ was posted. No one in the comments made the suggestion that even if anyone on the floor was opposed to taking a moment, it would have seemed in very poor taste to start an argument over what was over before anyone could sign out of their twitter accounts and get down to the real business of drawing dollar signs in the air with their eyes.

One of my favorite comments was:

June 26th, 2009 4:35 pm ET

The trully sad thing about Michael Jackson is that justice was never served, a repeat serial pediofile…………. Well I assume that the management at a higher plane has appropriately assign him his place in eternity…..

Yes, MJ, you will only get to be a flight attendant on that plane, I guess.

WELL, WELL, WELL LOOK WHAT WE HAVE HERE, written by our old friend and favorite expensive looking pair of earrings Lisa Marie Presley.

Baby Here and There

2009-06-26T08:37:00.001-07:00

I'VE GOT A FRIEND (Julai Whipple). She's got a boyfriend (Jason Poland). She and her boyfriend were in this movie:

NOW THAT YOU HAVE SEEN WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE, YOU SHOULD BE EVEN MORE INTERESTED, NO? They've got a website, which features cartoon babies, amongst other activities. It is called www.babyhereandthere.com. I would like for you to go and look at it, and when the time is right, sign up in the appropriate places. And when the time is really, really right buy a copy of the zine.

Your friend,
Harrison Ford.

The Michaelorette! (Ann Curry)

2009-06-25T19:25:00.000-07:00

I don't know how NBC did this "impromptu" biography on Michael Jackson so quickly. I think I remember, somewhere in the way back of my awful mind, someone telling me once that newsgroups have these biographies already in development, and when someone dies, they just make up the time since it was last worked on. I could have made this up. It seems awfully likely. All of that footage, just lined up and working it's little heart out for us, gleaning over the parts of MJ's life like it was just a "rough patch" even though when it was going on, they were the ones who nailed his little child-size bottom to the wall.

Oh, I know. After 'Bad' it was all kind of downhill and weird. I myself was on his side all the way to and a little past "Black or White." But, let's not name names here. If anyone ever got stuck at an age, it was old MJ, and I'll tell you like I told Fuck Face on Facebook: Children can't molest other children! It's like saying a butthole is raping a turd!

YET ANOTHER REASON I HATE MADONNA can be found here. Who asked her, anyway? I remember seeing her on MTV once making fun of Bubbles, MJ's chimp. Jealous of a chimp! Oh, Madonna, you're a crumbling leg cast in the closet in my heart!

I GUESS I BETTER SAY SOMETHING ABOUT FARRAH, but I'd rather let Ann Curry do it:
"If the 70's are sexy Farrah, and the 80's were serious Farrah, then the 90's were unconventional Farrah."

BUT ANYWAY. MJ (and marginally, Farrah Fawcett, but come on) really saved Governor Sanford's ass. Not that anyone believes he was having an affair with a beautiful Argentine named Maria. Drop the 'a' and add an 'o' and you've got yourself a deal, Mark!

MY FAVORITE PERSON OF THE WEEK WAS this girl in the background during Governor Sanford's ejaculate cleaning up party. She stood behind the Governor and smiled and laughed the whole time, as if to say "I bet I am on tv right now, aren't I! I knew I should have splurged for those braids. Fuck!" Here's the video again, fast forward about six minutes in and enjoy her bright whites:

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

ON INTERNET TV LATELY, I've been watching Web Therapy. It's pretty funny. I can't wait for them to stop being so nervous about what they write though. The other thing I have been watching is Mental. The good thing about that show is A) nothing else is on, and B) the lead guy is British and his teeth are yellow. Finally, someone on TV's teeth are yellow.

OK, I'M JUST GOING TO SAY IT: I'm tired of tongues on TV! I hate seeing tongue kisses! Lips slightly parted are ok, but give me a break "The Bachelorette!" Looks like two slugs fighting over some soaking wet chiclets. I can't stand tongue kissing, ok, I mean, on TV. Only on TV, ok, so stop it!

I've been wanting to write to you all, all three of you, about The Bachelorette!, but I've made an executive decision to just let you read for yourselves. Behold host Chris Harrison's Blog about Season 6 of The Bachelorette! The best quote of the episode was:

"She knows I've got a foot fetish, she knows I was born with a big dick."

OH, TV, I love you. I don't care what anyone else says.

PS. Read this: A Garden of Earthly Delights by JCO. Just do it, I'm telling you. You'll want to origami the book into a dress jacket and wear it to dinner.

Dumb-Dumb nights

2009-06-16T21:41:00.000-07:00

For my inaugural blog, I am going to introduce you to my new favorite thing to do when I can't sleep. It's called tetrisfriends.com. This specific link will take you to my favorite game, the two minute round. I like the two minute round because you don't have to commit to a whole game, or get maliciously enticed by a tournament. I myself have fallen victim a time or two and all of a sudden it's light outside, the neighbors are all groggily rolling home in their Dodge Intrepids from factory work, and I just want to scream at them, "Listen up, asshole, don't hate me because you secretly like repetitious work!" It's a dreadful sitch.

You can also play against other "people" who may or may not exist. I have yet to do this long enough to know if they can correspond with you during the game. Once, while living with my mother, I witnessed her in this kind of talky with her online poker 'buddies.' I did not like it. I think it's downright unsatisfying.

If I'm going to beat some tetris ass it's going to be in person. I recall a particularly heated match between myself and a Mr. R. Huck at Mr. R. Devillez's house in what I affectionately (and mostly for fun) refer to as "college." College is a blur of about five years, much of which I wasn't actually attending, but rather living around or near, and very seriously thinking about, a college. So, Mr. R. Huck and I are really getting down to business on an old Nintendo, and the competition was as hot or hotter than the singed innards of the console.

I lost. Not by much, but it was painful. The other boys in the room pretended not to notice the depths of my defeat. I tried to challenge weaker players, defend myself, by everyone just let me suffer. They were all eating tacos, instead. Perhaps someone was blowing up an air mattress.

But anyway, the very best thing about tetrisfriends.com is the music played during the game playing. It's basically like sitting at a gay bar, but without all of the tan lines.

ANOTHER THING I LIKED TODAY was cnn.com's loving portrayal of a black woman who wants to write for tyler perry and her UFO video. Deena Smith caught the UFO on video, and then went home with her family to pray. I loved the video, yes, as I especially love these that have unqualified interns pretending to either verify or rebuke such findings. What made me kind of angry was that Deena was obviously saying some really funny shit when they were doing the extra filming that wasn't her talking about the UFO. She was giggling in a way that meant she was probably making the interviewer laugh, too. But Cnn.com is not in the business of launching anyone's comedy career, so they didn't give any sound to the clips. Shame on you, Cnn.com!

ONE LAST THING before I go. I can't stop reading this article about the man who shows up 60 years later saying he had been kidnapped. Oh, precious DNA, why do you take so long. Aren't we doing that instantly yet? I'm pissed I have to wait for the results, honestly. I wonder what took him so long. I've been thinking it probably has something to do with a psychic, or perhaps some good old fashion regression therapy. I suppose it's just as likely he had a couple of hours on his hands and a deft capability for micro-film machines.

ALSO, watch this. It's funny.