I have a pretty regular routine in the morning before work – I turn on the news while reading the news online and checking email and petting the dog. Multi-tasking. This morning, one of the “news” stories was about how Jessica Simp(le)son lost weight getting ready for her role as Daisy Duke. It was the usual story (chicken, fish, broccoli and asparagus) (when it was probably really diet pills, diet Coke, low self-esteem and colonics). While talking about her diet, they showed a clip from one of her videos. I guess she’s a musician too? Don’t know and don’t really care. So, in the video, she is wearing a bikini and washing a car. WTF? What is the dealio with half-naked women washing cars lately? I keep seeing that image everywhere.
I know, I know – men like naked women and they like cars, so when you put the two together – blammo. If that’s the thinking, why don’t we combine some other stuff? Why stop with cars? Men like chili, so maybe there could be a video with a naked lady cooking up some chili or eating a chili dog (then you get the phallic thing in there) while wearing nothing but an apron. Men like playing video games – why not hide some naked women in the game? Oh, wait. Okay, men like to poop. Perhaps a cutie naked from the waist down taking a poo on the loo?
Just some suggestions. I’m a girl, so what do I know? Actually, I wouldn’t mind seeing a guy washing my car. He doesn’t have to be hot; he just needs to do a really good job.
Here’s a picture from a recent trip to the mall. My method of transportation is on the left (duh). I wonder what’s wrong with the guy driving the truck? Originally, I’d parked a row over. When I saw this photo op, I moved my car. Life is all about noticing the small stuff (or in this case, the ridiculously oversized stuff).
Saw a Hummer commercial the other night (probably while watching Dog the Bounty Hunter). Talk about false advertising. It depicts a Hummer driving around the frozen tundra. A civilian Hummer can do no such thing, as they are nothing more than Chevy Tahoes with a fancy covering on them, much like a toaster wearing a toaster cozy.
Wonder if you can still buy toaster cozies? I’ll bet that shitty catalog (Lillian Vernon) with all the kitty cat tee shirts in it sells them. Probably has a toaster cozy that features cats on it, actually.
Today is Stella’s first birthday. In honor of her special day, she got some chicken on top of her dry doggie food. James made her a birthday hat and I took some pix of her wearing it. Well, not really wearing it so much as trying to fling it off her head. She may be a toy breed, but she doesn’t behave like one. She will NOT be put in a purse. She will NOT wear stupid outfits. She will NOT take any shit from big dogs. She’s totally badass. For a 5.5 pound dog.
I feel for the family of that high school girl who went missing in Aruba. I really do. BUT, I have to say that if the person was an overweight girl (or boy) of color who wasn’t from a rich family, we wouldn’t have heard shit about it.
My friend Lisa is a total Astrophile. I, on the other hand, have a passing interest that has grown to almost interest. Last season, I was watching a game and decided Morgan Ensberg was “my” Astro. There was something about the asshole way he kept walking out of the batter’s box to throw off the pitcher that I liked. That, and he has really, really great hair (when it isn’t shaved off).
Magic tricks are one of the best things ever. If I’m at a party and someone is doing magic, that someone has my rapt attention. Assuming the magic is good. Or I’m drunk. Six of one.
There’s a new magician on the scene, and by “the scene,” I’m referring to television. I’m sure there’s some place where magicians hang out in groups, but I don’t live in Vegas, so TV is as close as I get.
In previous entries I’ve mentioned the show Dog the Bounty Hunter. If I have indeed figured out how to post pictures to this freaking blog, you should see a lovely shot of Dog below.
Nevermind. Anyway, so right after Dog is a magic show, Mindfreak, with a jackass named Criss Angel. The thing is – I don’t think he’s doing magic. The way the show is filmed, I could do the “magic” he’s doing. For instance, he’ll climb into a trash can, have people hold the top of the trash can down, there’s some rock music and fast edits, then he appears on top of a building across the street. Shit, give me a crappy video camera and a friend who knows how to edit and I can do the same thing.
I won’t have the metro-homo sexual vibe that Criss (nice spelling) does, though. Plus, I don’t like to wear that much makeup.
The 7-minute ride to work this morning was an exercise in tedium and good stuff. For the tedium, turn to Houston’s new talk radio station – 97.5. I’ve tried listening to it a) to support a new endeavor in Houston and b) because I know at least three of the DJs (or whatever they’re called when they’re on the radio but not spinning discs). This morning while driving up the parking garage behind a HUGE F-150 sporting a Calvin praying to a cross and an American flag sticker motif, I listened to some jackass talking about W’s new pick for the open spot on the Supreme Court (with cheese). The jackass was saying that this was a chance for Democrats to silently slit their wrists and for “patriots” to rejoice that this guy won’t let America keep killing its unborn babies (but continue to kill its youth by sending them to Iraq, evidently). “Patriots,” of course, being Republicans. I’m so tired of hearing that shit. It’s not carefully thought out discourse, it’s bullshit. It’s all flash and no substance. It’s sound bites. It’s Fox News channel. It’s Anne Coulter saying on television that “liberals want a liberal supreme court so they can legalize sodomy.” I’m not kidding. She really said that. Yeah, that’s the true liberal agenda. We all want to legalize sodomy. Hit the nail on the head. Or the ass, I guess.
Last night on the same station some other jackass was talking about various celebrity Democrats, only changing the sex of each to the opposite, as in, Sean Penn was “she” and Susan Sarandon was “he.” Wow. That’s some of that there intellegencia I keep hearing so much about. I realize my calling these people jackasses is along the same dumbass lines, but I’m writing in my blog, not talking on the radio in the fourth largest city in the nation. And since this is my blog, I can say that all those patriots out there can kiss my white liberal ass.
The cool thing this morning (and it pales in comparison to the bullshit, but it’s all a girl has) came from a Kanye West song I heard. “I’m not a businessman. I’m a business, man.”
When your snoring gets to the point that you’re waking yourself up, it’s time to do something. I bought some Breathe-Right strips to wear for the duration of this cold. Sure it was somewhat humiliating standing there in front of the “so you snore like a man” section of the pharmacy, but what can you do. The strips come in two sizes – small/medium and large. On the box it says that most adults wear the small/medium size. How nice for the big schnozz owner to have to buy large. Even worse – the person who thinks he has a regular sized nose but actually needs the big boy strips. Lucky for me, I could slip into a small. Once I put the strip on, I could plainly see right up both nostrils. What was the point of buying the clear strips? The strip could have been neon green and still wouldn’t have been as distracting as my enlarged air holes. Probably could have seen brains if I’d had a strong enough flashlight. The amount of air coming in my clogged nose certainly increased, so that was good, but I had nostrils like the bull Bugs Bunny used to play matador to. Sexy.
[small aside – I heard a nasty rumor that Bugs Bunny is getting a makeover and will be a more “hip” character – I liked the first makeover back in the day when he went from a petty, mean character to a smartass crossdressing one – plus, those cartoons were the only place I heard opera or classical music as a child – or adult for that matter – I’m sure that’ll be shitcanned in favor of more “hip” music, too]
Seems the original “Cooter” (don’t be nasty, I’m talking about the Dukes of Hazzard TV show) ain’t too keen on the new Dukes movie coming out. Here’s a quote:
“Basically, they trashed our show,” said Jones, who now lives in the mountains of Washington, Va. “It’s one thing to do whatever movie they want to do, but to take a classic family show and do that is like taking “I Love Lucy” and making her a crackhead or something.”
Can you imagine Lucille Ball as a crackhead? If she got into some scrapes as straight-as-an-arrow Lucy (except for marrying a brown man – that was pretty open minded for the time), just think of the bullshit she would get into as a crackhead.
Went to the store tonight and saw “Old Yeller” dog food. Um, didn’t Old Yeller have to be put down by his owner? Shot in the head or something? Why in the hell would you want to buy Old Yeller dog food for your pooch? Unless, like the mafia’s kiss of death, it is a symbol of impending doom for Max or Spot or Sam. The dog goes trotting over to his bowl and sees you putting the dog food bag away in the cupboard. He’s pretty sure he sees “eller” just as the bag disappears. He begins to make plans to slip out of the house when on his evening poo. But he’ll kill the cat first.
I really liked Big Moe’s song “Barre Baby” that came out a few years ago. Didn’t understand the reference of “Barre,” so I did some internet research. Found out it’s a brand of cough syrup. The song is about nipping on the cough syrup with maybe a little soda mixed in for a nice buzz.
Having taken Nyquil for the past two nights, I see why people might get into drinking it if they were looking for an escape. I feel like I have an invisible layer of marshmallow surrounding both my brain and body. I’m definitely not as mentally sharp as I think I usually am. And I don’t care. Because of the marshmallow.
So if you see me at Kroger loading up on the Nyquil, just walk the other way. Not that I’ll recognize you anyway. Marshmallow.
– watched “White Noise” last night – okay, that movie kinda scared me – I think it’s because I can totally see myself sitting in front of a static-y TV screen and witnessing someone from the other side trying to talk to me – yes, I would wet my pants – then again, can you even make your TV go static these days?
– it’s really hot
– I wish W would go down to Florida and go swimming off the coast with a bloody steak tied around his neck
– Simon LeBon didn’t get the words to “Save a Prayer” right at Live 8 – Duran Duran still did a lot better than Def Leppard – songs like “Pour Some Sugar On Me,” which were super sucky when they came out, haven’t aged well – especially when being sung by a sweaty, chubby, 40-something
– if you take a drug for social anxiety and one of the side-effects is diarhhea, wouldn’t you still be anxious? Maybe even more-so?