Thursday, June 19, 2008

Attack of the Killer Underwear!

Every once in a while you've got to let someone else be the celebrity. That, I suppose, is what happened when I took my baby beagle with me to the summer camp tonight. My friend was speaking to the kids, so I was there to lend moral support (and truthfully to get out of the house a bit. There are only so many episodes of Cops that one man can watch in his lifetime.) Anyway, my dog--Shorty, who has somehow forgiven me for giving him that name--is apparently quite skilled at attracting the young female sort. I've never seen a dog celebrity before, but the way people lost their minds over the 9 week old puppy must be similar to what happens to, say, Katie Holmes on a day-to-day basis. (And no, I'm not referring to her looks, either, although now that I mention it...) I'm sure my parents knew about this phenomenon when I was growing up, but it's a shame nobody chose to share it with me when I was a teenager. So many women I could've attracted! As it was, I had to use my wit and charm to finally attract my wife. No wonder it took me 30 years to get married!

So anyway, on to things that have happened today that make me wonder when the apocalypse might be coming, and if it wouldn't mind hurrying up and getting here...

I have to say that I'm glad that I don't live in the UK, where people actually care about David Beckham and spend large portions of the day thinking or reading about him. It's bad enough that we here in the states have to witness him clad only in a pair of tighty whities, teabagging the camera, in Macy's ads running in (where else) San Francisco. But then again...America does have Brangelina and TomKat and ObaMcCain... Second thought, anybody know what the going rate is on a nice place in the Cotswolds?? As long as the Brits understand that I'll never call soccer "football."

London is also home to Amy Winehouse, whose latest blood sample consisted of 5% alcohol, 20% hallucinogenic drugs, and 75% black tar heroine. According to what I read, she's still hospitalized for essentially Being Amy Winehouse, which I actually think might be a new medical diagnosis. (Symptoms, drunkenness, passing out, generally failing at life, yup, that's B.A.W.! Take two hits of acid and call me in the morning.) Y'know, I respect the woman's music, but I'm amazed at how we as the general public are willing to just sit and actually watch her literally die in front of our eyes. I actually heard someone say this once: "she needs to stay on the drugs, because if she doesn't, her music will start to suck." You know what? That's okay if that happens. If she can never write another note of music, the woman just needs to get well. Let's face it; if you were in the same hospital with Amy, you'd be disinfecting everything you saw her touch. (I can hear the nurse now: "Which tests do you want run on Ms. Winehouse, doctor?" His reply? "All of them.") I thought "Rehab" was a fun song, but I'd much rather see her fade into obscurity if it meant her survival.

Speaking of high class individuals, how about that Charlie Sheen? I read a transcript on the Smoking Gun a couple of weeks ago of the voice mail he left for Denise Richards, his ex-wife in which he called her an effing C-word and an effing N-word. Now the first one I understand, but to use a racial slur against Denise Richards doesn't make a whole lot of sense, since she's so white she's almost clear. That's like calling Osama bin Laden an effing Jew or Chris Rock an effing cracker. Anyway, nobody ever accused ol' Charles of being fully in charge of himself, but if you look through some of the files at The Smoking Gun (note: language, not work safe) on the topic, you'll probably choose to never ever financially support Mr. Sheen or his movies ever again. For those of you who don't care to read, here's a basic script of their interactions:

Denise: Charlie, you need to stop breaking furniture and having sex with transsexual hookers right now, or I'll leave you, or at least make you boil yourself before I'll touch you.
Charlie: F you, you effing N-word. I'll ruin your life!
Denise: That's it! You get out of here right now!
Charlie: No.
Denise: OK.
(Rinse and repeat for roughly 5 years.)

Oh, and Jamie Lynn Spears had her baby. Hopefully they'll go ahead and get the little girl spayed to keep any more stray Spears children from over-populating. The family was unavailable for further comment because they were busy fixing up the double-wide next door as a nursery. Next up for the former Zoey 101 star, a five week seminar which will teach her how to place a quarter between each knee cap and not let it drop until she's either (A.) married to Kevin Federline or (B.) at least finished breast-feeding the first baby.

But there is one story out there that has restored my faith in humanity today. I'm sure you'll agree with me that there could be nothing more horrendous than for a person to be viciously attacked by their underwear, but sad to say, it has happened. The unfortunate victim is one Macrida Patterson, a 52-year-old Los Angeles traffic cop, and she has filed suit against Victoria's Secret, claiming that her thong panties turned against her by launching a missile attack directed at her corneal region. (That's part of the eye, you perverts.) I promise this is a true story. You just can't make stuff like this up. Apparently a metal staple that was used to hold on a rhinestone heart could no longer live with itself and was forced to commit suicide by catapulting from Ms. Patterson's butt-floss, hitting her square in the eye. Patterson wants to sue Victoria's Secret for selling her the faulty unmentionables. I contend that this occurrence is just the universe trying to tell us two things: (1.) Traffic cops are so useless and disgusting that even their own underwear doesn't like them. (2.) It's unacceptable for those who are well into their middle-age spread to try to wear underwear that is designed to be worn by 18 year olds in stiletto heels.

Anyway...that's the news as I see it today. Oh, and by the way, if any of you are considering upgrading your browser to Firefox 3, I urge you to think twice. I have been massively unimpressed by its performance, and I'm considering downgrading back to Firefox 2 until they work the kinks out.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Random Ramblings

I'm finding the music and entertainment news section of Google today to be relatively vapid and uninteresting. I know, I know, how's that different from any other day, right?

It seems like when I was a teen it was easy to get excited about what Metallica was doing or wondering what was going to be Run DMC's next single. Nowadays it's like who cares? Maybe I'm growing up to be my dad, who officially stopped caring what musicians were doing at the conclusion of the 1950's. I wonder sometimes if I'll be one of "those guys" whose record collection consists only of the hot artists of my own generation and who poo-poos these new artists. I'd like to think not, and my digital collection is completely current, but there's a big difference between what's on my computer and what's physically on my CD rack.

Anyway, on to what the entertainment news du jour contains.

So, Britney Spears is moving down to be with her preggo kid sister, eh? You know what they say, birds from the same trailer flock together. Yeah, I just called Britney a bird, which I suppose is better than calling her a baby-factory, vajayjay-flashing whore. Kinda sad to see little Jamie Lynn following in her footsteps. I have to admit, I didn't realize that nine months had gone by, but I guess the time has come for the youngest Spears to add her contribution to the group of kids who will inevitably be wondering around the Spears family reunion saying things like "are you my daddy?" or "please kill me before I grow up to be one of you."

Li'l Wayne has the best selling album? Isn't he one of those guys who only shows up on other peoples' CDs?? Based on his recent singles, I'm baffled that the album even showed up. Rumor has it that Young Jeezy wasn't actually drunk when he got arrested recently; Li'l Wayne was on the radio, and Jeezy was just trying feverishly to change the channel.

I do, however, feel genuinely sad for the families of Tim Russert and Cyd Charisse, both of whom passed this week, and I join the rest of you in saying "why couldn't it have been Mario Lopez?"

Speaking of overrated Lopezes, Jennifer Lopez makes an appearance at an elementary school graduation for autistic kids. She must be really getting desperate for venues. Either that or she was there for tutoring. Guess we'll find out if she starts including a "sitting down, rocking back and forth" dance move into her stage show. No word on whether any children were injured by her planet-eating backside during the event.

But the crowning story of the day is how three Brooklyn high-schoolers put chocolate laxative into their graduation cake. Now you know me, and you know I don't want anybody to get hurt, but c'mon...every last one of you know that you've thought of doing it, and you're secretly jealous that these guys actually went through with it. For me, it would've been a special cupcake for my spanish teacher. I would've ruled the school for having him erupting over the boys' room dumper. Of course, nobody would've ever been able to sneak a smoke break in there for a couple of days without the risk of a mini-Hiroshima going off, but that's the price you pay. El burrito es muy bueno!

Anyway, those are my random thoughts for the day. Enjoy.

Oh, and while you're enjoying, just thought I'd point out that Brooke Barrettsmith's new single "Farewell" is now available on iTunes. (Click the link to get it.) Just thought I'd plug it again, since she left me such a nice comment on Myspace today.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

A Few New Developments

I've begun Phase I of the re-launch of my internet presence. I figured it was about time, especially since several of you have left kind comments. (You'll never know how much they mean to me!) We've gotten settled in to our new location, and so it's time for me to get back in the swing of things, at least one piece at a time.

First: Someone or something hijacked my Myspace profile. (Am I the only one who feels like I'm stuttering when I say "my Myspace"??) I can't seem to get this resolved with Myspace, so I've thrown my hands in the air, waved them like I just don't care, and created a new Myspace profile. I'm in the process of going through the old friend list and sending out new friend requests. Those of you who were on the list before, be on the lookout for my new request. Don't delete my old account from your friend list just yet, because I want to make sure I get all of you. If you want to save me the trouble, you can visit my new profile at

While you're there, you should check out the song I have on my profile. It's from Brooke Barrettsmith, whom I hope you'll remember as being a long-time friend to this blog. Her new album is complete and available for pre-order. By the way, if you order now, you can get the CD autographed as well. For $9.97 plus shipping/handling, that's a GREAT deal. The two songs she has on her Myspace profile are both great. Check them out.

Also, Dani McCulloch shot me an email today saying that she just wrapped on her first video shoot that will premiere at the Paradiso in Memphis TN on Thursday. That's a pretty huge event, as it will be on the grand screen, and I really hate I can't be there to see it. She's got a lot of things in the works, and she's a great live performer, so check her out as well.

Friday, June 13, 2008

I'm sitting in the waiting room of the surgical ward of our local hospital, waiting for a friend to come out of back surgery. Not much humorous about that, but I'm quite grateful for the fact that the hospital saw fit to install a wireless network so that I'm able to write to keep my mind occupied, rather than having to read the mindless magazines that the gift shop keeps on hand or the dusty old books that are piled up in the corner. I've come to realize that there's a reason why people donate these old books: they're either no good or they're so widely read that everybody in the world has already read them and therefore there's no reason to retain them in one's personal collection.

I was speaking to a friend last night who I hadn't spoken to since last season of American Idol. She asked me what had happened, and I told her basically what I said in the last post here, and told her I thought it was strange that a whole season had passed, and I still had no idea who David Cook or David Archuleta are. The only exception is that I happened to hear David Cook's single on the internet the other day. I assume it's the winner's song, because it's about as cheesy as the rest of them were, only from the one time I listened to it, I can only say that I felt it was wholly unremarkable but his voice at least sounded decent.

You'd be amazed what I've found to do with Tuesday and Wednesday nights, though. Priscilla and I have found time to do some traveling, shopping, visiting, and most recently start raising a puppy and kitten.

And the world has gone on.

But don't think I've forgotten about my promise to come back to writing. I'm still working on ideas to re-launch.