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.


At 2:45 PM, Blogger Brownsoul said...

LOL! What's up, JD.

You know, I think Amy Winehouse is so tragic...and I really do love her's sad.

BTW, 30 years is not long of a wait in my opinion. It's about the time that I expected to be settling down. Imagine my surprise when at 24 I found myself taking those sacred vows.

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