Twat did you say?

Whew! End of the year is b-a-n-a-n-a-s, no? But I simply cannot wait for Xmas- I LOVE giving presents! Caved in to the Apple brainwashing and picked up a Nano w/ portable speaker system for my hunny. He's gonna flip.

An-t-way, here's the thought I tried to get out last week:

Listening to the local classic rock station on the way home- DJ announces birthdays- Don King. Proceeds to tell the story of meeting him shortly after 9/11. DJ's in the lobby of a hotel, waiting to interview Enrique Iglesias when Mr. King walks in, holding two flags, smokin a big stogie and announces, "God bless America! It's a good day to be alive!"

Says hello to the DJ- he loves The Beatles, invites him for a drink at the bar. Then invites him to dinner. DJ explains Enrique situation, DK says to bring him along and they'll have a good old time.

At the end of the story, the DJ explains, "It was totally surreal. And at the end of the night, I checked to see if I still had my watch." -cut to commercial.

UM, WHAT?

Which reminded me-

A Dirty Shame had it's moments. But I felt as if John Waters underlined the statment he's made so well in the past. I'm sure he picked Knoxville because in an interview, he called the Jackass crew "sexual terrorists." In a good way, natch. For those who did not see the movie- people against sexual expression were called "neuters." And it took place in Maryland.

My best friend from high school, Marybeth, was a virgin for the longest. Once, she didn't let a guy go down on her because she was "wearing stupid underwear." At least that was the excuse she gave me. She finally gave it up to a mutual friend's roommate.

"It was like trying to fit the Goodyear Blimp through that window." However egomaniacal the description, as a six foot five Greek man, I'm sure it wasn't far from the truth.

Her parents did a number on her. I remember her mother's advice (no doubt for my benefit) saying masturbation paved the road to hell. At the moment, I can't remember the context- probably traumaticly blocked out. She also said that if you let glasses air dry in the dish drain, you'll get rickets.

Marybeth slept with my boyfriend and that was the end of our friendship. He took her to get a perm one Saturday....yes, a perm... we didn't have a car. An amazing snow storm hit and everything shut down around 3pm. Around nine o'clock, she comes strolling in- her hair looking like Rosanne Rosanna Danna. Before she could set foot in the door, I was there, "Did you fuck him?"

Taken-a-back by the question, she immediately denied it.

I reiterated, "Tell me now and we can still be friends," which was the truth. But she stuck to the bullshit story about the car breaking down.

A few months later, my cousin and I stopped by Maryland to visit her, since she lived with her parents at the time (cousin and I moved to Florida for very three months). She sobbingly confessed to schtupping my man. So I was done with her. I don't take kindly to people making me look like a jerk.

But beforehand, we had dinner.

Her parents ordered a couple of buckets of chicken, all the fixins. Out of nowhere, the father asked the brother, "Know why a stack of white bread comes with it?" Probably for my benefit, again.

He continued, "Because that's what the niggers eat with their meals."

UM, WHAT?

Wozzle Wuzzle? That's what passes for entertainment these days?

I have a real story all though out, but I'm feeling lazy today. Probably from all the snow I've been shoveling this week...

So this is all you get:

Has anyone else seen these Amp'd Mobile commercials? I generally press the mute button... except for last night. Again- lazy.

Incase you don't know- the commercial starts with a "rock-star" looking guy apparently OD'ing in a hotel room. One maid yells at him in Spanish while the other just stands there. They cut to black and you hear a "patooey!" Apparently she spat on him because he's stupid enough to die before this phone comes out.

The other commercial has a little more airplay- a scantily clad hooker violently resuscitating a senator john hanging off the side of a double bed in a cheap hotel room. Again, begging him not to die before he can buy the phone.

Now, I realize growing up American has desensitized me somewhat to television violence, but come on! There's a line. Understandably, they are supposed to be tongue-in-cheek. But to successfully pull that off, it should be funny, no?

There's nothing remotely amusing about opening a commercial with a skinny shirtless pasty man convulsing on the floor.

Am I wrong?

I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty

Quite a few years ago, and a whole other coast, my friends and I made frequent trips to the northern Tijuana (minus the donkey shows), better known as Vancouver. With an awesome exchange rate, the shopping was to die for! Cheap booze, over the counter codeine and all the designer accoutrement your, ahem, trunk could hold.

And suddenly, there was Lush. The only one in North America at the time. I became a junkie for their Potion Lotion (since discontinued) and Lush Pud bomb. The one redeeming quality about my apartment was the ceramic claw tub (Lord knows it wasn't the 3 foot by 5 foot kitchen. Seriously. The fridge was in the livingroom). Bath time became sacrosanct.

Now they're sprouting up all over the place, including NYC. And my husband's stocking is filled with lots of wonderful things For Him. My strategy is to get him hooked, so paying $30 for a bottle of shampoo won't seem unreasonable.

He's already addicted to Philosophy's Cinnamon Buns. At a full foot taller, he's constantly sniffing my hair. So ladies, if you don't know nothin' bout no cinnamon buns, DROP EVERYTHING and go buy this product. You'll smell extra delicious and utterly irresistible. Double Dutch Buck Split promise.

Off the Gancho

Poor, poor Mexico. First western Texas, now this:

 (Mexican Foreign Secretary) Derbez 
      insisted his country's position over 
      physical barriers was not only in 
      relation to the United States. 

      "Mexico voted against the fence 
      Israel built in the Gaza Strip, 
      and against the fences Spain 
      built in Melilla and elsewhere," 
      he said. 

Yeah, we did the same thing in high school as sophomores; signing petitions against banning the junior/senior smoking section, so when our number was up we could site precedence too. And just like Mexico, we weren't fooling anyone. And we always got caught sneaking a butt between classes; no matter quickly you try to hand the cigarette to that stupid Freshman, Damien LaNagro, who thought he was soooo cool because he could do that dumb open/light a zippo on the side of his jeans.

Speaking of unfortunate souls, check out Bitter Waitress' Shitty Tipper Database. Which ranges from the not-so-shocking Lauren Hill and Jennifer Lopez to a disheartening Guy Ritchie and Willem Dafoe. Really, Willem, HOOTERS? Bobby Peru wouldn't be caught dead in that place. Although, according to the waitress, she gave "god service," so maybe the compensation was appropriate...

You can also search the database and make fun of people when their name comes up (I'm looking in your direction, Jim)..after you've made sure your own name isn't listed, naturally.

Sweet

Newsweek linked my blog because I included one of their articles in a recent post. Exxxxcellent.