Six of one, zero of the other

A wise person once approached me with a very simple, yet profound question. Would you rather come from sweltering heat into a building with cool air conditioning, or would you rather arrive from the bitter cold into a building with a nice stream of warm air circulating throughout?

The answer? Obviously the second. First of all, in the debate between whether someone would like to be hot or whether that person would like to be cold, the answer should always be "cold." There's no opinion about it; no personal feeling. It's a fact: cold is better. You can always put more clothes on when you're cold, but there's only a certain amount of clothes you can take off when you're warm. And while it's equally as fun to be bundled up for cold weather as it is to be stripped down for warm weather, the best times of the year happen when it's cold outside. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter (what's that, you don't live in South Bend when it's frickin freezing for Easter?), New Years Day, St. Nick's Day. All of these are reasons why it's cold weather is awesome. And for those, like myself, who love the night, the winter months provide darkness both in the evening and in the morning, as anyone who wakes up before 10AM (Tessa excluded, that is) will find that it's still dark out.

But this is not a debate between hot vs cold. Rather, about going from hot to cold, or vice versa. But, if it's a fact that it's better to start cold (see: above), then it stands to reason that there's only one option to choose. Think about it, when you're super hot, you don't want to touch anything. You're worn out, your lazy, sluggish, even when you come inside in the A/C, the suffocating feeling of being covered in grime and sweat really pervades any decision making you have. But, when it's cold out, you want to do thinks like bundle up under covers and cuddle, drink hot chocolate and light fires and watch Grey's Anatomy with slippers on (okay, I'm doing my best to sound like a huge chick right now. I'll stop).

So, to recap, there are people who like the cold, like going into warm places after they're cold, and there are people who suck.

Manners Suck

Have you ever gone out with some snobby assed person, or perhaps your parents when you were younger, and done something that gets chided as "bad manners?" I'm talkin like, eating with the wrong fork or spoon, drinking out of the wrong glass initially, putting your napkin in the wrong spot, or talking too loud to someone too far down the table. And your mother, or your snobby assed friend, loudly asserts that what you did is "not good manners" and you should make it a practice of never doing it again. And part of you understands that good table manners don't really cost anything and you're glad you know about them, but the other part of you wants to drop kick the person that brought your gaffe to your attention.

And see, here's why manners suck. Manners, much like its predecessor Jewish Law, seems to have a bunch of arbitrary rules that, to the casual observer, really don't mean anything and should be abolished. To their credit, at one time these "laws" were put in place to help people avoid doing bad, and aide them in doing good. But, as time went on, the focus became less and less on doing good and avoiding bad, and more and more on just the laws themselves. The rules, in essence, became the end goal. You either have your napkin in the right spot, use the right silverware, drink from the correct glass, or you don't, with no regard to how or why these became "manners" to being with. And that's just not right. Manners became what they are because when they were invented, they were normative behaviors that allowed every person at a dinner table to enjoy the experience the most. So when I don't have my napkin in the right spot but it's not affecting anyone, shut the fuck up.

Now, I do make an exception, and that is to real little kids who need to learn some basic stuff like not throwing food and not immediately spitting it back up (damn 6-month-olds). But to my grown assed self, stop.

Things I don't give a shit about

Tapping my Inner Commercial Critic

I used to have a blog where I made fun of commercials. But I'll tell you that it had limited shelf life. That being said, here's a return to that part of me




You can't just "forget" to switch to DirecTV. That's like saying, "Man, the new issue of Penthouse came today but since I never went to get the mail, I'll NEVER SEE IT." No. Not true. You can get it tomorrow. It will be in the mailbox. Right where you left it.

Same with DirecTV. You can get it tomorrow. And if you forget? You're still okay, because it's always there.

I think the producers of this one were so intent on getting the guy who played Coach that they forgot to put any effort into the script.

Wait a minute.

Did B just utilize the video feature in that last post?  And did I also see some italics and center alignment action in there?

Oh man.  This blog just went from 0 to 60 in one post flat.

And we're just heating up.

Bitches....

...Come over here and have sex with Charlie Murphy.



Chappelle's Show - "I'm Rick James" Episode [FULL] Pt.1 - Celebrity bloopers here

The best part about part one is in the beginning when Chappelle is pretend having sex with that girl and he's not even trying to make it believable, doing the deed in full robe and pajamas.




Chappelle's Show - "I'm Rick James" Episode [FULL] Pt.2 - Click here for more blooper videos

"I wish I had more hands so I can give those titties four thumbs down"

Also, note in the musical performance of "Stand Up" at the end how Ludacris drops rap's most Shakespearean of lines:

Watch out for the medallions
My Diamonds are Reckless
It feels like a midget
Is hangin from my necklace

I would like to introduce our 2008 running mate

Dude, I sold out a long time ago (earlier today).  Why do you think I selected Rick James as our blog's running mate?  We have to appeal to everyone.  And if that means pumping up our neat, middle-class, suburban writing space to attract more diverse peoples, then so be it.

In this time of Obamarama and Palinpalooza, diversity issues have been brought to the forefront ... and I want to reflect that in this blog.  I want this to be a microcosm of America.  I want freedom.  I want variety.  And dammit I want disco and drugs.  Rick James can give us all of those things.  And more.

Here is why I believe (and why Blair should agree) that Rick James is a superior choice for reeling in people of all shapes and backgrounds:

• He is beyond androgynous.  His hair is long, sometimes braided, often with sparkles ... yet he's a man.  Also, I'm pretty sure he owns more jewelry than me.  But again, a man.
• He is unarguably African American, yet Super Freak is most often karaoked by drunk sequined white girls after last call.  Sexy time.
• He's short, but wears boots and torso-lengthening jumpsuits.  Short and tall.  Both.
• He's no longer alive (RIP) ... yet he lives on. Appeals to humans and ghouls alike.
• He's done drugs.  Sure, that will most likely lead to some allegations and might not look great in a political race, but think of all those hilarious stories he can tell during debates and at executive meetings!  Everyone loves to laugh!!
• CHARLIE MURPHY!  Not a reason, but also a reason.

I rest my case.

The Readership Dilema

You know sometimes people start blogs for only themselves. But, occasionally, by slip of the tongue or by advertising a little bit, a piece of profound and insightful literature falls upon the public's eyes. So a writer unaccustomed to publicity must now take into account the fact that people will read what he or she writes. Do you change your format? Or do you stay true to who you are and continue writing.

Well, Vince Thomas, you are enough to make this writer sell his soul. I'm going to crack open a beer, chow down on Chipotle, and write whatever the hell keeps you coming back. I'm a whore. I'm proud of it.

Tessa

...just ruined the blog

Running Away

So sometimes really sweet professional bloggers like Bill Simmons and...probably some other people, occasionally keep a live journal during an event and then transcribe it for all to see. Last night, I attempted to do just that, but got caught up in the drama of editing my brothers theatre (got it? drama? Theatre? haaaaaaaa) paper which he e-mailed to me in a panic. So here's what I got.

9:01PM - Nice ties, gentlemen.


9:45 PM - Whoa they're just kinda chillin at that desk. I wonder if McCain is going to deck Obama.

10:04 PM - This isn't over yet?

That's about it.

Google blogger tries to tell you, via the red squigly underline, that "bloggers" is not a word.

Let's Shag.

First of all, I love Daniel Bedingfield. Sure, everyone thought it was a girl singing "Gotta Get Thru This". Sure, he spells "through" like a drive-thru. Sure, he fell out of fame the minute he fell into it. But that song is ONE SWEET GROOVE.

But B, I respect your opinion, and I will allow you to despise him. But only if I can discourse on my least favorite musician of all time.

Now, one of my biggest irks in this world is people who are famous for no apparent reason. People who have hit singles and get paid the big bucks, when they really don't have much talent to begin with. It makes me so happy that people like Tina Fey, Steve Carrell, and Stephen Colbert are getting so much credit these days, because they are brilliant, down-to-earth, phenomenally talented people. But then people like Miley Cyrus, Chelsea Handler, and the cast of Gossip Girl come along and make me shake my fist at Hollywood. Repeatedly.

So, this brings me to my least favorite musician of all time ... and I am being VERY generous in calling him a musician. Let me give you two clues:

1. His main hit has a blatantly morally reprehensible subject matter
2. He sings like a muppet
(unintentional clue 3: He is clearly a "he")

Give it some time....... Don't know yet?....... Ok here it is: SHAGGY.

Remember when "Wasn't Me" graced the American airwaves that one blissful summer of our youth? We sang along in our cars, with the windows down and the warm breeze flowing through our fingers. "But she caught me on the counter", the driver would sing. "Wasn't me!", the passengers would respond. It was the new "Summer Lovin". We all joined hands and sang together as one human family in this great & glorious universe.

Oh wait. That song is one of the worst songs ever written. Totally forgot about that.

And not only is the song awful, but Shaggy himself is a piece of work. I wouldn't even say that he is untalented ... I would say he is devoid of anything that even minutely resembles the concept of talent. He sings like a muppet, unintelligibly rapping, and mind you, GETTING PAID. Hell, if he's getting paid for that, why can't I get paid for, oh I don't know, wearing pants on my arms? Look at me, I'm crazy pants-arms girl! Or maybe I can burp a lot while making pancakes. Hey, have you seen that girl who makes pancakes and burps? Crazy pancakey burpy girl!! She's fuckin' awesome!!

Shaggy, I'm sorry if you're reading this. I'm sure you are a very kindhearted person who hopefully has a wonderful family and good head on his shoulders. But, I just ... it makes me very sad that you were paid to sing like a cartoon jackass while some extremely intelligent, devilishly humorous, and ravenously beautiful people in certain Midwest cities can't even get a 9-5 job. I don't have anyone specific in mind when I say that, but I know she exists.

(HIRE ME.)

Daniel Bedingfield, Just Stop

Look, I don't normally do this, but I'll address this post to one specific person.

Daniel Bedingfield, you're awful. Stop doing music.

Look, I know your sister Natasha Bedinfield is super talented and you feel like it should be you. But it's not you. You're awful.

"I Gotta Get Through This" is like a song that people make up when they're making fun of song writing. It serves no purpose in the world. It's the worst, least passionate, least inventive, least allegorical, least creative, least worthy of acclaim song in the history of mankind. "Safety Dance" is better. The "I Love You, You Love Me" song at the end of Barney is WAY better. How you got a record deal with that song blows my mind. If the world were fair, and you still had the record contract that you do, better songwriters would get proportionally better deals. With this logic, Big Bird from Sesame Street should get a contract worth 50 times as much.

I heard your song today in Kroger and lost my appetite.

How Long Must We Sing This Song?

Yesterday I watched in misery as the Los Angeles Dodgers beat up on the Dairy Queen Little League Team Chicago Cubs, ending the Cubs' season and their best chance at a World Series Title since 1945.

Now, I would go into great detail about how much they sucked in the past four days, but that would of course be insulting to anything that has ever sucked. The Cubs made sucking look like something to be desired. They played baseball the way a nervous kindergartner sings a solo in the school concert. No, they didn't suck. They were a mammoth disappointment. They brought bad baseball to almost unheard proportions. If choking in clutch situations was an Olympic sport, the Alfonso Soriano would be in the gold medal match.

A friend remarked on my drive home that this was "typical Cubs." I disagree. A "typical Cubs" situation would have involved them being in a good place to do something amazing, only have something weird ruin it like a guy hitting the ball and running to third base first, or one of their players holding the bat the wrong way, or a flock of seagulls interfering in some way. No, the Cubs played typical Royals baseball. They looked like they should have won no more than 20 games this year.

I can't say enough bad things about the fans in game 1 and 2 as well, who treated the first playoff games at Wrigley as if they were round 1 and 2 of the Masters. They politely clapped every now and then, but for the most part they seemed rather ho-hum about the whole situation. Are you fucking kidding me? These are the CUBS! They haven't won a fucking world series in a little over a century. There have been 18 United States Presidents since the Cubs won a world series. There have been 9 popes. Even Castro hasn't been around that long! And you want to sit on your hands at game one of the fucking playoffs and act like it's an opera? Give me a fucking break.

All in all, this year was a really special regular season for the Cubbies. It's really too bad that NO ONE decided to show up for the post season.