Public enemy numero uno Jerry Sandusky needs stronger ammo than 'hygiene defense'

Christmas is nipping on our heels and what is my cynical ass blabbering about? Jerry Sandusky of course! Nothing says seasons greetings and happy holidays like talk of alleged pedophiles!
Latest news on Jerry Sandusky (The Man Everybody Loves to Hate): Team Sandusky introduces "hygiene defense." As a proud member of Team Edward, I'd hate to be Team Sandusky ... yuck ...
Anyway, Karl Rominger, an attorney for the former Penn State defense coordinator -- a man facing 50 felony counts of sexual abuse -- argues Sandusky showered with youth, which Sandusky admits, because these boys were so at-risk (how at-risk were they??) they didn't know the ins and outs of proper hygiene, especially showering.
Rominger: "Some of these kids don't have basic hygiene skills. Teaching a person to shower at the age of 12 or 14 sounds strange to some people, but people who work with troubled youth will tell you there are a lot of juvenile delinquents and people who are dependent who have to be taught basic life skills like how to put soap on their body."

Yeah, it does sound strange because it is strange! I sat through high school health class, where we were taught everything from basic hygiene to how to put on a condom. At-risk or not, it's not like my teacher pulled out his wang and demonstrated proper condom technique! We used bananas not chubs! Duh! Also, unless these youth are absurdly slow-witted or Sandusky has difficulty explaining (which isn't the case since he was a defense coordinator for a major college football team), how hard is it to verbally explain, "You grip the bar of soap in your hand. You hold the bar of soap under the warm running water. You run the bar of soap over your body. Make sure not to miss any areas. Lather. Rinse. Repeat if necessary you dirty birdies!"
Look ma, I did it! No behind-the-back-bear-hugs, no soaping up kids necessary. Hands-free like your Bluetooth!

Listen. I'm not an attorney (obviously), especially not a big swingin' dick who can pull such a high profile client, but you're playing hardball with this excuse? Really? I picture Sandusky's "team" of attorneys squeezed into a room, sitting around a long, shiny wooden table, pouring over hundreds of documents, witness accounts, scouring every detail. Ties loosened, sweat forming at their brows, they burn the midnight oil until one of them perks up. With a fist pump and an over-exaggerated face, he screams, "By Jove, I think I've got it! Hygiene! It's all about hygiene!" Men applaud while others wipe away tears. No wonder I pictured them as chimpanzees.
What boners.
There are charges against Penn State officials who allegedly knew about Sandusky's indiscretions for years. Sandusky was facing 25 felony counts of deviate sexual intercourse, aggravated indecent assault, unlawful contact with a minor, endangering the welfare of a child and indecent assault against at least eight victims over more than a decade before being re-arrested recently on 12 additional counts involving two more victims. That's at least 10 victims with a lot more going on than a few showers!

These charges aren't appearing out of the blue either. There were at least two occasions -- one in 1998, the other in 2002 -- when Sandusky was suspected of sexually abusing minors. 

All this and what's the defense? He was seen showering with minors on those occasions because he was giving private showering demonstrations? Even if that's what he was doing -- which is highly unlikely -- it's inappropriate on all levels. Adults should not shower with children and should not soap up children.
However, there has to be some sort of defense, right? Sandusky's attorneys could keep their money-and-attention-hungry mouths wired shut before trial and have him plead guilty. Hard to do with the U.S. media circus circling, waiting for any hint of scandal so they can scrutinize it nonstop on TV and online to boost ratings, as well as Sandusky's adamant denial of any wrongdoing. If there was one accuser ... maybe ... but with at least 12 accusers coming after you it's unlikely you're innocent.
I'd like to say I could come up with a better defense ... but isn't that what people always say? Men sit at home on their couch shoving chicken wings down their gullets while watching their favorite quarterback throw an interception and what do they mutter? "Oh, if I was out on that field, I would have throw it long. I could play better than that boob! Come on!" Yeah right.
How much you wanna make a bet I can throw a football over them mountains? ... Yeah ... Coach woulda put me in fourth quarter, we would've been state champions. No doubt. No doubt in my mind.
However, maybe the "hygiene defense" is the best excuse for a long list of heinous crimes. Then again, Sandusky's team doesn't seem to be too bright ... his defense attorney Joseph Amendola jokingly suggested anyone who thinks Sandusky is a child molester should call 1-800-REALITY ... which turned out to be a gay sex line. Oops!

Finding meaning during the holidays -- Christmas, Hanukah, Baby Jesus and Fat Santa

What does Christmas mean to you? Don't you dare answer with some phony-baloney sentimental s- you don't believe but feel obligated to mutter year after year.
Gimme some feeling! What does this annual holiday mean to you? Pull aside the curtain and let me in oh wondrous Wizard of Oz because I know you ain't no wizard, you're a man baby, a man!
Maybe as a Holy Roller your holiday revolves around gratitude for the birth of your Savior, the Son of the Lord, which is the reason for the season! Am I right or am I right? Amen! As a warrior for the Lord, you work to keep Christ in Christmas. You look forward to celebrating the occasion at church, with family and friends, maybe taking part in a live manger scene (I'll be the donkey!) or volunteering to help the less fortunate.
Well ... it depends on what type of Christian you are because there are two:
Type One: Believe loving God and loving your neighbor is the whole enchilada, you are nice to all things great and small, help people when possible (i.e. fork over dough at Christmastime so less fortunate kiddies can have gifts, donate food, volunteer at nursing homes where so many elderly are alone during the holidays -- all because you want to, not because you feel obligated). You're a giver. Sounds all warm and fuzzy, right?
Well (cue suspenseful music!) ... then there's Type Two: Oh ye Holy Roller of Holy Rollers, you hide behind the belief you're a soldier for Jesus and must spread His word like a fungus and look down upon those who disagree. You judge, spread hate, tell everybody how to act, what to say, what to believe ... before retiring home to beat your spouse with the back of your hand like the pimp you are then dialing up that nasty lil' hottie you freak on the side. If you repent it's OK because she makes you feel like a real man, doesn't she? Because you are a real man! A big man!
You're a mean one Mr. Grinch ...
With this mix of people populating Mother Earth, no wonder Jesus' birth and goodwill towards men were replaced with a season of Black Friday and Cyber Monday sales (complete with a shot of pepper spray to the face!), shopping malls filled to compacity with rude and stressed out morons hungry for deals, a fat omnipresent dude in a suit who is helped by tiny men and flying creatures of the night, and don't forget the gimme-gimme-gimme-gimme-gimme snot-nosed kids.
Adults are just as guilty, making it easier for friends and family alike and registering for Christmas gifts -- I ain't lyin! These bratty adults want expensive gifts no one can afford because, let's face it folks, people go further into debt around the holidays! It's like a diet. Give a dieter an excuse and they'll snatch it right out of your hand.
"Oh, I was doing real good on my diet. Real good! But then ... Sally in HR brought leftover cookies and birthday cake to work. That bitch. I can't turn down free food! It was stale but I couldn't resist. And then I went to this Christmas party and it was open bar and hors d'oeuvres. I mean, come on! It would've been rude to not eat anything or drink those five glasses of egg nog."
"Yeah, I'm having money issues but it's the holidays! Next year I'll turn it around and tighten the almighty belt! Until then, iPads for everybody! Hooray! Do you love me now?"
Yeah, right.
So ... maybe Christmas isn't about Jesus to you because, frankly, you don't believe in the dude. He was just a man! Maybe your Christmas is filled with fondness more than meaning.
The feeling you get when watching "A Christmas Story" for the hundredth time and basking in the glow of electric sex gleaming in the window and poor Ralphie going blind from *gasp* soap poisoning! Maybe it's the taste of an annual holiday dish -- or excitement knowing it will magically appear for your gluttonous pleasure! It will be mine, oh yes, it will be mine!
Every Christmas morning my sweet mama made homemade stratta -- a large breakfast casserole with bread, eggs, cheese, sausage, hashbrowns, etc. We waited with muted hatred to open presents until mean-old-granny carted her fat ass over, a woman who couldn't have cared less watching us open presents but made us wait just the same, year after year, even if we woke up, as children often do, at the hairy butt-crack of dawn. My mom made it bearable when the smell of that cheesy, meaty goodness hit our little noses. Mmm mmm good!
Yeah, my granny isn't the I-baked-you-some-cookies-filled-with-love-and-made-cocoa kind. She was the I-ran-out-of-Pall-Malls-and-Jim-Beam-cough-cough-cough ... and that's all you hear before she passes out with a lit cigarette dangling dangerously from her dry, lipstick smeared dry lips. You go to open your apathetically wrapped present from her and find she'd gifted an old hair dryer and gray-hair filled comb from 1968. But that's the holidays! Forced time with family members you love or love to hate and hate to love -- annoying siblings who make it all about them, grannys who literally suck the life out of the room with each drag of their unfiltered cigarette.
"What's that grandma? Am I hungry? Oh no, no thank you. I seem to have lost my appetite."
Anyway, you are fond of tradition. The stockings filled with sweet goodies and probably some damn fruit placed by a well-meaning adult (I don't want no stinkin' oranges!), homemade cookies and delights, the Christmas tree decorated with lights (hopefully in full working order), old ornaments dusted off year after year, broken or not, maybe a string of popcorn you half assed and ate half of ... all the Christmas shit you keep tucked away during the year so you can fill your house with Santas, elves, Christmas plates, nutless nutcrackers, nativity scenes ... You love the consistency of it all, knowing what to except. Well ... that's if there was consistency to your holidays. Maybe the one constant was it always sucked ass or you didn't know what or who to expect.
Maybe you're more into the glitz and glam of Christmas. New outfits for Christmas parties -- hopefully not the dreaded Christmas sweater -- where you get ripped out of your mind off spiked egg nog and jello shooters. Instead of enjoying gift giving to merely see delight on the faces of your friends and family as they rip open the wrapping paper and receive just what they wanted, your excitement lies in the attainment of free shit. You are preoccupied with worry, knowing all your presents will be exactly what you didn't want, obviously picked with no regard, at the last minute or with no significant amount of money spent. For shame! How dare they!
Bah humbug!
Maybe Christmas isn't a good time for you. Maybe it's full of sorrow because your family never had enough money to have the Christmas everyone always wanted. Full of guilt and regret, which poisons the experience. Maybe something bad happened around the holidays in years past or someone you once enjoyed this special occasion with is no longer in the picture ... passed on or moved on. Your joy is tainted with images of what was or should have been.
I wish I could feel something dramatic about Christmas, to be filled with the joy of the holiday, the quintessential Christmas Spirit as the holiday movies and TV commercials suggest. The season of giving, ya know? Filled like a jelly f-ing doughnut!
Interesting that Christmas, a season about giving, gratitude and togetherness, comes at the end of the year, a time when people take stock of the past 12 months and whether or not they were naughty or nice, literally. Santa ain't checking the list, the Lord is and He's pissed!
Christmas comes with too much expectation, too much baggage. We need to slow our roll and chill out, feel what we're feeling, good or bad, happy or sad. Don't try to feel joyous because you're supposed to around this time of year. Feel however you feel and then find out why and work to change! Stop procrastinating -- like shopping or baking -- and get 'er done within your budget so you can enjoy being with family, even the bitches on the tree who suck because they aren't all terrible, there are a few good ones in the mix ... hopefully. Make the best of it because it's your life you're wasting! Time is what life is made of!

Fast & the Furious and money laundering -- The U.S. tries to solve Mexican drug cartel crisis with plots from action movies

While relaxing a few evenings ago, I reclined in my chair, turned on the nightly news and was stupefied by the broadcast. With more seriousness than the Queen Mum, the Talking Head reported the United States is accused of laundering drug cartel money.
Say what? Is this an episode of "Weeds" or we talking about the United States of America, my home sweet home? Should I pinch myself?
We've all heard about the major drug war going on south of the border ... well heard about it from the standpoint of: "oh-that's-awful-luckily-I-live-far-far-far-away-and-can-shake-my-head-in-disgust-from-my-lovely-American-living-room-while-I-think-of-those-nutty-cholos-and-get-hungry-for-Mexican-food-and-a-Corono-with-lime." We've seen pictures of the violence, people hanging on nooses, decapitations, etc.
But this is totally absurd.
First there were reports of the Fast and the Furious -- no, not the movie. I'm talking about the botched operation by the Phoenix office of the ATF where officials encouraged gun shops to sell up to 1,725 assault rifles and other weapons destined for Mexican drug cartels. Why you ask? Isn't it obvious? Use the gun runners to track down ranking members of the drug cartels and other criminal enterprises. Duh. No, of course this doesn't sound like a James Bond film or episode of 24. Of course not ... Did it work? Well some of the guns were used in murders so, not really.
To make a long story short, Fast & the Furious was revealed and of course it was vehemently denied, of course! Finally, Attorney General Eric Holder admitted it was true. This was shocking enough but now it's happened again with this money laundering shit. The federal government is hot to solve this Mexican drug cartel circus so members of the DEA laundered and/or smuggled millions of bucks in drug proceeds. Reasoning: track down those pesky high ranking drug cartel members.
This doesn't sound real, does it? When I heard about this money laundering b.s. the other night my mind raced. Haven't we been told movies aren't real? Those TV shows with cops and private investigators, those aren't real. They sexify it for ratings, so people will watch. Silly rabbit, Jack Bauer isn't going to bust down doors and scream in peoples faces about how time is running out. James Bond isn't going to screw a bunch of hot chicks and sneak around. But the U.S. promoting the sale of guns to drug cartels and laundering their money ... that sounds like a future blockbuster!
What the hell is going on? Yeah, some major drug cartel players have been killed but guess what? No, not chicken butt. You kill one, second in command steps up and so on and so forth. Has the U.S. government become so hopeless they are relying on plots from action movies? From Jack Bauer and James Bond? I don't have any answers but that's why I didn't run for office.

Herman Cain can't hear the fat lady singing "It's Over!"

Everyone's heard of the indiscretions made by Mayor Govn't Cheese (he puts the toppings under the cheese), aka Herman Cain.
Recently news broke that Herman (always reminds me of Herman from the game Guess Who?) had a 13-year affair with Ginger White, which she describes as "very casual." Ah yes, casual sex. Exactly what I want in a president. He put the meat under the cheese and his meat in her cheese! Huzzah!
Even her name is dirty - Ginger. According to reports, he regularly gave her money to help with bills and expenses but, of course, he denies a sexual affair but won't divulge how much he forked over, which obviously means it was a lot of dough. Get it? Dough? Pizza? Huzzah!
We just friends.
His wife, Gloria, didn't know about this "arrangement" but knows now and understands because Herman is "a soft-hearted, giving person." HA! He isn't soft but he sure is giving, giving enough to give her his 12 inch Meat Lovers Supreme! Huzzah!
OK. Enough is enough. Since October, it has been one sexual harassment claim after another. Sharon Bialek and Karen Kraushaar accused Herman of sexually harassing them in the '90s while he was head of the National Restaurant Association (NRA). Two other women also said they were sexually harassed while working at NRA but declined to be identified. So, OK. This new one, this Ginger chick, has got to be the nail in the coffin, the final pepperoni on the pizza, right? Time to pack it in Herman, quit your campaign and find another dream.
What do news reports proclaim today?
Cain to meet with wife amid affair claims, dropping poll numbers
Paging Mr. Herman, paging Mr. Herman, please report to the front desk! Herman commented he was "considering dropping out of the race, but for now was continuing to meet all campaign commitments."
Five women but Herman ain't afraid. He's working to "re-establish" his character and get to the bottom of all these allegations against him.
I send checks to a lot of people. I help a lot of people. That in itself is not proof. So the other allegation in terms of it being a 13-year physical relationship, that is her words against my word.
Can I get a hand-out? But seriously, his word has been tarnished since October. Every woman coming forward, every joke at your expense (and the expense of Herman Cain Jr. -- aka your dingaling, aka the Herman Cain Train, aka Black Walnut, aka Squirmin' Herman), has repeatedly attacked his character.
Earth to Herman. Earth to Herman. Herman, do you read me? No chance in hell will you be the Republican nominee next year. Give it up.
Yeah, talk to Gloria, the same woman who found the sexual harassment claims "unfounded." Do you think American women would get behind a First Lady who won't stand up for herself against a cheating man such as you? What kind of role model would she be for young girls? You can't help but compare her to Michelle Obama, a woman who promotes healthy eating and exercise, a woman with a husband who isn't a serial cheater, who doesn't push the heads of women down over his crouch, who is smart.
As for these women coming forward, we watched the press conference with Sharon Bialek where she revealed Herman was aggressive and sexually inappropriate and, when she sought help to get a new job, "put his hand on (her) leg under (her) skirt and reached for (her) genitals. He also grabbed (her) head and brought it towards his crotch."
Now we have Ginger spilling the beans about their long affair but assuring us "I am not a cold-hearted person. I am a mother of two kids and, of course, my heart bleeds for this woman. I am deeply, deeply sorry if I've caused any hurt to her, to his kids and to his family, that was never my intention."
Um, your heart bleeds for her? That don't make no damn sense lady. Also ... what was your intention? To help your tarnished image -- Herman said you're troubled but you said you boink him on a casual basis. Hmm ... I'd rather be troubled than a Herman Slut.
In regards to the five women, Herman's attorney, Lin Wood, remarked "Let me suggest to you that five lies do not make one truth. When you talk about the importance of character ... let's look at it from the perspective of that candidate's entire career and life. Don't judge people's character based on accusations made in the media that have not been proven with facts and, in fact, have been clearly denied by the candidate."
When asked about specifics, Wood said, "I am not going to relegate the political process into a Jerry Springer show." Umm ... too late because it already is an episode, a particularly good Kardashian-esque episode and the audience is the world.
Targets for GOP political humor are typically Sarah Palin and Michele Bachmann, who have given us enough one-liners to last years. All joking aside, the thought of either one of them as leader of the United States of America is frightening. The same goes for Herman Cain.
No, I'm not referring to his indiscretions. I'm talking about intelligence and hubris. Here's some Vendetta Math: A Lack of Intelligence + Hubris = Danger!
Everyone has heard about Herman's confusing Libya answer. Does he agree with President Obama's handling of the situation in Libya ... he didn't but he couldn't exactly explain why. His fumbling response conveyed a lack of knowledge in regards to said situation in Libya.
Herman's response to flack about his fumbling:
The people that get on the Cain train, they don't get off because of that crap. Who knows every detail of every country on the planet? Nobody!
Also see: We need a leader, not a reader.

Yeah, I can picture being at a party and finding myself in a circle of brainiacs, contemplating President Obama's handling of Libya. I'd be asked my opinion and draw a blank. No, not in a freezing up sort of way because I've been put on the spot and am more of a writer than a speaker. More as in a freezing up sort of way because I ain't got a clue. Luckily, I'm not running for president and never will! Hooray!
I don't want a president who describes his supporters as being on the (Last Name) Train, i.e. Cain Train, Obama Train, Bush Train (sounds kinky doesn't it?), Clinton Train, and also describing them as "getting off the train" when he does something wrong. Yeah it's funny but I don't want my president to be funny. If he or she happens to be funny, OK. Great. I like to laugh. However, I want him or her to be highly intelligent, like creepy intelligent. Like studied all the time while I guzzled beer bongs smart because they love to learn.
Which brings me to my second point: Presidents don't need to know every detail of everything on the planet because, honestly, that's impossible. However, they should know about major national and international affairs. And Herman, I want a leader who is also a reader, not a horny man who wears varying hats and enjoys rhyming and coming up with humorous responses to criticism.
Arrogant people in charge scare me. Herman won't admit he sexually harassed those women, he won't admit he had a sexual relationship with Ginger. He won't admit when he doesn't know something and/or said something stupid. I.e. Michele Bachmann and the wrong John Wayne; Sarah Palin and Paul Revere.
America needs a highly intelligent president who has character. Character to admit they screwed up, character to reach across the aisle so Democrats and Republicans can work together to solve our problems, character to do their job.

2011 Year in Review -- Looking back on the good, the bad, the ugly and yourself

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas ... there are the commercials advertising this season's big ticket items, department stores hustling everything from inflatable Santa's for your already tacky enough front yard to $500 cashmere sweaters (or even $$$$ Lexus sedans for Richie Rich and Newt Gingrich's third wife, child bride Callista Bisek ... do you know his website is newt.org? Sounds like some kinky sexual position).
Anywho ... there's that nervous, sickly feeling your credit card is getting as it awaits a season of overspending and excess. You know ... you spending buko dollars on presents while receiving items obviously picked out with no thought whatsoever ... same feeling goes for your stomach while it awaits Christmas parties, overeating at dinners with family members you see once a year and would rather, in most cases, never see again, decorated cookies, store-bought pies and chocolates, oh my! Everyone knows you can eat whatever you want around Christmas, right? What Would Santa Do -- WWSD?
Santa, can I make you some sandwiches?
This all means New Years is hot on the trail and 2011 will soon come to a close. Does this make you sad, fill you with regret over things you should have done, things you should have said. Or does it make you slap happy knowing your year was productive and joyous? Moving closer to the end of the Mayan Calendar! Woo!
I've been told God is the ultimate decider, one day bringing judgement down upon our heads. Whether or not this is true, I won't speculate. However, your harshest critic is yourself. People can say nasty things and make you feel terrible but the person who can make you feel the worst is yourself, especially while trying to sit and evaluate your past year. Did you give yourself an A, maybe a B+ or did you straight up earn an EPIC FAIL?
So, as you look back on 2011, focus on the good. That's not to say you shouldn't visit the shitty parts, reminiscence about your dysfunctional family, perhaps some weight gain or losing a job. Happy happy joy joy. Ignorance is bliss but it's not healthy. Maybe you're a glass half empty type, always focusing on the negative, always waiting to be let down or disappointed, never letting yourself fully get excited about anything, always ready to say something along the lines of "just my luck" or "nothing good ever happens to me." Boo f-ing hoo.
There is a comfort in the sadness, in the negativity. You're used to being negative ... it probably stems back to your childhood, doesn't everything? After a while it becomes comforting in the way it always happens, in the way someone important to you always lets you down. In the way things you get excited for never pan out or aren't what you hoped for. You can't always be happy because, sooner or later, something bad will happen. However, you can always be negative.
No wonder people are so depressed around the holidays. It's supposed to be so sickly happy, so wonderfully joyful, a warm home filled with fresh goodies made by a smiling mother, a bountiful spread of loot under a sparkly Christmas tree inside a home safe and warm from the glorious beauty of falling snow.
America has a dysfunctional economy, a government that can't reach across the aisle and work together to solve major problems (weren't they supposed to learn how to get along with others in KINDERGARTEN!), high unemployment, people protesting across the country, blah blah blah ... oh wait, I'm focusing on the negative again. Dammit.
There's this aggravating balance one needs to achieve ... knowing things aren't always going to be great, knowing bad things will happen and we'll be sad from time to time. The Yin and the Yang Mr. Miyagi.
OK, so instead of being the Grinch -- as I've been referred to before -- let's look back on 2011. As the years pass, are we becoming a better society? You know, going in the right direction? What do you think about when you ponder 2011? Well ... outside of your tiny bubble, your tiny place in the world.
Perhaps the sideshow circus of baby killer Casey Anthony, maybe the wacky weather with earthquakes across the U.S. (even Virginia!) and the world (Japan's devastating earthquake and tsunami). How about the end of the Space Shuttle Program or Okra The Black Devil ... oh I mean Oprah. Oops. Or all those creepy ass politicians thinking with their penises ... Anthony Weiner (who had a disgusting '70s porn star mustache going for Movember, not a good look for a man trying to clean up his tarnished image), Arnold Schwarzenegger (can't believe he put his frankfurter in that troll), John Edwards and current scoundrel Mr. Gov't Cheese himself Herman Cain (he puts the toppings under the cheese!). You can't forget the Charlie Sheen mania, Osama bin Laden's death (or is he under the sea swimming around with Aerial and friends waiting for his return to wreak havoc on us infidels???), Occupy (insert town here -- wish they'd occupy my taint) ... I could go on and I'm sure you have more to add but there's a part about 2011 leaving me most concerned.
The Top 10 Searches of 2011:
1. iPhone
2. Casey Anthony
3. Kim Kardashian
4. Katy Perry
5. Jennifer Lopez
6. Lindsay Lohan
7. "American Idol"
8. Jennifer Aniston
9. Japan Earthquake
10. Osama bin Laden
Wow, that's depressing. I can't set a goal for America, I can only hope people stop worrying about such tards as the Kardashians, JLo and LiLo, and focus on more important things. As for myself, I can choose to steer my focus towards more intellectual pursuits, hoping such filth as Kourtney Kardashian polluting the world with another bastard child will possibly one day go away. Poof. Vanish.
New Year's Resolutions are for the birds. You make a overly strict list and then follow it for what, a week? Two? Maybe a month? Why not start now? Start small on each goal. Don't overeat over the holidays but enjoy yourself. Tweak your resume and find a new job. Break up with your cheating husband or shitty boyfriend. Distance yourself from your dysfunctional family. Try to exercise more and realize you're the only person stopping yourself from change. As Anne Frank wrote, "How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world."
Wow. Look at me! I'm not the Grinch anymore!

Jerry Sandusky, Joe Paterno "Joe Pa," Penn State, Rioting ... Does Anyone Care About the Children?

I tried to read the indictment against Jerry Sandusky last night but didn't get far. It wasn't like an episode of Law & Order: SVU where pedophiles and rapists are regularly featured by actors. Sandusky and these boys are real. This wasn't some writer manipulating the details to make them exciting and "TV worthy." This happened.
Numerous words come to mind but the one front and center is sick. This man is sick. However, the sickness doesn't stop there.
In March 2002, graduate assistant Mike McQueary claimed he saw Sandusky raping a 10-year-old boy in the showers. He reported the incident to Penn State's beloved JoePa. JoePa told Penn State Athletic Director Tim Curley, who told Gary Schultz, Penn State's senior vice president of finance and business. Curley and Schultz talked to McQueary 10 days later. Two weeks later Curley told McQueary Sandusky's punishment ... his keys to the locker room were taken away. Police and child welfare agencies were not notified and no one attempted to identify the victim.
Say what? That's like taking a stash of meth away from a junkie, waving your finger in their face and saying, "Don't do that again!" Duh. Problem not solved.
Eight victims. Eight lives shattered. Eight families ruined, poisoned. Ever heard of the cycle of violence? Maybe there are more victims out there, who knows? Do you think Sandusky, out of the blue, got the bright idea to begin raping boys in 1994 at the age of 50? Probably not.
In fall 2000, a Penn State janitor reported he saw Sandusky performing oral sex on a young boy. He told other janitors and his supervisor. No official report, nothing was done.
In 1998, an 11-year-old boy told his mother Sandusky showered with him while hugging and washing him. It was reported to the university police and investigated but dropped by the Centre County District Attorney.
Sick.
But that's not enough. After top Penn State officials announced they fired JoePa Wednesday night, students rioted. Rioted! They chanted his name, tore down light poles and overturned a television news van. They threw rocks and fireworks at police and toilet paper in the trees. They blew air horns and a group of girls danced on top of a car. A student blasted a police officer in the face with pepper spray.
A freshman remarked the students were making the point that, "the media is responsible for taking JoePa down" because he'd met his legal and moral responsibilities by reporting the incident.
Another student blamed the riot on the college officials who "tarnished a legend."
How ironic. Great idea ... your school's reputation is in turmoil, as well as your football program, Sandusky, JoePa, and what do you do? You riot and disgrace your school and town even more. Great thinking. Also, did you ever wonder what the victims would feel, watching you parade around your town on national television? Do you care? Actions speak louder than words.
JoePa didn't meet his legal and moral responsibilities. He reported the incident to a superior but did nothing to followup because he either didn't care or was hiding from the truth. He continued to work for an organization harboring a sick man. A man who fondled and raped young, at risk, impressionable boys while showering them with gifts and promises of football greatness at Penn State. Sandusky poisoned their minds, their futures and their families.
For the JoePa apologists. For the Penn State loyalists. Did you ever once think about those young boys whose lives are damn near ruined? Did you ever think the lives of those human beings are more important than your beloved JoePa, your football team and your school? Obviously JoePa didn't ... neither did the others involved. Shame on you and shame on them.
When did people become so desensitized, so jaded and apathetic about something as horrific as what Sandusky did to those boys? When did the home team become more important than a boy who had a man perform oral sex on him 20 times? Sandusky had these boys spend the night at his home and you're telling me no one knew about this? You can't sweep a sick man under the rug!
Shame! College football is not more important than human beings, especially at risk young boys whose lives have been ruined.

Election Day: Mississippi is letting us know when life "begins" -- Miss., the Personhood Amendment Initiative 26 and America's obsession with abortion

Can't say I've ever been to Mississippi. Don't know much about it either. I know how to spell M-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i. I know Russell Edgington is the Vampire King of Mississippi and he lives ... oh, wait, that's "True Blood." Anyway ...
You've probably heard about the Mississippi Statewide Initiative 26: "Should the term 'person' be defined to include every human being from the moment of fertilization, cloning, or the equivalent thereof?"
This question makes me nervous. What a vague doozy! My answer to this question -- after I've stopped being baffled everyday people are being asked this question -- is:
Not my area of expertise for such a significant and difficult question. So ... pass.
Even as a college graduate, a somewhat well-educated youngish woman with a working vagina, I don't deserve the opportunity to answer this question. I studied Humanities for goodness sake. Liberal arts. Which means the majority of the people answering this question are either above -- more educated -- or below me -- less educated. What do they know because this isn't some random pop quiz. The answer to this question will affect a large population of people. Where do I get off trying to play the role of decider? You don't know me and I certainly don't know you.
To qualify for the ballot, 89,000 signatures were needed. The petition received 106,000. Hopefully everyone understood what they were signing but it doesn't mean much as the 2010 population of Mississippi, according to the U.S. Census Bureau, is 2,967,297 with the percent under the age of 18 at 25.5%. So, here's some Vendetta Math. 25.5% is what ... 1/4 of the population? So, with that in mind, we're talking about 741,824 or so people, which leaves us with over 2 million people voting. That's a lot of folks, a lot more than 106,000 bozos.
Lemme jump back to the wording of the Initiative -- 21 words. Jay-Z had 99 problems -- luckily a bitch wasn't one of them -- and Mississippi is giving its people 21 words? Twenty-one words that could change abortion rights for women. That is unacceptable because it leaves so many loopholes.
What about the Plan B Emergency Contraceptive, aka the morning-after pill, or birth control? Those OK? I guess the morning-after wouldn't be but what about birth control since nothing has been fertilized yet ...
What about in-vitro fertilization (IVF)? I can just hear the supporters of this Initiative saying it's "God's will" that some women are infertile. It's so amazing these people are mildly educated at best but have the ability to read and interpret the Bible so clearly. I bet God is so proud of you guys. Gold stars for everybody!
Not every fertilized egg goes on to become a child -- the numbers are around 20%. So, how does that work in with this?
What about women who are raped? What about women who are molested by a family member -- a brother, uncle, cousin or father?
What about an ectopic pregnancy where the fertilized egg grows outside the uterus, usually in the fallopian tube?
So, it's about these embryos having legal rights ... how do you know what the embryo wants? Typical answer: "Well they wouldn't want to die you Satanic heathen!" True, but would they want their mother to be miserable, raising their rapists' child, a child they resent and reminds them daily of a traumatic incident? Would they want to live a painful life from a birth defect? Be raised by a mother who boozed or danced with Mr. Brownstone during the pregnancy or simply wanted some Government Cheese after popping another kid out?
Why should people seek answers from strangers about personal issues? These loud mouths don't have to live as a woman raising their rapist's child. They don't have to die giving birth to a child, to have their fallopian tube rupture during an ectopic pregnancy. Isn't that the point of scientific breakthroughs? We've come so far as a civilization. We can help barren women have children, we can help prevent pregnancy related deaths. What was the point of it all if this Initiative passes?
This Initiative would be like me walking to my neighbor's house, knocking on the door, and saying, "Hi, it's me from next door. I know we don't know each other well but I had a quick question for you. My husband is cheating on me and just overall awful. What should I do?"
File all this under Mind-Your-Damn-Business. Also see files for Stay-Out-Of-My-Vagina and Stop-Pretending-You-Are-The-Second-Coming-Of-Jesus.
You might think I'm a complete sinner asshole (if you think this than suck it). Or, you might be thinking, "Oh well. Those poor, nutty people in Mississippi." Maybe you shake your head, maybe you sigh or chuckle.
But wait, there's more ...  activists are pursuing efforts to put the Initiative on the ballot in at least nine other states. Yes, Ferris Bueller, nine times. Nine!
Florida. Ohio. Wisconsin. Colorado. California. Montana. North Dakota. Arkansas. Alabama. Hope you don't live there!
There's also potential for citizen-led drives in other states, including Nevada, Nebraska, Oregon and Oklahoma, as well as legislative efforts in Michigan and Kansas.
This makes me think of Prohibition. Won't women go to other states to have abortions or IVF treatments? Maybe someone will offer abortions in-state on the down-low in their basement like in "American Horror Story." You can't change the mind of everyone by passing some vague Initiative.
Ugh. Of all the things to worry about right now. Yeah, maybe our state won't have enough money for public schooling or thousands of people will lose their homes and jobs because of the economy. However, at least we save those little babies from dying! We saved those sinners from themselves and that means we go to Heaven. Right?
Politicians like this shit, this abortion talk, because it's easier than dealing with a failing economy or with the threat of terrorism or the new Census data showing there are 49 million poor people in America. No, let's all talk about abortion for the 1,000th time.
In conclusion, mind your business and stay away from my body and out of my body, as well as the bodies of my female friends, family and future children you f-ing psychos. I would never have an abortion but who am I to tell other people what to do?

Death -- We are all going to die

I wish I was one of those people who had some life changing experience and now lives my time on Earth to the fullest. Full of appreciation for each second of every day, every pretty flower and every beautiful sunrise, I'd thank my lucky stars I'm alive. I'd be nice to everyone I meet because you never know what demons they are struggling with that day. I'd also be nice to all my friends and family because it could be my last day on Earth. My last breath, my last thought, my last heartbeat.
You know, the kind of thing you read in "Guideposts." Wouldn't want to exit this world after telling a loved one they're a complete and utter jerkoff.
However, I can wake up every day and remind myself, "Hey. You. Yeah you. You may die today!" So what? What do I do with this knowledge? Spend all my money on designer clothes? Shoes? Drink a couple bottles of white wine and sing karaoke with no shame? Maybe drink some pina coladas, get caught in the rain and make love after midnight? Quit my job and dedicate my life to helping wayward teens achieve their dreams and turn their lives around? Yeah, I'll send in that resume just to give the unattainable dream job a shot but death ... well, my switch shut off long ago for such a big issue because I can remind myself to ad nauseum, but I still live my life the same.
Reminds me of people who think they know it all when it comes to religion. Humans are not capable of knowing everything, of understanding the ins and outs of life. It's over our heads!
With all the big issues of life, death is the ultimate elephant in the room. If I don't look at it then it isn't real, right? It'll just go away, right?
No one is comfortable knowing one day they will die and go ... to Heaven? Hell? Limbo? Oz? The Island of Lost Toys? Nowhere -- lights out, game over! Maybe be reincarnated as a maple tree or Kim Kardashian's left buttcheek. No one knows for certain ... well certainty outside of religious nuts and those believing they were someone else in a former life. Yeah, in a former life I was Attila the Hun. Chew on that.
Anyway, I can't wrap my head around death. I push it out of my mind when it creeps out of the shadows, usually emerging right after I've pulled the covers up around my shoulders, rolled on to my side and am slowly wiggling my way into the welcoming arms of Sleepy Town. Not the best time for deep thoughts about something uncontrollable and frightening.
The other instance where death rears its ugly head is when someone dies, which happened to me recently. No one extremely close to me has died before so, as sick as it sounds, having someone halfway close to me die is like a dress rehearsal for the big showdown.
I figured I'd remember something about the deceased. A smell. Maybe his scent or a favorite drink or food. It's like breaking up with someone only later to be reminded of them when all you want to do is forget -- Ecco Domani Pinot Grigio, a steak, egg and cheese bagel, a Magnum Trojan Condom (kidding ... or am I?) -- except instead of an ex, we're talking dead people. Maybe I'd remember a noise, like his voice or laugh, but nothing was there except a blank, empty feeling. He's not here anymore but, considering we weren't close, not much changed.
However, it was difficult simply because of that damn elephant in the room, death. He's dead. Where did he go? When I finally mustered enough courage to traverse a couple feet from his open casket, to peer in and sneak a peek, what did I expect to see? What should I feel? Why am I so scared? It's not like he's going to spring up, eyes wide, arms stiff, only to scream, "Brains!" .... or would he?
Suffice to say, I almost fainted at the sight of his papier-mache features, his translucent skin and empty shell. What was in there? Is there a soul and did it leave his body? If so, where did it go? Was he watching me watch him? Was he still in there? Is he somewhere else? Can he hear my thoughts?
Cue the eerie music.
At the funeral, as I listened to a beautiful speech about his life, I thought how this was his last hurrah. People gathered around his casket, remembering him fondly or simply trying to think of something polite to say to his grieving family ... I'm sorry for your loss. He was a nice man.
One last speech from a friend. One last connection to this world. Then I thought ... is he hovering overhead, watching his own funeral? Does he like it and if he doesn't, what can he do? Can he haunt me? Can he take over my body?
Cue every scary movie, every scary book -- no wonder they're so popular. No one knows what happens when you die. No one knows what happens after ... for certain. We can believe but belief isn't solid. Everyone has doubts. Everyone wonders what if. Maybe that's the whole point -- life wouldn't be easier if we knew what happened afterwards. If we all went to Hell or Heaven, no matter what, what's the point of trying to be a good person? If nothing happened and it's simply lights out, it would change life as we know it. You wouldn't watch a movie if you already knew the ending, right?
We're all going to die. I said it and nothing happened. No smiting, no lightning. We. Are. All. Going. To. Die. Pretty people. Ugly people. Rich people and poor people. Mean people and nice people. Happy people and sad. We will all die. It could happen today or tomorrow. Maybe in a month or a few years. No one knows. We can either try our best to come to terms with it, ignore it or die frightened and full of misery.

The lies politicians told me ... Republican presidential candidates feed us truth mixed with complete b.s. but ... so do all politicians

Republican presidential candidates are in America's face. Like a swarm of Locusts, these insects are swarming our TVs, radios and newspapers, yap yap yapping and feeding us lies in hopes we'll take the bait and vote for them. Then they will eat us alive like the crops in ancient Egypt. They giveth and then they taketh away!
Perry Camp Hits Mitt on Immigration
Did Donald Trump turn Rick Perry into a 'birther'
Bachmann says she would be a president who prays
Republicans turn judicial power into a campaign issue
Herman Cain addresses racial humor controversy, abortion, 999 plan
Santorum: US 'lost the war in Iraq' ... poor little guy, such an unfortunate last name.
Anyway, debate after debate but I will not listen to any of the nonsense, same with Prez Barry O constantly being on the TV, yap yap yapping away. The only truth I've gotten from this zoo is Herman Cain, Mr. Gov'ment Cheese himself (what a cool action figure ... ), puts the toppings under the cheese on his Godfather's Pizza. Well played sir! Perhaps he's "running" for president so people will buy his pizza-pie ... can't get a better audience any other way especially for a country filled with obese slobs ...
So, from Prez Barry O-bama (who is a speech crazy floozy) to Republican presidential candidates to Vice President Joe Biden to senators across the country ... not everything coming out of their mouth is truth ... well besides gas because there's nothing fake about a big, juicy burp (did you know there's a world burping champion? Pretty stupid ... I hope aliens aren't examining us and choose to watch his video on YouTube).
Why do we feed into the bullshit? Unless you have the brain the size of my fat ass and can discern truth from lies, tune it out and find the nitty-gritty at FactCheck.org or PolitiFact. They do the work for you ... or maybe you just want someone to believe in ...
Think of politicians (in all shape and sizes, from butt plug conservatives to loose liberals) as a lying, cheating boyfriend who you can't let go of because of your own insecurities and because you love him! What would you do without him? Like Jack said to Ennis in "Brokeback Mountain" ... "You are too much for me Ennis, you son-of-a-whore-son bitch! I wish I knew how to quit you!" It's so wrong but oh so right and, let's face it, you gotta pick somebody to be president, right? The lesser of evils.
So, with these politicians, aka that no good boyfriend, you're in luck! They tell you this, tell you that, rub you the right way (ooo right there, that's the spot) but you have someone on your side! There are websites that do the work for you and tell you what's wrong and what's right!
Also, if you ran into my old Social Studies teacher (probably in front of the Krispy Kremes display case at the local Safeway) she wouldn't describe me as a model student but I'm pretty sure I'm not voting for a new president until Nov. 6, 2012 (well, if the world doesn't end before then -- hope the Mayans don't steal Harold Camping's thunder!). So, doesn't all this feel like department stores who start selling Christmas stuff way too early? You know, when you want to just buy a damn Halloween costume and instead of skeletons and doom and gloom you walk into a store filled with Christmas nutcrackers and f-ing Kris Kringle? Stop trying to steal our precious moments Big Industry and, as for the Republican candidates, it's October 2011. I understand the Republican vs. Democrat thing ... you know Barry O isn't doing too great of a job so all the Republicans are hot on his trail, ready to take over the White House but come on! I'm not trying to worry about November 2012 yet. Live in the now!

Man executed in Alabama despite mental health doubts ... why nobody cared about Chris Johnson but everybody cared about Troy Davis

Ever heard of Chris Johnson?
No, I don't mean the running back from the Tennessee Titans who may or may not be going through a slump. I'm not referring to the actor from various TV shows. Negative on the cornerback for the Oakland Raiders as well as the third baseman from the Houston Astros.
I'm talking about Christopher Johnson, the man put on death row for killing his infant son in February 2005. I'm talking about the man who was recently executed despite mental health doubts.
The U.S. Supreme Court outlawed the execution of mentally ill individuals on the grounds it's unconstitutional. As The Collector said in "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome," it's the law!
Despite being in and out of psychiatric hospitals as a youth and prescribed anti-psychotic drugs, despite never being evaluated by a court as to whether he was mentally competent to be executed, despite showing erratic behavior as of late including banging his head against the wall, secluding himself from other inmates and eating a roll of toilet paper, he was put to death by lethal injection. Guess everything in retrospect is obvious.
On Thursday, Oct. 20, 2011, before he was injected, Johnson was asked if he had any last words. He remarked, "Game over." He was pronounced dead at 6:25 p.m.
You Google "Christopher Johnson" and you'll find an article after scrolling through a sea of news stories referring to the Christopher Johnson's I mentioned earlier, the Christopher Johnson's of note according to the media.
So, Google "Christopher Johnson execute" and you'll get articles from random media outlets. Instead of CNN, USA Today or the Washington Post, you'll get The Guardian out of the UK and WKRG out of Alabama as top sources. Where's the rest of the U.S. on this important news story? Asleep at the media wheel.
When Troy Davis was set to be executed a few months ago -- a man many believe to be innocent -- you couldn't turn on the TV or sign on to Facebook or Twitter without hearing about his unfair fate and the uproar from the public. From the NY Times to the Huffington Post, his story was smothered and covered like my Waffle House hashbrowns.
So, I don't get it. Was it because Troy Davis was black and Christopher Johnson not? Was it because Davis was presumed not-guilty by the public in contrast to Johnson being presumed mentally unwell yet still guilty -- mental illness is a taboo in our culture so possibly people thought he should die anyway? Was it because Johnson was convicted of killing his own child, a mere 6-month-old? Was it because he wasn't sorry? Was it because Troy Davis repeatedly denied any wrongdoing and Johnson never attempted to appeal or do anything?
No. It's because the media didn't tell us what to be upset about so the State of Alabama is the bad guy and Christopher Johnson is a good guy ... I learned about it after-the-fact. There's so much going on in the world and big media offers a catered buffet of your interests.
Oh glorious Media Gods, please, I beg of you, shine down on me and hear my prayers. What should I be upset about today? What should I be happy about? Thank you! Without you I am a lost lamb.
They want you to Google something and read about it on their site. So, how do you they do that? They write about what you are going to search, always staying a few steps ahead. Why on Earth would you search about Chris Johnson when you don't even know who he is!? Yeah, the news outlets have varying hustles -- that's why Republicans listen to FOX News and Liberals read "The Nation" -- but they all report on items you are interested in so you will click on their news story while surfing the web because print is dead and the Internet is where its at! Give me what I want to hear America!
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? If a mentally ill man is executed without being evaluated by a court and no one knows about it, does it matter?

Berkeley's racist bake sale

Don't you love spin? You catch tidbits of news -- crafty headlines on your SmartPhone, commercials for the 11 o'clock broadcast and its top late-breaking stories (they always seem to be late-breaking), jokes by late-night talk show hosts -- and think you know what's going on, like you got it all figured out, but you ain't got a clue. All up in the Jell-O and don't even know the flava my friend.
We don't have time to research every news story to separate truth from lie so we want it quick and dirty like an afternoon romp between the sheets. Yeah, if it's a story that hits home I'll take the time to look it up but ... who am I kidding? Signs point to no. I want it quick and dirty. I want to start a timer -- 2 minutes -- and say, "OK, go! Give me the news! Get to the point and shove it down my throat while I multi-task -- eat my lunch, check my e-mail and play a round of Angry Birds." Those smirking pigs always get my blood boiling.
So, when did I hear of Berkeley's racist bake sale? I can't remember. The tidbits are like pieces to a jigsaw puzzle scattered across my living room table. Was it Google News? Was it my local nighttime news with the woman who looks like a frightened bird (gotta slow down on the Botox chicky)? Was it Jimmy Kimmel? Well ... the only thing I learned from Jimmy Kimmel last night is Mark Wahlberg can't dress but is still gorgeous and has a friend named Taco who is going to (or already has) serious gastrointestinal issues, especially after he sucked down three Solo cups of Tabasco sauce and a glob of Wasabi. Yikes. Burns going down ... burns coming out.
So, who knows. I do know I had no idea what a "racist bake sale" would entail (I was thinking along the lines of racist desserts like KKK shaped cookies or a Fortune Cookie offering insults instead of fortunes or maybe a cake shaped like an Afro ... I bet black icing stains your teeth). Instead of looking into the issue I assumed -- yeah I know it makes an ass of me and you, whatever -- hmm ... Berkeley ... visited there once and it's full of hippies and homeless people so it's probably some sort of demonstration or homeless uprising ... which would be pretty cool. Homeless people charging down the street, riding their shopping carts like dog sleds, with medieval flails made out of aluminum cans, torches crafted from branches, booze and urinated on bedsheets. Pretty badass. (Can you tell I have ADHD? Like really have ADHD ... not like those posers who are simply trying to score some Adderall ... druggies).
Anyway, it wasn't until today I read an article about this racist bake sale and got the gist. To make a long story shorter, the Berkeley College Republicans feel California Gov. Jerry Brown (not as exciting as the name Schwarzeneggar, I know) has a discriminating and racist bill on his desk (Senate Bill 185) -- it allows the state's university system to consider race, ethnicity and gender in admission decisions, as long as these factors don't become the determining factor. Affirmative action was banned in state institutions in 1996 but because this new bill states these factors shouldn't be the be-all-end-all factors it's supposed to be OK.
Something smells fishy ... to me and the Berkeley College Republicans. To protest this fishiness, the group sponsored a bake sale -- Increase Diversity Bake Sale. No there weren't any racist KKK cookies but to mimic SB 185, there was a pay scale.
$2 for Whites
$1.50 for Asian Americans
$1.00 for Latino/Hispanic
$.75 for African Americans
$.25 for Native Americans
$.25 Off For All Women
Woo hoo! I get 25 cents off. What a deal.
It's called satire. People didn't have to pay these recommended prices but the poster advertising the cost was made to mimic SB 185, as in if that's not racist then neither is this.
Some people got it (I finally got it after reading about it) and were glad it made national headlines because it started a conversation about the bill and racism -- humor is a good way to begin discussing heavy issues like race. Others were upset, including black-clad students who laid face down in the quad in protest and other students who distributed pink conscious-cupcakes so we can all hold-hands-and-be-friends. Too bad your stupid pink cupcakes aren't going to make people like each other. Is pink supposed to equal happiness?
Duh.
No violence broke out. No one was arrested. The cupcakes sold out. While the sale was underway, the Student Government sponsored a phone bank (held yards away) in support of SB 185.
People were pissed and still are pissed. They found the satire offensive and distasteful, that the bake sale reduced the historical and current struggles that non-whites and women face as they seek education and employment. People are mad because when it comes to employment and education, outside factors are not factored.
How on Earth is this possible? How is a school or employer supposed to take into consideration all of these external factors and make an unbiased and good decision? User error! Too much room for error! You deserve to go to school here more than he or she does because you weren't provided with the same resources growing up and didn't have the chance to succeed. How is this factor scaled? She had a harder time growing up than he did ... why? How can you know this?
You want to go to a good school? Well apply to schools equivalent to your intelligence. Yeah, I would have liked to go to an Ivy League school but I did not have good enough grades and my extra-curricular activities were chiefly sports. Too bad, so sad. That's life. Here I sit a decade later wishing I would have taken my studies more seriously.
How about starting at the beginning and changing the cycle? Putting more money into schools located in low-income areas? Hiring better teachers and having more before- and after-school programs? Getting to the kids before they become even more underprivileged? Getting police to target gangs and evil-doers who, in turn, target these impressionable youth? Stopping the cycle.
Am I supposed to get a better job or into a better school because my dad was left disabled after a car accident when I was 6-years-old? Because I grew up poor? Hmm? Or is that not as bad as Joe Smith or Sally Jones? They had it tougher so they deserve it more.
SB 185 is Affirmative Action wrapped in different paper. Yeah, it means well but it is a slippery slope. Bravo to the Berkeley College Republicans for getting a conversation started in a unique way. People are always going to find something offensive so it's better to voice your opinion anyway.

Why do people care about the Emmys?

The 63rd Primetime Emmy Awards recently aired. The awards -- the equivalent of an Academy Award, Tony or Grammy -- are presented by the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences and feature several categories. Formerly referred to as the Emmy Awards, Primetime was added to differentiate the awards from the Daytime Emmy Awards ceremonies. The Primetime ceremony is usually aired the week before the start of the fall television season, as was the case this year.
So, I get it. There are worker bees plugging away to provide us with weeknight entertainment, from directors to actors to writers, and the best man, woman or show wins. OK. I get it. I enjoy "The Good Wife" and "NCIS" on a regular DVR-addicted basis -- like the Good Wife, I am the Good Daughter and watch and discuss both shows with my mother -- so I was glad when Julianna Margulies won.
However, that's where my interest and concern begins and ends.
I do not care to watch the Emmy program -- before or during the ceremony. I do not care to listen to red carpet interviews by talking heads claiming to be journalists. I do not care to watch Jane Lynch desperately try to be funny -- way to milk your character from "40 Year Old Virgin" for all its worth. I didn't care to watch Jimmy Fallon last year either or Neil Patrick Harris the year before. I do not care to watch the show wearing socks or while in a box. I do not like them here or there, I do not like them anywhere. I do not like the Primetime Emmys, I do not like them, Kate-I-Am.
To me, the Emmys is a load of b.s. Comedians yuk yuk yuking on TV, doing dance numbers and insulting people -- it's all so contrived. Women don ultra-expensive gowns and jewels after spending hours in a makeup chair. Men don ultra-expensive tuxedos or suits. Both sexes strut down the red carpet, eager to discuss themselves on national television to fakeass journalists (wankstas, as the kids say) so to stay relevant while real journalists are covering the national debt crisis, the Himalayan and Guatemalan earthquakes and other problems across the globe, problems far more important than why Alec Baldwin was a no-show and how many men had heart attacks after glimpsing Christina Hendricks' massive sweater cows. Meow!
But no, let's all play make believe with our make believe friends, the celebrities -- omg did you see Gwyneth Paltrow? She's so skinny! Does she eat? Omg did you see Jon Hamm? He's so dreamy. The things I'd do to him ...
Let's all watch their interviews because ... because ... why? They aren't real people!
What are you wearing? Are you excited about tonight? Do you think you will win? 
The celebrities carefully choose their words and deliver scripted b.s. that America eats up like potato chips in a bowl. Try to eat one chip. Try it! Celebrities can and that's why they are winning and we are losing!
Yeah, the morning after I checked out Google News and perused through Best Dressed and Worst Dressed pictures -- 5 to 10 minutes worth of my time while eating my breakfast. But that's about it because the Emmys are a private event for celebrities. They let us watch and pretend we're involved, pretend we matter and are part of the cool kid crowd because they need us to watch their shows. They're hoping we're half-retarded and dress up to attend Emmy parties at home with champagne and hors d'oeuvres. How pathetic. It's like getting dressed to go to prom and sitting alone at home because no one invited you!
Yeah, Julianna Margulies won. Good for her. I'm glad because I think she does a great job on "The Good Wife" but she and I are not friends and never will be. I don't know what she's like in real life. I am sitting in my living room typing an extremely bitter blog on a laptop in Small Town, U.S.A. and she is somewhere over the river and through the woods in La La Hollywood Land. I'm sure she cares and loves her fans but what does it matter? I don't love Julianna Margulies, I love her character on "The Good Wife." I love Alicia Florrick.
So, why do people watch the Emmys?

"Toddlers & Tiaras" exploits children and so does TLC

I'm sure you've seen the recent headlines ...
"Toddlers and Tiaras Mom Makes Daughter Wear Corset"
"Toddlers and Tiaras and sexualizing 3-year-olds"
"Toddlers & Tiaras Child Star Throws Tantrum Over Teeth Whitening"
And the one catching the majority of my frustration ... "Toddlers and Tiaras Tot Wears Pretty Woman Prostitute Costume"
The mother of this 3-year-old child dressed as Vivian Ward from "Pretty Woman" -- yes, complete with black knee-high boots, mini skirt and blonde wig -- was shocked people were outraged.
"Well, at this pageant there was an option to do celebrity-wear and we thought about what we could wear with her being a brunette and Julia Roberts is my favorite actress of all time. I thought it was real cute to do Julia. She’s 3, if she was 10 I never would have considered this. But as young as she is I thought it was very comical."
Hmm ... I have a pretty decent sense of humor but can find nothing humorous in the idea of a 3-year-old child dressed as a prostitute. Also, I don't understand the reasoning where it's OK at age 3 but not at 10? Sexualization at either of those ages is disgusting. Furthermore, so you like Julia Roberts? So do I. Considering she is an Oscar winning actress with decades of work under her belt ... you have a lot to choose from. Thankfully you didn't go with Erin Brockovich (don't get any ideas!) but why not "Runaway Bride" or "Mystic Pizza" (I have one of those T-shirts from the pizzeria) or her adorable role as Tinkerbell in "Hook" (extremely child appropriate)? With this in mind, what does your child wear on Halloween? An S&M outfit complete with a ball gag and whip?
The mother in question goes on to comment, "I’m amazed it’s caused this much of a frenzy. The judges loved it. Everybody except one particular mom went nuts over it. It was the cutest thing ever. It was very innocent. A lot probably would have been different if they aired the whole entire routine instead of just the hooker part."
Child prostitute does not equal cute but considering you're "amazed" by the outrage you are obviously insane and do not deserve to be a mother.
Equally un-cute was another child in TLC's "Toddlers & Tiaras" who, in an earlier episode, donned fake breasts and butt to emulate Dolly Parton.

What the f- is going on in a country where pedophiles are demoralized and shunned yet we provide a television show with sexed up toddlers? Does this make any sense? Hypocrites! We bitch and moan about our children becoming sexually active younger and younger but act as if we are powerless. Wtf are we teaching our children by airing this trash on TLC? Which, btw, stands for The Learning Channel. What exactly do you want us to learn from this irresponsible, disgusting and harmful show?
According to PBS, every child's development is unique. However, 3-year-olds are better able to handle distractions, can communicate in simple sentences, are learning their letters and are able to listen and understand stories, conversations and songs. I could go on but the most important aspect of a 3-year-old in relation to "Toddlers & Tiaras" is they begin to have real friendships and are learning to recognize the causes of their feelings. They can better manage their emotions but fall apart under stress.
With this in mind, what do you think being in a beauty pageant, with lots of hairspray, makeup and a prostitute outfit, will do for them? Ever heard of the word trauma? Post traumatic stress disorder? Yeah, maybe this mom thought it was cute but she's what, in her 20s or 30s probably? Her mind is a lot different than that of a 3-year-old. Did her daughter think it was cute? What was she thinking about wearing black hooker boots, a mini-skirt and a blonde wig on stage in front of judges? Whose idea was it to be in a beauty pageant? Can 3-year-olds even make those kind of decisions for themselves? They are 3!
As a matter of fact, the whole concept of "Toddlers & Tiaras" is an exploitation of children. Dressing them up as adults to parade in front of strangers. What kind of self awareness can they gain from this when they are too young to fully comprehend the f-ing alphabet?
Here honey, let's practice the ABC song while I put your black eyeliner on. 
You know what? I'm not as mad at the parents and families of these poor children as I am at TLC. Why do you give these monster-parents a platform? It is irresponsible and disgusting. TLC as an entity should be ashamed of themselves for putting this trash on TV so these horrible excuses for parents think what there doing deserves attention. Shame on you! Where is Child Protective Services when you need them? "Toddlers & Tiaras" is breeding children to become strippers.

Is it me or does President Barack Obama talk too much? Less talky talky, more walky walky ...

I don't know about you but I'm pretty tired of Barack Obama and his yakety yakety yak all the time on my TV. Town-hall meetings, speeches ... I understand the premise behind these fireside chats -- keep everyday Americans in the know -- but I can't help but believe it's more about Obama trying to make himself look good while also trying to make us feel better. Insert his 50 or so TV interviews here -- just saw him on TV talking with Dan Rather. Yes, we know you are a human being but shut up and go fix the country!
It's like his handlers are marketing a brand ... if I see Obama enough times I will want to buy into what he's selling. Just like Obama, I must also remember McDonald's burgers do not really look, or taste, like that and Pizza Hut sucks and will always suck.
Now that I think about it, I'm tired of all politicians and all the b.s. talk. They remind me of the parents in the various "Charlie Brown" films ... they yammer on and on but sound like tubas. Wah, wah, wah, wah! Blah blah, jobs, blah blah, America, blah blah, terrorists, blah blah, economy, blah blah, unemployment, blah blah, tea party, blah blah, freedom, blah blah, left wing, blah blah, right wing ...
the only wings I care about are deep fried and covered in hot sauce you no-good, egotistical, hatemongers.
America wanted a hero, someone to believe in and Obama took advantage of that. Isn't that always the case? Things go bad and we look for a savior. He or she is good for a while and then when things go bad again (aka the shit hits the fan), or don't get any better, we look to someone else.
The problem is we keep falling for this line of reasoning. We must realize no one is perfect ... there has never been a perfect president or human being and never will be. There is no clear answer on how to fix any of the nation's problems and the fixes we do find will take time. Most of all, Congress needs to work together to better the state of affairs. Didn't they learn in Kindergarten to play nice with others?
As for Obama, I need to see change before I will listen again. Don't tell me what you're gonna do, show me what you've done! And for goodness sake get off my damn TV!

Sorry ladies of larger carriage, especially the women of "Big Sexy" ... Marilyn Monroe was not fat

Although I've heard this doozy over the years, it recently hit home ... as in Biff from "Back to the Future" knocked on my head and yelled, "Anybody home? Huh? Think Kate, think!"
I was perusing the racks of Goodwill (such a fashionista, I know) and what did my wondering eyes behold ... an unusual outfit in the dress section. I held it up for closer inspection and my mother, aka fashion-partner-in-crime, commented, "Oh that's not a dress, it's a swimsuit from the '60s."
That's when the wheels started turning ...
I remembered ... I have one of these swimsuits. It's my moms old one and it's made of a thin cloth material ... I remembered how it fits kinda weird but I like to wear it for a retro look ... then I remembered the sizing. Ding ding ding.
Too bad the wheels of my mind don't turn for more groundbreaking revelations, but whatever.
When my mom originally offered me her old swimsuit (don't the styles seem to recycle every few decades?), I remembered noticing the size was a bit larger than my size and I commented it wouldn't fit. She said, oh no sizes were different back then. So, I put it on and realized she was right, it fit perfect.
Enter Marilyn Monroe. It's been remarked -- typically from larger women -- that big is beautiful. With any hypothesis you need evidence and the evidence for larger women is Marilyn Monroe was a size 16. If this iconic beauty was a larger size, than that means big is beautiful. Right?
Please say right so they can go back to eating poorly and being large. They want excuses because those Fritos are calling their names!
Well ... sorry to be the bearer of bad news but your math may be a bit off. Considering those '60s swimsuits ... Americans haven't only gotten bigger over the last few decades, the sizes have changed accordingly. I would have been a much bigger size back then and, as I stand at 6-feet-tall, I have a feeling I would've heard horrified screams of "Godzilla" from the public as I walked down the street. Just kidding ... probably.
Also, I did some research and concluded no one seems to know for sure Marilyn Monroe's size. Yes, as happens with most women, it fluctuated over her short span on Earth but nothing over-the-top. Also, as a celebrity of that era, wouldn't most of her clothing be tailored? Wouldn't she have a dressmaker?
So, with that in mind, I looked up her measurements and found these facts:
She was 5'5" and her weight fluctuated from 118 to 140 over the years. Her measurements were 37-23-36 and she was a 36D. Classic hourglass shape ... like ridiculously classic. Somewhere Sir Mix-a-lot is licking his big ass lips. Mmmm ...
With this in mind, bigger women need to leave poor Marilyn Monroe alone because she wasn't big. Voluptuous? Yes. Big? No way. She was the definition of sexy for that era and even today is a glorified sex pot. She's not some poster-girl for your cause. She's dead!
Honestly, even if she was a present-day size 16, would that make these women feel better? You could take 10 women with the same height and weight and have 10 completely different shaped human beings. So, what's the point. Leave Marilyn alone!
This makes me think about America. I read an article in "Prevention" magazine recently titled "How America Got So Fat (And So Sick)" and noticed a chart showing portion sizes entitled "Portion Distortion" ... one picture showed a 2003 portion size of spaghetti while the other was what Americans ate in 1983. What a difference! The calories were 500 in 1983 and 1,025 in 2003 because we evolved from 1 cup of spaghetti and three small meatballs for dinner to 2 cups of pasta and three huge meatballs! That was 2003, what do our portion sizes look like now since, according to the CDC, the portions grow every decade along with our waist sizes!
We want to super-size, we want more for our money, we want the extra-large chocolate shake instead of a drink, we want soda and desserts, we want, we want, we want, we want and we wonder why we're all so fat. What direction are we headed? Just look at commercials ... what's advertised? Bigger meals for less money. Bingo!
So, instead of using Marilyn Monroe for your poster child, pick someone who is actually a larger woman. Mia Tyler, Emme ... big is beautiful! You know what's not beautiful? Trying to make yourself feel better by using scapegoats. She's fat so it's OK I'm fat. No it's not! You are you, not somebody else! Fat, skinny, hairy, bald ... be you!

Irene, Katia, Lee ... tropical storms, cyclones and hurricanes -- Meteorologists Know That They Don't Know

As a resident of the eastern seaboard of the United States, I was concerned about Hurricane Irene. Obviously, since mama didn't raise no fool. Although ... I was most concerned with my Fantasy Football draft that weekend oozing with promises of day-drinking, smack-talking and bar-hopping. Of course, I was also worried about my home, belongings and the safety of myself and loved ones.
Instead of becoming a tough guy -- I ain't afraid of no hurricane -- I morphed into an 85-year-old retiree with weather on my mind. Small talk about the weather finally was interesting! I purchased bottled water and bread from the grocery store (well, what was left after the masses ran through there like the Apocalypse was close at hand). I returned home and was glued to weather.com and the Weather Channel.
Well ... glued for a little while since this obsession didn't last long. The talking weather heads sure were talking but didn't seem to know the exact course of the raging bitch, aka Irene. Although, it was humorous when Irene arrived in the U.S. and home viewers were given some no-name meteorologist in the midst of hurricane-force wind and rain with only a rain jacket, a microphone and a crouching tiger, hidden dragon pose to keep them from flying away. What morons.
Anywho, hurricanes and tropical storms are unpredictable. I'm not implying meteorologists are stupid because they aren't. Although some are extremely annoying -- yuk yuk Al Roker yuk yuk, aka A-Roke -- they are educated and intelligent in the wacky world of weather, a subject I am not well versed considering the only weather-related fact I remember from science class is that Scalene Clouds look like fish scales and foreshadow rain.
Although weathermen (and women who were obviously hired for more than their brains ...) are intelligent, weather is not an exact science. Key words in the Irene weather reporting included "possibly," "probably," "could," "might" ... notice a pattern?
Tropical Cyclone in Gulf Could Mean Rainy Holiday Weekend
Katia moves East ... she moves West ... she builds speed ... touchdown!
They know enough to tell us what's out there but they don't know enough to give us an exact prediction. All they can do is warn us something is coming. Something wicked this way comes. That was the scariest part.
It reminded me of a schoolyard bully. Instead of the typical, "I'll meet you after school at the bus stop. Your ass is grass!" ... we got "I will come for you ... or not. Maybe after school, maybe later tonight or maybe in an hour ... it might be at the bus stop ... or not. I may deliver a raging beatdown or not come at all. Your ass may or may not be grass."
Yikes. So you wait. You prepare as best you can. You make arrangements. You wait. I sometimes wish I knew what my future holds but what if it's something bad? Yeah, maybe I'd do as the cliche says and live life to the fullest and cherish everyday ... but I think I'm more likely to be freaked out everyday until the bad shit happens. You know, crossing out days on my calendar until the shit hits the fan. Sometimes it's better not to know.
Anyway, Irene came, she saw, she conquered some, blew past others. Some people felt her wrath rain down upon them, others were disappointed. Mostly people went to the bar for Hurricane Parties to drink away their worry -- anything is an excuse to party. I was a few beers deep myself when she started lighting us up (a few ... a dozen ... who's counting) so my memory is a bit hazy but I can tell you for a fact I didn't have power for three days because a fallen tree ripped through a power line in my neighborhood. I could bitch and moan about having to throw away all the food in my fridge and being hassled with no power for days or I could feel lucky I wasn't one of the 42 who died. Feel lucky a tree didn't fall on my house or flood waters didn't ruin my furnishings.
For all the New Yorkers upset because they think their officials overreacted ... shut up and return to thinking you're the most important people in the world. Shove a bagel down your throat, choke on some espresso and fill your lives with bright lights, filth and traffic. People died, people didn't have power for days ... think outside your pollution filled bubble for once. Some parts got hit harder than others and all of it was compared to powerhouse Hurricane Katrina. My hurricane was bigger than your hurricane!
Yeah maybe it was hyped but that's part people-are-stupid-and-need-an-extreme-warning-so-they-don't-go-outside-during-a-storm-but-probably-will-anyway and part this was the Superbowl for meteorologists who typically talk about sunshine, rain and boring shit. They want to be Helen Hunt in "Twister" (who doesn't), they want extreme weather so they can totally geek out and talk about tropical depressions and cyclones, they want to track major storms.
For all the complainers, you have a brain. Perhaps your brain is not as well developed (aka you're dumb) but that's your fault. When people are over-hyping things, use your brain. Track the weather, Google the hurricane and check statistics. Don't blame others for your own stupidity because that makes you look even stupider. And that's not a good look!
Although ... maybe meteorologists shouldn't over hype storms so stupid people continue about their business and venture out and about in the storm and die at the mercy of the whirling wind and rain so they stop repopulating the Earth at an astounding rate. Just a thought ...
Anywho ... hurricane season is upon us folks and will continue to resurface every year. It's like when people get bent out of shape when summertime is hot and wintertime is cold ... duh, this happens every year so get with the program! This hurricane season, better safe than sorry ... well, except for stupid folks. When Hurricane Katia comes, why don't you go outside when she arrives and say hello? Won't you be, won't you be, please won't you be Katia's neighbor?

Earthquake hits East Coast, let the end-of-the-world 2012 and terrorism hysteria begin

I was sitting in my living room a little before 2 p.m. Tuesday, hunched over my laptop screen, working on a book review. My thoughts were inward, as is the way with writers ...
If this the right word? It doesn't sound right. It sounds awkward. What am I trying to say?
God, I want a snack. Mmm ... those crackers in the kitchen are low fat, right? Aren't writers supposed to snack while they work. Drink too. No, shut up. You don't need a snack or a drink.

I need to finish this rough draft and then hit the gym and come back and look at it one more time before submitting.
Ugh. The gym. Maybe if I don't go it'll be OK ... but, wait, I can't do it tomorrow because I have to work. Excuses, excuses. Supermodels don't make excuses. They starve with smiles on their stupid, perfect faces. Well then I have to ...
Somewhere between these meaningless thoughts and my furious typing, I felt the sofa beneath me sway like I was on a ferris wheel at the very top. Side to side. Back and forth. I felt the house move. The sound, that weird sound of a house stretching, of the ground beneath me moving -- the sweet Earth I've always counted on for support -- was uncanny. It was like somebody finally told me Santa wasn't real.
In a silent, alert and freaked out reaction I stood up and ran to the doorway.
My first thought -- this is a terror attack. We are under attack. They finally did it, those bastards. I waited for a flash or bright light. Sounds of bombs falling. Possibly a siren like during World War II (a lot of my emergency experience comes from movies). Something, anything. Nothing came.
But this can't be a earthquake because the East Coast doesn't get earthquakes! I'll admit I cried from fear -- yeah you West Coast earthquake connoisseurs, go ahead and laugh it up!
Then it stopped -- those seconds that felt like minutes screeched to a halt. Mother Nature wins again by reminding us we are at her mercy. Earthquakes out of the blue, a monstrous hurricane rumbling up the coast -- although it doesn't sound ferocious with the name Irene. Tricky, tricky! Mother Nature always wins. No fair!
My first thought -- ashamed because when I thought it was terrorism my life didn't flash before my eyes. Isn't that supposed to happen? You know, telling God you love your family and thanking Him and praying for help. Telling Him you'll do better or be a better person -- maybe stop drinking, swearing and being a complete slut. Or maybe come to terms with your demise and reminiscing on the highlight reel of your existence. Considering the earthquake lasted mere seconds, there wasn't enough time to jump-start that mechanism.
Second thoughts -- I hope my loved ones are OK emotionally and physically. How Hallmark of me!
I turned on my local news to find out what was going on -- which is equivalent to the old days when people walked outside their homes and talked to neighbors. After the weatherman shared pointless tidbits I could have Googled in seconds, he turned the camera over to a man-on-the-street reporter who questioned an interesting skeleton of a woman about her experience. When she mentioned she was "so scared I had to go out and have a cigarette afterwards," I wondered. Are we really this stupid or are we desensitized -- or a bit of both?
If you don't agree with me, just sign on to Facebook or Twitter and read the responses to the earthquake, which are humorous and, at the same time, depressing.

"It wasn't an earthquake. It was our forefathers rolling over in their graves."
Also see, "that was no earthquake, it was Obama's approval rating hitting the floor" and "Obama is naming the epicenter of the earthquake, Bush's Fault."

Perhaps some "I Survived the Quake of '11" T-shirts? Or an Earthquake Party ... what would that entail? Maybe imbibe in some looting in your hometown.

What about the people who wondered when the tsunami was coming since that's what happened in Japan.

Or maybe we should all get to church for prayer, reflection and confession since it's the End of Days. It was an act of God due to our sinful and disgusting ways. Just ask the homophobic rabbi, Yehuda Levin, who commented, "One of the reasons that God brings earthquakes to the world is because of the transgression of homosexuality. The Talmud states, 'You have shaken your male member in a place where it doesn't belong. I too, will shake the Earth.'"
Oooo shake your money maker you sinful beasts and God will shake back with force!
Also see, Joseph Farah, editor of WorldNetDaily.com, who said, "Washington, D.C., deserves more than the wallop it got today. It needs a much bigger shaking up than it got. And I have no doubts that it is coming -- unless there is a real change of heart in the leadership of this country. After all, if America doesn't face judgment soon, God will have to apologize to Sodom and Gomorrah. And God doesn't offer apologies. He is trying to tell us something. His message is very clear. Don't say you weren't warned."
Now I know ancient civilizations believed God was behind natural forces, including earthquakes and storms, but this was because they didn't know better ... so, come on now, you're reaching. If God was so mad about homosexuality, don't you think He'd do something more specific and damaging? Yes, I believe in signs but you can't go around believing everything is a sign to aid in your ridiculous beliefs.
Ooooo there's a bird outside my window! It's a message from God and He is trying to tell me to leave work right now and go do whatever I want because birds are free to roam Earth and soar from the heavens on wings of grace, just like I should be! Right? Maybe I should go up on the roof and jump like Eric in "The Boy Who Could Fly." What a great movie ...
Anyway, some people believe 2012 is upon us and the earthquake was a tap on the shoulder, a hint to our future destruction. Looky looky what I can do! There's more where that came from! Wink, wink. Or it wasn't God, it was aliens sucking up our natural resources before they suck out our brains and make us slaves.
I'll take shaping today's events to serve as evidence for our personal beliefs, biases and values for $2,000 Alex. Oh I picked a Daily Double?! Excuse me while I dry heave.
I know some people were joking, trying to get some likes on their Facebook page. But, as for the others, really?
Why are we so narrow minded to believe everything backs us up. Yeah, you can shape every situation and happening to back up your beliefs -- whether it's God's rage, aliens, politics, whatever. But isn't that a bit ridiculous?
How about using the earthquake as a reminder Mother Nature is bigger, badder and meaner than us all. I was in an earthquake Tuesday and have a hurricane barreling down on my lovely home. Mother Nature 2, Kate 0. I don't rule this planet or any planet for that matter. I can pollute the air with my automobile, take my non-biodegradable trash to the dump, promote big business by shopping at malls and big box stores ... but I'm never going to win because a hurricane, tsunami, earthquake or some other natural disaster could take it all away in mere seconds. This has nothing to do with Democrats or Republicans, the end of the world, aliens, homosexuality or Obama ... it has to do with humans and how we aren't dominate. Earth can kick our ass any day of the week and there's nothing we can do about it because we suck at her teet every second of the day, breathing the air, drinking the water, eating the food.
Or, maybe it really was aliens. Beam me up Scotty, there's no sign of intelligent life here.

E! Online compares Kris Humphries, Kardashian family to Prince William and the royals ... what's the big deal about Kim Kardashian's wedding

The U.S. unemployment rate in July was 9.1 percent. Americans are out of work or, if lucky enough to hold on to their jobs, faced with reduced hours and paychecks and higher prices at the pump and in the grocery store. People across the country worry over how they will buy food, gas, pay bills and provide for their families.
But don't let this stop Kim Kardashian and New Jersey Nets star Kris Humphries from providing America and the world with a $10 million wedding. Don't worry everybody ... according to msnbc, Kim stands to make a few million dollars selling her wedding photos (no wonder cameras aren't allowed at the wedding). She also released a limited-edition perfume to coincide with the big event, Love By Kim Kardashian -- wonder what greed smells like? She is playing America for millions yet people still feed on her every word like groupies. Is it because men want to do her and women want to be her so the men will do them? What's the deal with Kim K and the Kardashian family?
The media panders to the stupid and is on Kim's wedding, and life, like fruit flies on a rotten peach.
Is Kim losing weight to look good in her wedding photos? Kim is calm and not feeling any pre-wedding jitters (whew! I will sleep well tonight knowing this doozy!) Which wedding dress should Kim K wear?
According to E! Online (shocking they would furiously suck at the Kardashian teet since the family makes millions for E! ... shocking ... they are a PR campaign for their shows, especially considering the wedding will air in a two-night special on E! in October) ... anyway, according to E! Online Kim and Kris' wedding is "one of the most secretive weddings in history!" Nothing about Kim's life or her body is secret. Just ask Ray J or read "Playboy" or any trash rag.
In addition to publishing dozens of articles about the wedding, E! Online went as far to compare Kris Humphries and the Kardashian family to Prince William and the Royals ...
Could you imagine Kim Kardashian and Kate Middleton meeting? Kris H and Prince William? Kourtney and Pippa? Khloe and ... Grace Van Cutsem? Kendall and Kylie Jenner vs. Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie? And, last but not least, Kris Jenner and the Queen herself. Too bad they didn't include Bruce and Prince Charles and Rob Kardashian and Prince Harry.
A better comparison would be to spotlight the weird K obsession the Kardashian and Humphries families share. Kris H has two sisters, Krystal and Kaela. So we have Kim, Kris J, Kris H, Kourtney, Khloe, Kendall, Kylie, Krystal, Kaela ... pretty stupid.
Too bad money can't buy a royal title.
The only things these pairings make me think of -- other than the outright absurdity of comparing the money-hungry Kardashians to royalty -- is what a great episode of "Celebrity Deathmatch" these lineups would make. Can you imagine watching a fight to the death between the Queen Mum and Kris Jenner's Botoxed grill? Obviously Prince William will get his ass handed to him by hulky Kris H and Khloe would probably eat Grace. Kourtney might not fare so well against athletic Pippa. Place your bets world!
Absurdity like this makes me think of aliens ... it's arrogant to believe we are alone in such a vast, complicated and beautiful universe. If you're uber religious and think God uses the universe, as well as things like dinosaur fossils, to trick us into questioning our faith ... well, good luck with that.
So anyway, we've got these aliens flying around and they come upon Earth. They study us, hopefully to find out if we're a friendly race (not to find out how to turn us into slaves or destroy our planet). What do they learn? What would they think about our obsession with reality television, celebrities, porn, alcohol, plastic surgery, money and material possessions.
It's like a brother on the down low ... you can build this facade with a wife and children but it doesn't change the fact you have sex with men on the side, whether you want to acknowledge it or not.
Aliens aren't going to take the time to study us deeply ... unless they beam us up and do some probing -- ouch, not so rough baby! They are going to take a snapshot and take it for what it's worth. Maybe they catch the brother on the down low with his family or you reading The New Yorker. Maybe they catch the brother in bed at a ratty pay-by-the-hour hotel with two transvestites -- Gloria Hole and Ginger Vitis. Or they find you watching a marathon of "Keeping Up With The Kardashians" in your underwear with a bowl of popcorn and a pint of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food.
Would you do half the things you do if you knew other people were watching? Other people were taking notes and judging, building a character file on you? Well ... maybe they are watching right now. What would they see?
So ... with all this Kim Kardashian wedding b.s., the only thing I'd like to know is how long until Kim and Kris get divorced so E! can run a two-night special on Life After Divorce: Kim K Learns to Love Again ... too bad they will have millions of viewers tuned in to suck at the teet of filth and the dumbing of America. Whether you like it or not, Kim K and her family aren't real people, they are actors playing roles to suck every penny out of your pocket.

Let me be your hero ... why we worship strangers and misrepresenting friends, foes, why we wanna be just like them

What is it with hero worship?
When it comes to these people -- our heroes -- we wish we were like them (possibly even want to take over their body and life completely like in a sci-fi novel) because, then and only then, everything would be fabulous.
Maybe you aren't the type to say fabulous ... how about perfect? Sublime? Awesome? Or, if you wanna go old school, everything's aces! Tops! Anyway, if we were like our hero we would be happy, well liked, successful and satisfied.
If things go wrong -- we are upset, annoyed, depressed, angry, anxious -- we look for a savior. We look outside instead of looking within because we know what we will find, insecurities and negativity. If we ignore it then it will go away, right? It's so much easier to ignore it and wish upon a magic star we were someone or somewhere else.
It could be that we crave material possessions or food to fill the void or maybe we wish we were more like So-And-So who acts cool, calm and collected at all times.
If you can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen ... well So-And-So stays in the kitchen and cooks a delicious five-course meal while still looking gorgeous because they are awesome!
Or, we wish we were married to So-And-So who would make the perfect mate because he or she is ... (insert craved for attributes here). How do we know? Well, duh, we've spent time with this person and they are perfect! We hear everyone talk about how perfect they are, everyone swoon.
We don't think this person can't possibly be perfect because no one is perfect. We don't think it's the image they project, instead of their true self. It's like when you first start dating someone ... it takes time before you get to the real person because everyone puts up a wall. Maybe it's a defense mechanism to protect their feelings or maybe it's a fake persona they use to attract someone ... you know, where they pretend to be interested in everything the other person enjoys so this person will like them, aka low self esteem. Whatever the reason, that ain't them!
And even when you get past those few months (or more) and, hopefully, are face-to-face with the true person, when you finally get past the mask, you will never know what it's like to be them. Even if they describe their innermost feelings and desires until they are blue in the face, you will never know because you are not them.
I'm not saying everyone is miserable deep inside. There are people who are happier than others. Duh. Everyone is different.
It's like when you see the finished product -- someone who plays the guitar really well or publishes a fantastic book -- and wish you could do that. You don't want to put in the time, the hours of work/practice, the frustration and second-guessing, you want the endgame! Similarly, you see these people and want to be like them or, pardon my French, do the big nasty with them because you know they are perfect, everything you've ever wanted and more.
Why can't we understand no one is perfect? These people -- celebrity or not -- have ups and downs like everyone else. Yeah, maybe a lot of them are better looking than the Average Joe but looks are fleeting for all and airbrushed and filled with Botox for most. These movie characters are not real. Everyone is just saying their lines for a paycheck.
Eric Northman is not going to walk in your back door (after asking to be invited in, of course) and sweep you off your feet to a life of luxury, darkness, and sex beyond your wildest dreams.
You're not going to wake up tomorrow, stumble into the bathroom and notice, wow, you've lost 15 pounds overnight! Look at those abs!
I'm not going to check my bank account to see if I have enough moolah to buy a full tank of gas and notice, oh me oh my, for some reason the U.S. Government deposited a check for $500,000 due to a computer error.
It must be my lucky day!
In addition to celebrities (real-life Hollywood shells of people as well as your heroes from TV, movies and books), your misrepresenting friends or acquaintances may be seasoned at putting on a mask, hiding their inner darkness and pretending everything is fantastic because, honestly, who enjoys hanging out with Debbie Downer? Nobody. Also, perhaps they could fake it until they make it ... you know, keep telling yourself everything is fine and then, voilà, it will be fine!
Is it because of the media? The media tells us who to love, who to hate and spins news this way or that with a few choice words to have us thinking this celebrity is crazy and stuck on her ex while this other celebrity has a perfect body but swears it's due to diet and exercise only. Doesn't life seem so much more important with cameras following you around and the world hanging on to every word you say and move you make?
Sources close to Ms. Blah Blah Blah say she eats raw carrots and green tea shakes and works out 10 hours a day!
Oh, how I want to be just like Ms. Blah Blah Blah so ... so ... ? Why do we want to be like these people, these people we don't know. Yeah, you read about them in the news, you watch their interviews on talk shows, you watch their films or TV shows but that's not them. It's all fake!
Although I was relieved to learn, through Entertainment Weekly, Bert and Ernie are not gay, according to a Sesame Street representative. Whew! Ernie can continue his love affair with Rubber Duckie and all will be well and good in the world.
Rubber duckie, I love you!
Maybe it's because in movies, TV shows and books we are given characters who are so intricately developed we begin to believe they are real. We sit and watch them week after week and foster a one-sided, beautiful friendship. These characters have gorgeous bodies or beautiful minds or lives or, perhaps, they don't but they often win in the end. Find their soul mate, catch the bad guy, get that new job because we don't want unhappy endings since we are already unhappy. We watch these movies and TV shows and read these books because we want to escape life -- maybe people, maybe a specific person, maybe a job or overall sadness. We want to sit for a half an hour or hour TV show or a two hour movie and not have to think. We want to live vicariously through someone else and that someone better land on their feet or it's all over for us. We so need someone to believe in, someone to show us that life isn't all bad, it's not always going to be this way.
It's like going to sleep and getting lost in a fantastic dream. It's so real and alive and wonderful until you wake up and it's gone and you're back to reality. It's Monday morning all over again. The holidays are over, along with your excuse for overeating, and here you stand with an extra 15 pounds injected right into your gut. Sexy!
Life is pain princess and if anyone tells you otherwise, they're selling something. Maybe it's an image, maybe it's just easier this way, maybe they don't want you to know ... whatever the case may be, no one is perfect. You aren't, I'm not and these heroes certainly are not either.
It reminds me of advertisements for tampons. You can find as much sunshine and happiness as you want and put it in a 30-second commercial or on a magazine page but I know buying your brand is not going to make my monthly bill any less lame. There is blood escaping my body through a very personal area (yuck), there are cramps, bitterness, bloating, large underwear and no white clothing involved ... as a seasoned menstrater, you ain't gonna fool me Chief! However, doesn't a part of you want to believe the advertisement. Wouldn't it be wonderful to switch tampon brands and find it makes everything so wonderful? Wouldn't it be wonderful to wear Axe Body Spray and have beautiful women crawling all over you?
No one wants to admit this is the way it is and how it's gonna be because that's not the type of society we live in. We want the miracle. We want everything handed to us. We want it to be easy.
It's like a writer who writes daily on different subjects (wink, wink, nudge, nudge ... me) but keeps finding he/she is writing about the same things. That's because I am what I am, those are the things I find interesting, those are the things that bother me. Yeah, I could want to be really into football, horror movies or video games so I can share that love with my husband, or really into decorating or cooking like a sibling, or simply be really into anything so I can find an anchor in life, an anchor to keep me grounded in meaning in this nasty sea. The waves rise and crash against me but at least I find comfort and purpose in scrapbooking or camping or live music.
However, too bad, so sad, I am not fanatic about any particular thing but that's OK. Cest la vie. I'm the youngest of four so I was raised under the impression it ain't all about me so I better learn to compromise, fight or starve. Maybe if we stop trying to be someone else or something else, we can finally be happy with what we are and, also, finally know what that is ...
However, maybe we need these strangers, these celebrities, and maybe we need our misrepresenting friends to distract us from life, give us something to hope for, something to dream about and shoot for so life doesn't seem so pointless and harsh. You're born and then you start dying. You are a candle burning and burning away until the light goes out.
On the other hand, maybe I think too much and need to get out of my head -- obviously I've heard this comment before -- but, as the 8-year-old boy I babysit for often says in response to anything he doesn't like, "who cares?"