Who Saw the Oscars!?

How long was it? 4 hours? About 3.75 of them centring on people you have never heard of? Is that how it was? Little bit of mildly funny interspersed. The kind that produces in you one of those "oh, tee hee that's amusing" kind of laughs? Like the cute commercials do?

Was Jack Nicholson there in the front row, looking all bad, because he's such a bad boy? What exactly makes Jack Nicholson so bad anyway? Is he a heroin dealer or something? Just wearing Ray Bans does not really make you bad. And not to get too picky, but Jack Nicholson is no boy. If you insist he's bad then he's a bad man which now sounds less cute.

Who else was there? Was creepy Joan Rivers out there making snarky remarks about people? God, if anyone should talk, that woman with her horrible plastic surgery and her homely daughter has got to be it.

How about the big GENIUS directors -- were they all there holding court like they usually do?

I don't know I didn't see it.

My Oscar Predictions

Best Picture: Don't care
Best Actor: Not relevant to my life
Best Actress: Care even less than I do about the Best Actor Category
Best Director: Yaw, like this is the one I am suddenly caring about
Best producer: Motherfucker, I don't even know what a producer does
Best Supporting Actor: Please
Best Supporting Acress: Shyeahh

Let's sum up--not interested in "The Oscars" ; don't give a flying fuck who does or does not win, and really don't get why anyone who is not in that self congratulatory industry does.

Women and Children First

That's over.

You can't have equality in pay and work and education and domestic responsibilities and then expect to be treated unequally when it comes to spaces on a lifeboat.

You Better Believe I Do!

Here's me: driving along in traffic, listening to maybe one of the greatest songs ever (Do I Do by the great Stevie Wonder), but not enjoying it it as much as I could have been because Senior Stan is driving about 35 kph (umm that's like uhhh, oh it's ummm , say roughly 22 mph) in front of me.

Since I am tailgating him so severly I cannot help notice his curly white haired lady friend in the front seat. She seems remarkably agile for a senior. I am impressed. Then I got a look at her profile; turns out she's a poodle. No really, an actual poodle.

Then I drive home to my cul de sac, still have the Stevie Wonder going, and my neighbour makes some comment about how I need to modernize my musical tastes and why don't I listen to Nickelback.

This is what I am dealing with people. 24/7.

Now don't you feel petty worrying about your stuff?

Yes, I thought you might.

Matchmaking -- Ladies, Here's How It's Done

Before I begin, I'll ask you to make sure you are seated comfortably because this match is simply going to blow your mind.

This is too good to fuck around with a lot of ellipses, so let's just get right to it...

I match John Mayer with Norah Jones.

IS YOUR MIND BLOWN RIGHT NOW!?

ARE YOU ALL, OMIGOD WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT!?*

I know, it's fucking awesome.

UPDATE:

My Entertainment news and gossip meter was all aglow today because apparently John Mayer and Jessica Simpson broke up. God Bless their hearts.

John Mayer make your goddam move already!


*You know why, because the great ones always make it look so simple, but in truth I have been ciphering in my laboratory for days.

Decisions, decisions

You know, I pretty much had it all figured out. I had decided that Johnny Depp was my imaginary husband. And then didn't Matt Dillon have to show up again in my life today. Now I have had to reopen the debate, because Matt Dillon has a certain je ne sais quoi, that with Johnny Depp is not so much of a mystery since you pretty much know up front what the quoi is. Matt Dillon can look, dare I say, a little preppy at times, which can come in handy in the lives of most women.

I am still thinking about it.

It is high time I realized

that I must give up the dream of the gay son.

My son likes girls; and that is just the way it is.

So for me, there will be no Sunday morning phone calls inviting me to brunch and an afternoon spent antiquing. Nor will there be any helpful shopping trips, or trips to the tony beuaty salon of a friend.

No, not for me.

Because my son likes the ladies.

But that's okay because he's my son and I love him anyway.

Rosie Vs. Donald T. (now that noone cares)

I side with Rosie O'. First, Rosie, whether you want to admit it or not, has done a lot to change television for the better. In her way, she has made celebrity and celebrities more human and more accessible. She's demystified something that probably never should have been mystified to begin with. And she's broken down some kind of invisible wall that existed between "stars" and their "fans".

Donald Trump may have done much to advance assholism and skullduggery, but I don't keep up with those fields so I can't say for sure. Why is his hair fair game? Well, much like President Bush's misproununciations, it's fair game because he does it so much, for so long, and refuses to even acknowledge there's anything wrong with it to the point that it surely must say something about the character of the man. Rosie knows she's fat and acknowledges it every day. So while she may not be changing it, at least she's acknowledging it. That's already far healthier.

Now that some time has past it really fucking offends me that people didn't stand up for her. And if it's true that Oprah said "Finally someone said what everyone was thinking" in response to that VILE Camile Paglia's horrible comments about Rosie and Donald Trump, then I am sad to say but I am disgusted with Oprah, too. (I really hope that's not the case). And Camille Paglia needs to have her feminist ID Badge taken away. And the decoder ring. She really does. She's a bad man.

WOW! I'm Time's Person of the Year. WOW! I'm flabbergasted! Well, truthfully I should say I am not really all that surprised. Like it's not right outta the blue because let's face it I do do a lot. Really, when you consider all my accomplishments, who else could they pick. But still, I do want to thank some people. First and foremost I want to thank our heavenly father, God. I don't have an agent or any sort of representation, but if I did I would be thanking them. Of course, the publishers of Time magazine, thank you for recognizing my many achievments over the year -- it's good to be appreciated, but on this level, wow again! Thanks to my wonderful family for being the main recipient of my accomplishments. (Many of you are probably thinking wow, she is classy to thank her family for what she has done. YAH, hence the Person of the Year award). And thank you to you, Dear Reader (again classssss-y because what have you got to do with it, really?)

Nucular

I saw your President on tv this morning and he said "nucular" about 15 times. But this morning, instead of marvelling at how far the Yale education has fallen like I usually do, this morning I thought it actually said something about the man.

He has been corrected countless times in the press, even ridiculed about his mispronounciation of that word. Mocked, I'd say in some circles, not mentioning any names, okay David Letterman, for six long, long, really, really long years, and yet he persists.

Despite the critics and the naysayers, he has stayed the goddam course of lousy diction.

I gots me a new favourite teevee show

30 Rock, baby!

Thir-tay rock. Mr. Alec Bladwin makes me weep with artistic and comedic
appreciation. If you missed it, you're a fuckup! Naw, not really, but kinda.
Kay, so watch it next time. It is fantastic, and trust me I have good taste. (I'm the one who suggested installing an Easy Bake oven in your computer)

Some Suggestions for Improving the Modern Computer

1. (I am getting tired of saying this so now I have to shout it. That's right, compunerds, your complete and total lack of progress in this area has forced me to put my finger on the caps lock button. I am not joking around.) FIND A WAY TO GET MY COMPUTER TO DISPENSE SOFT DRINKS.

2. On the topic of food, please, please, please work with the people at Mattel to install some sort of Easy Bake oven into the next generation of computers. I have several drives that I am not currently using and would appreciate it if I could slide a small cake pan in one of them while I am working. Ten minutes later, ding! There's cake. I could also accept a toaster oven; something that'll do a mini pizza or a bagel. I am frankly surprised, given the rotund nature of some in the "tech" field, that this has not already been developed.

3. Do something about the names of these websites. When I type in something like "hard candy" I expect to be taken to a website related to actual candy.

4. A make up mirror would also make a nice addition.

5. Some of these keys on the keyboard are absolutely useless. I already have one F key, I do not need any additional F keys, let alone 10. Duh! Honestly, what are you people smoking? Scroll Lock? Never heard of it, have no idea what it does, never will. It goes!

6. Make they keyboard self-cleaning. Nothing fancy, just a couple of Dr. Seuss type hands that come out and sweep up crumbs.

7. Change the "helpful"-It-looks-like-you're-writing-a-letter paperclip to one Mr. Johnny Depp.

8. Change the "start up" music to a voice that says "You're soooooo prettty!". That's just good for everyone's self esteem.

Isn't String Theory such a tantalizing idea. Imagine the possibilities of many different dimensions existing simultaeously, with many different yous in each one.

For sure in String A it turns out I did make it past the security guard at the studio where they filmed 21 Jump Street, and Johnny Depp did not in fact look super freaked out when I pulled out my 240 page Ode to his beauty (inside and out people, I am not shallow like some of you). We were married later that day and live happily together in...what am I crazy, I cannot tell you where we live, one of your alternate dimension selves will show up and try to harass us. Nice try, Internet!

String B: Puppy world!

String c: Fame. I am super famous in this one, but in a different way. I am like a combination of Mother Theresa and Beyonce. So I divide my time between caring for the dying and producing hit records and performing super sexy dance numbers on tv. I am loved by millions, including Johnny Depp. See you really cannot screw with fate. Brad Pitt hits on me constantly, and while I do find him attractive, I cannot go for it because of my high moral principles and his performance in Meet Joe Black.

String D: Bought a Quiznos!

Big Brother

Well, it's down to the final two. I have to say, given the choice between Erica and the alternative, I am voting for the senior citizen lady. Erica seems like a very nice fellow, but I have always had a spot in my heart for Maude. Go Bea Arthur! Grey Panthers all the way!

Of course I was sad to see Janelle go; and like all the others I spent so much time ridiculing, I, in the end, wanted to see Will kiss her. I found myself on the edge of the sofa yelling at the tv like the fellers do when they are watching a sporting event: "Yeeeessss, that's it, move closer. Good! Now take her hand, okay, good, gooooood, move in. Come on, you're Keith Partridge. Yawn and stretch! AW FUCKING Chicken George! Godammmmmit!" Intercepted. That's why I don't follow sports -- too frustrating.

And I am on the Will Kirby bandwagon. I may divorce my husband for Will Kirby and then start dating other guys just so I can dump them for Will Kirby.

Cut to my diary...

Mrs. Will Kirby
Mrs. William Kirby
Dr. and Mrs. W. Kirby

Duffland!

My eight year old son had a single objective: to buy every gun at Disneyland. It may surprise you to know that there are a total of seven guns for sale at Disneyland, and may not surprise you to learn that having nine guns in your suitcases makes for some good times at security screening.

You will encounter punk rockers at Disneyland, and, while not an expert in these matters, it does seem that getting into a whiny fight in line at the gift shop with your mom and grandma about how many Pirates of The Caribbean skulls you can buy with your Disney Bucks could negatively affect your streed cred.

There truly is a seamy underisde to Duffland, and I would say it's mildew. Every single water ride had a funny smell. I was wearing white pants, got splashed on the Pirates of the Carribbean ride and the water left yellowish stains on my pants. That was kinda punk rock.

All roads lead to the gift shop. No exceptions.

The only people riding motorized scooters were people who looked like they could have used a good long walk. Like really long. Say around the Earth twice. Jared, rock on!

Eight year old boys are way too cool to have their pictures taken with Lilo and Stitch, but their moms aren't! And it was all fun and games until Stitch tried to cop a feel. You can't tell me you have absolutely no feeling in those giant plushie hands.

Like Nature,

I, too, abhor a vacuum.

So, I bought a Roomba! It's a li'l robot that vacuums my carpet and sweeps my floors. And no, I do not have shares in the company, but I might get some one day.

And yes, you can put that in your pipe and smoke it, hippie.

Great News for Stephen Harper

And I mean that sarcastically.

Turns out that he has even more competition to be George Bush's best friend. George Bush has pretty much said that The Prime Minister of Japan is his second best friend, what with his recording an album of his favourite Elvis songs and everything. So, now Stephen has to battle it out with Vincente Fox for third best friend, when everyone knows he was really trying for BFF.

I just know at the next G8, Stephen is going to be expecting George to save a seat for him at his table, and George is going to be all "oh, sorry Steven, but Tony got here first." You know, trying to make it out like it was Stephen. So then Steph's going to have to be all "oh, that's okay, I was just coming over to say hi, but I am supposed to be sitting with Norway." And then Tony kinda stiffles a laugh, because he can be a real jerk about stuff like that, and Tony chimes in with "Oh when did Norway go G8?" Typical Brit, all sarcastic and everything.

The Stephen pretends he has a super important IM to answer and uses it as an excuse to leave.

If that doesn't make you cry, I don't know what will.

The Blowout

In our twenties, my friends and I were kinda hip, and so, for some reason, presumably as some sort of by-product of Canadian hipness, we could necer use the actual name for anything and so instead, someone, usually me, (because I was one of the worst offenders) had to come up with some sort of name that was usually meant to be used in a funny way (like saying "groovy" in 1985 for example, which I personally think I resurected from the dead, but I digress.

No, right now I am talking about the word BLOWOUT, which means "party" , big warehouse party but, given the times and our ages was pretty much crappy bachelor suite apartment party.

Doesn't the name imply loud music, lots of alcohol and some smashing of things? In reality, blowouts were usually held by one guy, in his apartment, with the stereo solidly set at three, an assortment of "appetizers" like mini quiches (it was the 80s)and hummus (in the 80s, see I told you we were hip), with Dan scurrying around with a garbage bag tied around his waist for easy trash disposal. Invariably, someone would get into a fight about strippers, and the passive aggressive guy would "accidentally" knock over a the dining table. The irony of the name vs. the experience was not lost on me.

Yeah, but like I said, we called it a blowout.

Unfair Fact of Life #76

No woman really considers it sexual harassment if she thinks the guy is hot. Best case: she finds it flattering; worst case it's a cute annoyance.

Slap an extra 20 years and sixty pounds on the feller; add one comb-over and whammo, you've got yourself a lawsuit.

I'm just saying.

Web TV Users UNITE!

Remember seeing things like this, on the internet, a few years ago:

I AM A WEB TV USER AND CANNOT MAKE PARAGRAPHS.

Then the person would go on and on in their free form, no-paragraph prose.

Apparently, there must have been criticism about Josephine Web TVUser's big ol' page of all caps text because she always felt the need to preface everything with that caveat. There she was, sitting on her hideaway couch in her double wide, and one day she decides she's going to get on the internet, and some asshole somewhere convinces her that WEB TV is the wave of the future. And she's not very wordly in such matters, plus the price is right, so she buys it. And on that day, that fateful day, she wasn't aware she was dooming herself to a lifetime of paragraphless forum posts, and the harsh, harsh world of the internet critic.

Will you not weep for Josephine?