Month: October 2011

Kim Kardashian to divorce after only 72 days of marriage

I ate a sandwich today. It was peanut butter and jelly. It was okay, not great. I think it might have had too much jelly. The point is I wish I had some leftover lasagna from the previous night’s dinner, but alas that was not meant to be.

I think I might even have to eat another peanut butter and jelly sandwich tomorrow and I just went grocery shopping!! Why the heck didn’t I pick up something good for my midday meal?

This may seem like a boring post, mainly because it is. But something even less interesting happened today so it felt appropriate:

A sandwich filed for divorce from a block of wood

Forever Immobilized in Fleece

Some people want to be forever remembered or forever relevant.

I want to be forever lazy, and lucky me, there exists an outfit to help me reach my goal.

It is called Forever Lazy®. I had not known of its existence until this morning when I was watching TV. Before I had been too lazy to even turn the television on..I had to focus all my energy on lifting and lowering the spoon into a trough of ice cream.

This will be you. This will be all of us:

 

After the 20 minutes it took for the message to meander lazily to my brain, I learned that I could encase my entire body in breathable fleece. Wrestling with blankets to find the remote or cover all parts of my body would be a thing of the past, and I could focus my attention on zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Sorry I fell asleep for a second and my face landed on the “z” button.

I learned that the colors are “stylish” like gray and black. I learned that it came in all sizes from large to blue whale. I learned that I could keep my hands free for such activities as raiding the refrigerator of all Crisco and Heinz-balsamic-vinegar-ketchup products, looking up porn on the Internet and eating a Crisco-Heinz-balsamic-vinegar-ketchup sundae while watching downloaded porn.

I feel that this invention is up there with the printing press, lightbulb and Paris Hilton in terms of how it will revolutionize life as we know it. We are now this close (put your thumb and index finger about a tenth of an inch away. You can do this because your Forever Lazy® keeps your hands free. If you are too lazy to hold up your hand, try to get someone else to do it for you like maybe a parakeet or a baby) to being the humans in Wall-E. I tell you the only thing that gets me moving now is when I’m wrestling with a blanket over who wore an outfit better in the latest edition of US Weekly.

Once you move the refrigerator into the living room, there will never be another reason to get up off the couch ever.

Whoa, wait a sec there Speaker7. What about if I have to go number 1 or number 2 or really in my case number 8 because I just ate a case of Funyuns doused in Heinz balsamic vinegar ketchup?

Didn’t you watch the commercial?

Nah, I was too lazy to even read your blog. I’m having my trained baby parakeet type this for me.

Forever Lazy® has zippered hatches located in the front and back waste-voiding regions. Just unzip the hatch, slip an empty Funyun bag under the appropriate orifice and evacuate waste freely into it.

Order now and you can also get fleece footies, a neck pillow and bedsores!

My New Exclusive Best Friend

This is a momentous time.

I’m not talking about the return of “Where in the World is Matt Lauer,” a segment where Matt Lauer travels to five secret destinations and everyone or no one should care, take your pick. I pick no one.

I’m also not talking about the release of Clown Beck’s new book I Cry Therefore I Am: A Study of Adult Baby Syndrome. It sounded really good when he cried about it to Kathie Lee Gifford. “I’m much more than a cartoon character,” he cried cryingly.

Heinz is releasing a new ketchup, an exclusive ketchup only available to the billions of people who use Facebook. This is a big story. I heard about this on NPR this morning. I first had to check that NPR was still a news agency (it is) and then I realized that this was a momentous time hence the opening line of this post.

The new flavor is balsamic vinegar ketchup. You can obtain it by becoming its friend on Facebook.

I am very excited. I’ve never made friends with a ketchup before, let alone a famous ketchup. At first I thought I mustard misheard, but now I relish the opportunity.

I wonder what its status updates will be?

Maybe “I’m a ketchup! Just sayin.” or “I may be a ketchup, but even I don’t give a flying f*** about ‘Where in the World is Matt Lauer.’”

I cannot wait to find out.

I wonder if it will like the same bands as me or watch the same TV shows. I hope so because I don’t know what else we can talk about.

Will it laugh, if I put “Heinzee, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship” on its wall?

Will it get angry if I question why that watery crap always seems to come out first and ruin my hamburger?

Will it be a godketchup to the second child I’m pressured into having by work acquaintances?

Endless possibilities…people are already posting how excited they are on the original Heinz ketchup Facebook page. These people have incredibly fulfilling lives covered in generous amounts of tomato concentrate.

This is what the original Heinz ketchup has as its status update: “Pumpkins aren’t just for carving! This weekend enjoy our Pumpkin Spice Bars as a delicious treat while you put the finishing touches on your Halloween costumes.”

Pumpkin spice bars made out of ketchup sound wonderful…almost as wonderful as becoming friends with a bottle of ketchup.

Momentous times.

Puppet Show then Spinal Tap

Snooki wrote another book.

It is titled The Medium is the Massage: An Inventory of Effects.

That might be wrong.

Anyhoo, the Today show had an exclusive interview with Snookie née Nicole Polizzi about her new book. The female anchorbot then said something like:

“And in our studios, another intriguing woman Bette Midler.”

Yes Bette Midler is following Snooki. Bette Midler, who has been an entertainment fixture for decades. Yes Bette Midler who has an actual discernible talent, multi-talented in fact–she sings, she tells jokes, she acts–she is following a woman who took a dump in a potted plant.

But, wait! Maybe I’m being too judgmental. Maybe Snookie Monster has something meaningful to say….or expel from her bowels.

Let’s listen.

Magical.

“Whatchyoo been up to?” Matt Lauer inquires.

“Just busy with my book. . . and the downfall of civilization,” she answers.

“How would you say the Italians reacted to you,” Matt Lauer probes.

“They loved us. They would shout whatever the Italian word for ‘gonorrhea queen’ is,” Snooki answers. “I think I just peed on this chair.”

“Your book is called Confessions of a Guidette,” Matt Lauer begins. “When I was a kid, journalists actually interviewed people about newsworthy information or what I meant to say when I was growing up, calling someone a guido was not the nicest thing to say.”

“It’s not really a compliment, it’s a lifestyle” Snooki explains. “In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions, you can be a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal. Or a guidette.”

“Do we ever get to see the real you on this show,” Matt Lauer digs. “I think you even said reality TV is not normal life, it’s the most dysfunctional moments rolled into a ball–in your case a meatball. Do we ever get to see the real Nicole on TV.”

“I am what happens when a consumer capitalist society ships all its jobs oversees and produces nothing. People become product. The concept of ‘Snooki’ is something that sells, it has no grounding in any reality,” Snooki replies.

Or she might have said that Snooki is a party girl.

Matt Lauer asked other questions. Snooki answered them.

“What kind of guy do you like,” Matt says, smoothing down the seventh strand on his head.

“BURRRRPPPPPPP!” Snooki replies.

And next up is Bette Midler.

Hopefully she at least got the larger dressing room.

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

You know how you discuss your uterus at work?

Yeah, I didn’t think that happened. Unless you work in a gynecology office or in porn or for Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas (Aw snap! Clarence Thomas jokes are soooooo 1991. Better rinse off that Coke can).

But I talked about my uterus at work, or at least I answered questions about it. It seemed odd at the time…mainly because it is completely #$!%^*^!%$ odd.

Here’s what happened:

Another coworker is pregnant with her first child. Since I’m not a hoarder nor planning on having anymore children apart from the one, I am giving her a ton of my old baby items that my 19-month-old no longer uses. She is very grateful cuz that sh*t’s expensive and you use it for about 5 minutes. She is not the problem.

Before a work meeting began, I let her know that I had some bottles, a sterilizer and a feeding chair in my car.

Won’t you need those for your second child?  asks someone else very appropriately since my childbearing decisions clearly affect her and I was including her in the conversation by not addressing her in the slightest. Uh…no, I answer. This is a really good time to have a second child.

At this point, I am really enjoying the direction this conversation is headed…probably in the same way single people enjoy being asked when they will get married, childless married couples when they will have children and the elderly when they will die.

Oh, I’m just having the one, I breezily say and continue my conversation with my pregnant friend.

You can’t let your son be an only child, chimes in another coworker.

Um….I can’t do what now?

He’ll be lonely.

Yes, my daughter and son are best friends, says the other.

Have I suddenly become a character in an after-school special about peer pressure? Hey man, everyone’s having second babies. You don’t wanna be a loser, dawg.

That’s sweet. My brother used to kick me so hard, he’d knocked the wind out of me. I’m good with the one.

It’s really much easier with the second one. You don’t even notice it.

Really? I don’t really notice another human being completely and utterly dependent upon me for his or her survival? Alright then, let’s get with the babymaking.

There are many reasons why I’m only having one child. These are reasons that I’m not completely comfortable discussing with people I work with but barely know at all..especially at the start of a work meeting.

Since these questions will likely continue until I reach a certain age, I need to come up with a better response than “uhhhhhhhh.”

Here are my ideas for possible responses (please let me know your fav in the comments section):

1. I would LOVE to have another baby!!!! With your husband! And you videotaping it!

2. Your question just gave me menopause.

3.  It’s weird. After the first baby, my uterus packed its suitcase and up and left without even leaving a note.

4. The satanic cult said they only needed the one.

5. I suffer from adult baby syndrome. My doctor said I would need to give birth to an adult to take care of me.

6. Oh, so you want to know about my husband and my lovemaking sessions? Great! I’ve been waiting to tell you about them for like, ever. First we light all of our Paula Deen Crisco-scented candles until our living room smells like the midway at a state fair. Then my husband lets the gimp and monkey out of the cellar. While the gimp teaches the monkey to whistle Nelly’s “It’s Getting Hot in Here,” my husband begins to cut pieces of his clothing off and stuff them into his mouth. By this point I’m done eating the peanut butter sandwich I’ve made in the kitchen and become part of the quartet as the monkey begins spinning like a whirling dervish….wait, where are you going?

7. Oh see the psychic told me my next child would ask completely inappropriate personal questions of work acquaintances and I didn’t want to inflict that on anyone.

What all Women Wish For

I’m going to talk about the Genie Bra™.

The Genie Bra™ is what all women wish for. If I talk about the Genie Bra™ then I won’t have to think about Paranormal Activity 3 and my intention to write about my inability to watch horror films.

Is this you? (Try to envision a woman vigorously yanking on bra straps) Do you feel like you’re in a constant battle with willful bra straps that won’t do what they’re told? I swear every time that g-ddamn Paranormal Activity 3 trailer comes on, I can never find the g-ddamn remote and I have to see those little girls say “Bloody Mary” three times in the mirror. You can write Bloody Mary without getting into trouble, correct? Typing Blood Mary into a screened device is not the same as saying it three times into a mirror. I guess you just have to be careful not to write it three times. . . aw sh*t.

Does your underwire cut into your skin? (try to envision a woman jabbing her bra fasteners into her back several times) I really don’t know what my problem is. I am an extremely rational person and don’t normally give into hysterics even when my bra’s underwire is slicing into my skin, but when I watch a horror movie, I am convinced I will bring that horror upon myself. I placed all my stuffed animals on a window seat by the stair landing to protect me from the vampires in Salem’s Lot. I spent most of my childhood sleeping on a single mattress on the floor of my parent’s bedroom after I thought watching Amityville 2 would be a good idea. This would happen again and again after watching countless horror movies I clearly could not handle. In fact the last time I slept on my parent’s floor, I was 26. They were so proud.

Does this look like you? (Envision a woman in a red turtleneck with what looks like two sea urchins under her shirt) I actually read the Wikipedia entry on Paranormal Activity 3 to prepare for this blog post, and I clicked the links for the plot summaries for the first two. So now I know what these movies are about without actually having seen them. This was insanity on my part. Everything’s fine now because it’s a nice, sunny Sunday afternoon. But it will soon be night. I will go to bed before my husband because he is a night owl, and I will be convinced the closet door will open on its own and some evil spirit will beckon to me. One night after inadvertently catching the entire trailer, I must have turned on my bedroom light 405 times to “investigate” the “noise” I just heard.

Isn’t it time you stopped your daily struggle with uncomfortable bras that prevent you from looking your best? (Envision a woman twisting and tugging at her bra as if she’s trying shake important information out of it) “There’s got to be another way,” says one uncomfortable-bra-ed woman. I can’t tell you how many times I have woken up in the middle of a piercing scream. It is very unsettling for the people who live in the same house. I think what bothers me most is many of these movies aren’t even very good, but yet they stick into my subconscious like a sea urchin to a turtleneck. I wish I could get my hands on some type of wish-granting device like a Genie Bra™ to wish my fear away because there’s got to be another way.

Oh, here’s what the Genie Bra™ looks like:

Now only 3 easy payments of $19.99!!

 

 

The World Ends Today

I don’t really know the point of working on this post since the world is ending today. There’s a 67 percent chance the world will end before I even finish this sentence.

Should I even bother with a drawing? It takes actually drawing something and then scanning it and then putting it in photoshop then uploading it. The world could end during any of these steps.

I’m going to put this instead:

This is Donald Trump with Rick Perry’s hair. I didn’t know how to work it into my last post. Since the world is ending I figured I should use it now.

I would also like to show this:

This is Rick Perry with Donald Trump's hair. I also saw no way to use it in the last post. Now here it is for you to enjoy on your last day on earth.

Whew…I now feel like I wrapped up everything that I should have. . . although I probably should have tried to snag at least one Reese peanut butter cup from the king-size pack before my husband ate them all. It would have been nice to explode or whatever happens during end times with the taste of chocolatey peanut butter in my mouth.

You might be asking (if you have time to ask because the world could end now. Or now. Or right now. ….oorrrrrrr now) how do I know the world is ending? The Today show told me.

It seem appropriate that I would write my last post about the Today show since most of my posts are about the Today show. We had a good run, my friend. I loved all those times you sucked.

The female anchorbots who all look alike had a story about Harold Camping. He’s a 90-year-old preacher who likes to predict Armageddon. He has done it three times, the most recent being today. He said the end would come very quietly.

That’s nice.

I would be disappointed if the end turned out to be just like a terrible Michael Bay movie.

The female anchorbots laughed and laughed about this. They made “funny” “jokes” like:

“If I go out of focus, you’ll know my cameraman’s  just been raptured”

and

“I hope his track record continues”

Bwhahahahahahahahaha! Funny stuff, except aren’t you the very ones giving this giant goofball attention? He could say his crazy predictions on his little radio station, and his listeners could cash in their 401ks to buy big boxes of wine and that would be that. But you have given this story national significance. . . so now I think Harry Camping may have a point.

Especially since later in the show,  you spotlighted the most popular Halloween costumes. The most popular are the “Charlie Sheen” complete with a bottle of tiger’s blood and the “Anthony Weiner” complete with a giant prosthetic penis.

If that doesn’t foreshadow the end times, I don’t know what does….

He Brings A Lot of People

I have mentioned before how I’m not really up on politics, preferring to get my political news from the inside of Snapple bottle caps:

Real Fact #902: Barbie’s full name is Barbara Millicent Roberts.

What the Snapple bottle cap failed to tell me is that someone cares what Donald Trump thinks about the 25 assorted Garbage Pail Kids seeking the GOP nomination for president.

That someone is Matt Lauer.

"Check this out. 'You're fired!'"

The GOP hopefuls have been seeking an audience with Donald.

“When you sit down with these people what do they want?” Matt probes with his finger.  “Do they want your money, do they want your megaphone, do they want your stamp of approval, do they want to be the next Miss Universe, do they want the cell phone number of your hairstylist?”

"Tell me, how natural does my hair look?"

They want his endorsement, Trump explains. And he believes the reason is because “I bring a lot of people.”

To lunch?

To bankruptcy proceedings?

He doesn’t elaborate.

Matt probes deeper.

"I think your hair looks very natural."

Do you want to be the king of the world or something to that effect, Matt asks.

Trump wants to make this country great again, he says. He wants to bring it back to the  time when Bret Michaels sang “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” on Celebrity Apprentice. I have never seen Celebrity Apprentice, but considering Bret Michaels has sung it on every other reality show, I feel safe in saying this is what Donald Trump is talking about.

The interview continues with Matt Lauer asking for Donald Trump’s take on the various candidates, and this is about as meaningful to me as if Matt Lauer interviewed a wadded up piece of paper about the state of affairs.

In fact that would be preferable.

"I bring a lot of paper"

Matt Lauer decides to get real with Donald Trump saying “You are never shy about expressing an opinion so I want you to express a heartfelt opinion right now.”

I wipe a tear running down my face with a wadded up piece of paper in a bad toupee.

“You talk about the country as not being great anymore and it needs to return to its greatness. Of the candidates you see out there, which one is most likely to return this country to greatness.”

I personally would rather hear heartfelt opinions from the following:

A dog.

A plunger.

A wad of gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe.

An actual turd.

The turd says he doesn’t want to say, he can’t say who he will endorse because it would not be fair to the other candidates.

Oh, I’m sorry…that’s how Donald Trump answered. I just got him mixed up with a turd.

Real Fact #903: That happens a lot.

Ghost Fatigue

I love watching Man V. Food on the Travel Channel. I don’t know why I find a man scarfing down an entire cow interesting, but I do. Maybe it reminds me of the time I ate 48 popsicles in one sitting. Never, ever do that.

My love of Man V. Food is how I happened to watch a show called Ghost Adventures, which has neither ghosts nor adventures. A more apt name would be Three Guys Who Have the Worst Personalities Shout Things in Darkened Rooms While Being Filmed With Night Vision Cameras.

I would feel immense pleasure watching Adam Richman devour all three in a douchebag-eating challenge.

The main host Zac Bagan, or DoucheBag-an as he will now be known, is paid to terrorize people who work at tourist attractions so they can afford to put food on their families. He and his crew of amateur wrestlers will stage a lockdown in the La Casa de Estudillo and the Cosmopolitan Hotel, two historic sites that likely need tourism dollars during these tough economic times so they have been forced to open their doors to three men who will basically take a giant dump on the culture and heritage by the things they say and do.

Let’s begin…excuse me, I’ll let DoucheBag-an set the mood:

“Hey, let’s join the party,” he drawls.

The site’s founder, a Mr. Bandini, loved to party, man. A tour director takes DoucheBag-an and the funky bunch through La Casa de Estudillo. He mocks the way she says “cattle” several times, and it makes me wish the evil spirits from the movie Ghost would rise up out of the sewer grates and drag DoucheBag-an away.  But alas, no. She shows him the garden. “That plant has a penis,” says DoucheBag-an, which illustrates the main distinction between the plant and himself.

Lockdown time. They bring imaging cameras and digital recorders. They try to engage the spirits with scintillating conversation:

“Is this where you would sit and talk?”

They decide to split up. DouchBag-an has a thermasound device scanning the room. He explains that it will be able to detect anything with enough substance, which is why it is unable to detect his presence. He sets a digital recorder in an object he describes as “something magical,” which looks like a bowl of pot pourri.

“Is somebody here? Are you trying to talk to me,” he shouts into the darkness.

The entire spirit world yells back: “F*** no.”

DoucheBag-an says it sounds like a female is making a statement about him. The voice on the digital recorder says “I see a douche.”

More digital recordings are made, which sound mainly like “Shhhhhhhhhhhhh,” but are translated by the crack spiritual team into statements like “I want you to pray.”

The lock down at La Casa de Estudillo finished, the crew heads to the Cosmopolitan Hotel. DoucheBag-an explains they will recreate the parties from Bandini’s day. Three dancers stomp around while a guitarist strums.

DoucheBag-an occasionally stops the “action” to see if any spiritual activity can be detected. He bellows “Alto!” but does not use the Spanish word for “Start” which may be confusing to the many spirits who wish to join the worst party in the history of the world.

He claims a camera detected unexplained lights at one point. The unexplained lights look like the rear car lights of tourists who have suddenly realized who else is staying at the hotel.

The trio split up again to the “haunted” rooms. DoucheBag-an heads to a room with furniture carved by a father who lost his daughter. The daughter is said to haunt the furniture. DoucheBag-an needs to determine if it’s an intelligent haunting or, like him, a non-intelligent version.

It is riveting. . . if you believe riveting means the opposite of what it means:

 

 

Deep Dark Sex Secrets 1 through 1,890

My life is full of regrets.

I was thinking how much I do not want to be on a bed of death, lamenting all the things I should have done, but didn’t.

I had not seen Maury Povich’s eponymous show since Vicki slept with her sister’s boyfriend Jamal and Jamal’s brother Dominque and posed this simple question:  Is my sister’s boyfriend or his brother my baby’s dad?

I never did find out the answer to that question.

Regret.

Speaker7's last words

Speaker7 dies

Today’s Maury did not pose a question, but a statement of fact: “The tests will uncover your deep dark sex secret.” I would get my answers today…well, not to Vicki’s dilemma–that will forever haunt me–but the answers to some of life’s greatest mysteries.

Deep Dark Sex Secret #1: (editor’s note: this actually could be deep dark sex secret #17 or #1,825 because Speaker7 missed the first six minutes of the show. Regret.)

“She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene. . . but the kid is not my (daughter)”

Kristina has two children with her husband David, but David doesn’t believe he’s the father of Chantilly because he thinks Kristina cheated on him with her ex-husband Tony.

Kristina is angry. David thinks she’s a cheater. They both tell their stories in a very natural non-reading-cue-card-like kind of way.

I chew my fingernails down to the knuckles……Maury pulls up the flap on his endless supply of manila envelopes….I reach up to wipe the sweat pouring from my forehead…

“In the case of Chantilly,” Maury intones. “David you are the father.”

I black out.

When I come to, I learn there are more deep-dark-sex-secret uncovering to uncover.

Deep Dark Sex Secret #2: Electric Boogaloo

A one-night stand turned into one DNA dispute.

Maria had sex with Andrew one time. Maria screams everything she says as if she is trying to make herself heard over a sandblaster. She screams at the audience to “LOOK AT MY BABY!!!!! LOOK AT MY GIRL!!!!” She screams at Andrew “I HOPE YOUR PENIS FALLS OFF!!!!!!!!”

Maury pulls out the envelope. I get into a fetal position next to the couch.

“In the case of Drucilla,” Maury intones. “Andrew you are NOT the father.”

I began to convulse as a thin trickle of urine puddles next to my twitching body.

I wonder if my system can take anymore deep-dark-sex-secret uncovering when Maury cuts directly to the next story after Maria ran backstage screaming “I’M SORRY!!!!!”

Deep Dark Sex Secret #3: Revenge of the Sith

I change my outfit and swallow four Xanax. I go to my happy place in my head as Maury introduces April. April thinks her fiance Walt and her cousin Laureen are having “sex on each other.” She has seen “sex stains” on Walt’s boxers although Walt claims they were just from an accident. Lovely, lovely love.

Maury has the lie detector results. Before he can intone them, my heart seizes in my chest. I can feel a blood vessel explode inside my head. I flop off the couch onto the floor.

I believe I died a few seconds before being revived by Maury’s clear delivery that Walt is a liar. The boxer stains were sex stains after all.

Incredible, riveting storytelling.

My only regret is that I didn’t DVR it.

Regret.