China Awaits Crowning of First Miss Artificial Beauty
Mood:  surprised
Now Playing: David Bowie Changes
There are times when you think you have heard it all and then you realize that you are wrong...so very, very wrong.

China will soon host the finals of the country's first beauty contest in which every contestant has undergone extensive plastic surgery.

Yep. Twenty "man-made" beauties will flaunt their surgical procedures in the desperate hope of taking home the country's first Miss Artificial Beauty crown.

Pageant organizers apparently dreamed up the event after one woman attempted to sue them for banning her from the finals of a traditional beauty contest in May due to her numerous plastic surgeries.

Jeez! If the USA held a Miss Plastic Surgery pageant they wouldn't be able to find a venue large enough to hold all of the contestants! I just can't see it though can you? "Here she is...Miss Artificial Beauty..." doesn't have the same ring...

UK Group Warns Christmas Parties Can Damage Your Health
Mood:  party time!
Now Playing: Jimi Hendrix
Britain's Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents (RoSPA) is warning office workers that Christmas parties can damage their health.

My first thought was "Oh, joy, office Christmas parties cause cancer" but I was wrong as office parties apparently still are one of the few things that do not currently cause cancer, but hey, that could change.

Recently, RoSPA joined English trade unions in issuing workers guidelines to follow for a safe and accident free office celebration. Now where's the fun in that? Nothing says successful office party like someone losing an eye...or two.

The message from RoSPA is basically: resist the temptations presented at office parties as most of them are just misbegotten attempts to amuse coworkers. Well no duh! Why the hell else would someone...oh wait, alcohol. Nevermind.

"Dancing on desks could do them and you a lot of damage," they said. "Likewise, the boardroom table is meant for weighty documents, not overweight executives." Hey now, that's getting personal...and it's just plain mean! That Ethiopian VP of sales is positively slender...

They also warn that the urge to photocopy body parts may result in disaster if the copier plate breaks and the wanna be copy-ee gets glass in "uncomfortable places". Uncomfortable places? Can they be more specific? Is that in your arse? In your twipee? In your tonsils? Where? I would hazard to guess that would depend on what body part(s) you and those assisting you were trying to copy. Apparently it is just issued as a general safety warning.

According to RoSPA candles, flaming Christmas puddings (and what the holy hell are those anyway?!) and cigarettes also should be avoided at all costs. Is it just me or doesn't something named `Flaming Christmas Pudding' sound like an item to be avoided without well intentioned advice being given? They also suggest that stepladders, not swivel chairs, should be used to hang tinsel and mistletoe, which of course should not be hung near sources of heat. Are these guys full on party poopers or what? Where is the sport in that? You have to admit, it's just not a holiday party (to use the PC term) unless something or someone catches fire...if only briefly.

They also recommend keeping a close eye on those who may drink too much as alcohol makes some people aggressive rather than friendly. No! Oh that's a shocker--a mean drunk? Say it isn't so...is that drunk/aggressive/mean like Dan Akaroyd in Trading Places hiding a smoked salmon filet in his shirt or drunk/aggressive/mean like Billy Bob Thornton in The Bad Santa kicking the midget elf in the balls?

While some would call them killjoys or losers with no sense of fun, RoSPA claims they are only trying to help.

Leave it up to the Brits to take the fun out of everything...

Art of the Dump
Mood:  special
Now Playing: Queensryche-Silent Lucidity
Every once in a while, if we are lucky, each of us experiences a perfect dump. While it's rare, it's a thing of beauty if it occurs. You sit down and what you get is a smooth sliding, masterpiece that breaks the water with the splashless grace of an Olympic diver. It makes you feel that not only is all right with the world, you are in perfect harmony with it.

Then there are the less than lovely or perfect dumps. These are the ones most of live with on a regular basis.

The Beer -- Talk about nasty dumps. Depending on your tolerance, the beer dump is the end result of too many beers. It could have been 2 or 22, but it doesn't fricking matter. What you get is a sinister, lengthy, noisy dump accompanied by a malevolent fog that could close a bathroom or a satellite airport for days...AKA For God's Sake, Light a Match.

The Chili or Hot Wings -- Dead Parrot Hot when it goes in and rocket fuel when it leaves. This dump stays with you all day making your tush feel like a heat shield.

The Cable -- Long, curly and perfectly formed like 2 feet of Coaxial cable, it loops lazily around the bowl. You wonder admiringly, ''WOW! DID I DO THAT? Where did it come from?'' you leave the bathroom rather pleased with yourself in a sick if not amusing way.

The Splash-Back -- It drops like a depth charge into the bowl creating a column of cold water that splashes back, washing your bottom with a startlingly unpleasant shock.

The Independence Day -- A rare variation of the Splash-Back. This is where the column of water from the splash back actually smacks right into your puckered starfish (AKA the leather Cheerio) and back up the poop chute. The chances of this happening are about a gazillion-to-one, much like those of Randy Quaid's drunken crop duster character flying a fighter jet into an alien spacecraft and dropping a nuclear warhead thus saving the world in the movie Independence Day, hence the name...

The Childbirth -- This is a dump that is simply too big to go through the aperture provided by nature for the purpose. You sit there, thinking over your dilemma. It hurts, and it isn't going to get any better. You wonder if you'll ever see your loved ones again. You imagine the newspaper headlines screaming "Local resident dies trying to hatch monster loaf.'' You realize that you'll have to resolve the crisis and basically there are only three things you can do: scream, call an Obstetrician, or just hope like hell that your nutpick is going to reach.

The Tijuana -- The phrase ''Shit Happens'' really applies here in a big way. When the ice in your bacteria tainted margarita makes contact with your lower intestinal tract, let the fun begin! For the next 72 hours you will spend most of the time on the pot and the rest of the time in a fetal position on the cool bathroom floor as you realize why Mexico never had a navy.

The Machine Gun -- You're just sitting there in a state of sublime peace, minding your own business and perusing the latest edition of Razor when all of a sudden you emit a group of noisy staccato gas bursts that break the silence like machine gun fire. The guy in the next stall hits the floor grasping his umbrella like an M16 and shrieking something about "damn Nips."

The Sound Effect - Your gut is rumbling and you feel a noisy one coming on. Relatives, friends, work mates or small animals are within earshot, so you must employ some clever techniques to cover the disgusting sounds you are about to emit. Timing is obviously very important here. At the precise moment of release, try the following sound effects: flush the toilet, sing the first two stanzas of the national anthem or your favorite show tune (I suggest anything from Annie Get Your Gun) , or drop a handful of change on the floor (or a bagful of quarters).

The Houdini -- You go, then you stand up to flush, and the darn thing has disappeared. Where'd it go? Did it creep down the pipe? Did you dream the whole thing? Is it lurking out of sight? Should you wipe...maybe you should just to make sure you went. Should you flush? You'd better, because if you don't, you know it will reappear and smile at the next person who comes in much like Mr. Hankie.

The Whole Roll -- No matter how much you wipe, it doesn't seem to be enough. You blow the whole roll and you have to flush 25 times too. You wonder if you hit a deer...The whole episode is consumer waste.

The Encore Dump -- Ahhhh, you're done, so you pull yourself together, wash your hands and are about to vacate the bathroom when you feel another dump coming. You have to return for a curtain call. The world's record is seven encores-one more than a Styxx concert.

The Born Again -- This is a dump that's going so badly, you start making deals with God to get you through it. You say things like "Oh Lord, if I live through this, I'll do anything." You always get through it, but seldom keep the promise you made in desperation, because a born again dump is like childbirth... you forget the pain quickly.

A Condom by Any Other Name...
Mood:  cool
Now Playing: The Killers
So apparently, South Korea has put plans on ice to replace the English word for `condom' with a Korean word after a string of complaints from people with identical or similar sounding names.

Originally, I was shocked as I had no idea that `condom' was not a Korean word... Anyway, that point being made, I found out that the suggested Korean replacement word was "ae-pil," derived from the Chinese characters for love and necessity. (Makes sense but jeesh, how literal can you get...)

Ae pil was actually picked from over 19,000 suggestions sent in by the public that included "Soul Mate Sheath (동조자 담보), In Safe Hands (에 저장실 손대다), To Protect The Sacred Scrotum (막다 신성하다 음낭) and I am just kidding (막 유머)...No really, I am just kidding about the other three...but those are their Korean translations.

The new name has prompted complaints from many South Koreans who have similar-sounding characters in their names hence why everyone should just stick with a regular alphabet, Cyrillic or otherwise. One old lady even called to the Public Health Department to complain, saying she was worried about her grandson being teased due to her name being 'condom." I can see it now--"Hey, your grandmother's a condom...na, na, na, na, na,na...You're Sum Young Condom...

It would seem that South Korea, much like Brazil, doesn't have enough to worry about with the current economic and other socio-political issues on their hands...

IT BE CHRISTMAS! AKA the Closest Thing You Will See to the Dreaded Christmas Letter...
Mood:  happy
Now Playing: Buena Vista Social Club
As I said above, this is the closest you are going to get to a Christmas letter this year. Just not enough interesting stuff that I can share publically without either offending someone, making my mother cry or confessing to several unsolved crimes. So, I am only sending out cards with cleverly (hopefully) worded bits in them to those deserving folks on my extensive list...although I did consider enclosing a nude photo figuring people are always in wont of Yuletide amateur porn but as usual, I digress... Please do not flood me with requests for said naked photo as that was SO the Christmas card of 2000.

Whew! What a year! I can't believe we are skidding into 2005 already! Nothing like a rollercoaster ride to keep one on her toes or in the liquor cabinet...

Now that I have the house thoroughly decked out to resemble Santa's whorehouse in honor of Christmas (I LOVE CHRISTMAS!!!), I am going to pour myself a glass of 100 proof gut rot eggnog and fill you in on my year. (Yes, I will skim over the bad bits as no one ever wants to hear them anyway and can you really blame them?).

To be honest, most of the year was a blur. (Since I haven't won the Powerball yet, all my days seem the same) I have taken up a rather odd nomadic existence in the last few years as I seem unable to put down permanent roots in Arizona. In March, I moved for the 3rd time in 2 years (yes, I must be masochistic). I love the new place. I have wonderful views of South Mountain as well as city lights. The animals all have room to roam and the dogs do so enjoy barking incessantly at the neighbors and anything that remotely looks like it deserves to be barked at.

In February, I added to my rescued menagerie. I found a puppy who, to be PC, would ride the short bus if he were human. Chopper, AKA Porkchop, AKA Bounder, AKA Chocolate Thunder, AKA Retardo Montalban has added much silliness to the mix and Molson and Max deserve marble, or at the very least, granite, monuments for tolerating the insanity that is the 36lb idiotic muscle butt. The cats are less tolerant of the hyperactive nutball that likes to carry them around by their heads, but then again, they are cats.

A few months ago, I started this blog at the urging of longtime friend Deb. Needless to say, it has been hours of fun ranting and has probably kept me from being arrested at least once...or twice...or so I keep telling myself. It has given me a forum to put down the random thoughts in my head and to make me realize that man do I have really random thoughts! Surprisingly, I have had tons of visitors to my websites, so apparently there are other freaks of nature out there who enjoy arbitrary brain sniglets. Or perhaps they were just sympathy visits...

I have spent the last several months getting my life back in order. It's amazing that just when you are happily meandering down the path you have chosen, something drastically changes and POOF! You get smacked the `high hard one' to quote my friend Darrin and you find yourself back at square one in the game of life. (The best part about that game is when you get to take your carloads of children and sell them off at the end). As always, in the words of Gloria Gainer (as opposed to Steinham) "I will survive, hey, hey". (How was that for keeping the bad bits short? Uh-huh!)

The clan is coming to my place for Christmas this year! Wahoo! I have gone totally overboard as this is my first `real' Christmas in 2 years (2 years ago I had the spirit but not the room and last year I had the room but not the spirit). My house basically looks like Christmas threw up. I planned poorly for the tree, by falling in love with an enormous Douglas Fir (much to my surprise as I am usually a Noble girl). Nothing like wrassling the tree into the house only to realize it is about a foot taller than the ceiling. Needless to say, that is not the time to find that your handsaw is AWOL. I have to admit though, the bread knife did a remarkable job filling in and I didn't even cut myself--which is a miracle in, and of, itself.

I am looking forward to a week's vacation in Santa Fe with my sister over New Years at the new and completely amazing pad. A week filled with Frito pies and snowboarding...as well as alot of time spent in the house's steam room and the Jacuzzi that looks out over the city--WAHOO! Look for pictures of the vacation madness on Meg-O-Rama after the first of the year.

I hope that this year brought you and yours much love, laughter and happiness. If it didn't, then best wishes for 2005...and hopefully a winning Powerball ticket!

What is it About Public Restrooms?
Mood:  not sure
Now Playing: Oh Brother, Where Art Thou soundtrack
Nothing brings home people's inhumanity to each other more than a trip to a public restroom.

What is it about a public restroom that makes people completely forget any kind of common courtesy? I can understand callous and brutal conduct at a Prada shoe sale but the total lack of consideration for others illustrated in public restrooms is unbelievable!

I know standing in line for the restroom can take forever but it's part of the `woman package': you have breasts, you have to wait longer for things but you also get most of your drinks for free. Seems like a pretty fair trade to me. But, once you have made it into the bathroom remember your poor sisters who are still waiting their turn. This is not the time for a full makeover. Try to make like Speedy Gonzalez (you know, pee quickly, wash your hands and return to the table ruining everyone's chance to talk about you behind your back). If I am outside the bathroom door, banging on it and contributing helpful encouragement like "Are you f@cking done yet?" or "What, did you hit a water buffalo?" you are spending WAY too much time in there to the detriment of your waiting sisters. What have you done in there anyway that requires a complete makeover? Or maybe I don't want to know...

There are two major evils one can encounter when visiting a women's restroom. I still haven't figured out which is worse. First is going into the stall after a sloppy Sally chick, who makes an art of squatting rather than sitting on a public toilet and proceeds to urinate all over the seat, has been in there before you. (As punishment, these women should be forced to sit bare ass on said toilet seat after last call in a college bar. That'd teach `em!) Then you have those chicks who think their asses are so precious that they cannot touch common porcelain and use a toilet `donut'. I'm all for using a toilet donut but for God's sake if you use one, be courteous and DISPOSE OF IT!!!! Do not walk out of the stall and leave it there on the seat like an advertising hand bill on the windshield of your car! Trust me it will not fly away on its own! Punishment for a non-flush of the toilet donut should be to have to wear one around your neck like a collar for the rest of the evening!

And have you ever noticed that if you excuse yourself from the table with the "powder my nose" or other bathroom euphemism, that it seems every woman within hearing distance will announce her intention to join you? What is up with that? Why is it that such a personal and solitary experience tends to develop into a social pack situation? I know I have the ability to get to the bathroom and back to the table safely without a sherpa guide...or ten.

And why do we feel it's necessary to say where we are going? If you get up from the table, just excuse yourself and be done with it-no bathroom euphemisms are necessary for clarification. I mean really, where the hell else would you be going? Excuse me I'm off to a poetry slam?

When all is said and done, I despise public restrooms so much that I have actually considered having myself catheterized in order to avoid visiting these dens of nastiness.

Crusty Scalp Costs U.K. Criminal His Freedom
Mood:  d'oh
Now Playing: D12
Isn't it hateful when a dry scalp condition costs you your freedom? (I know I hate when that happens) Who would have thought when DNA technology first started being used to profile suspects that someone's flaky head rubbish could be used against him in a court of law?

Recently in London a career criminal received the longest prison sentence of his lengthy illegal profession after being caught because of the dandruff he shed at the scene of an armed robbery.

Using a DNA profiling method, investigators identified Andrew Pearson as a suspect by examining 25 flakes of dandruff found in a stocking he had worn as a mask during the robbery 11 years ago.

25 flakes. Unless the dandruff flecks were cracking off his head in slabs similar to those under the earth's crust, that's not a lot of evidence. It was, however, enough for police to obtain a DNA profile and match it to a swab of his saliva.

Makes one rethink spending the $3 for a bottle of Head and Shoulders doesn't it?

'That Guy' - the Office Skeeve
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: Depression Blues
Do you ever notice how everywhere you work there is always `that guy'. You know `that guy' who doesn't understand boundaries. The one guy who just takes comments one step way too far.

We all know that sexual harassment exists in the work place. The problem is that most of us are guilty of it. I know I am. In fact, I think you would be hard pressed to find an office where the majority of people working there haven't shared an off color and inappropriate email, particularly a sexual one, with a co-worker of the opposite sex. I particularly enjoyed the one about the streaking, skate-by farter, but I digress...

Anywho, the point is zero tolerance or not, inappropriate behavior occurs `cuz as we all know, shit happens. The difference in your reaction-what you will tolerate and even find heartily amusing versus what you feel is inappropriate and offensive- depends on your relationship with the person who is bandying about the innuendo.

Point in case, `that guy' is walking by the office of a female co-worker and stops quickly in the doorway. The female co-worker, who we'll call Saffron `cuz I just like that name as a pseudonym (I'm just mad about Saffron...), is sitting at her desk eating a banana when `that guy' says, "Oh, Saffron - would you mind terribly if I just stood in your doorway and watched you eat your breakfast?"

Now if Burt the office clown had said that, Saffron would have laughed and said "Sure, but it will cost you extra" as she viciously bit the end off of the banana. The problem was it wasn't Burt who said it. It was `that guy'. The grodie older guy who tells everyone how much he can't stand his wife and is only staying for his kid. The one who gives you the heebie jeebies when he looks at you and licks his lips, because you know what he's thinking about your ass and you wonder if he's utilizing that image late at night while he clenches his king size bottle of Astroglide. `That guy'.

What a total skeeve! What was she supposed to say? "Oh yeah, that'd be a thrill!"? or "Sure and remember, my next show's at 3pm." She actually was so floored that she could only stammer out "Uh, yes!"

I wish Saffron had been able to take a moment to form a better retort. Several come to my mind. "Oh yeah, I'd enjoy that about as much as a bleach enema!" or "Only if you invite your wife to watch with you!"

My favorite response however would have been for her to just pick up a pad of paper and start writing and when he asked what she was doing say, "I'm adding this to my documentation for my sexual harassment suit against you."

Maybe that would shut `that guy' up...

It all just begs the question why does there always have to be a `that guy' office skeeve?

Dirty New Crime Grips Alabama
Mood:  a-ok
Now Playing: Santana
According the A/P Wire, a new crime has reared its stinky head in southeast Alabama: Port-A-Potty tipping. Apparently, some rat bastard has been overturning portable toilets at construction sites in the Dothan area and several building companies have complained about the `foul' crime.

The local police captain, John Givens, said that the firms were very upset about the incidents and they "wanted this shit to stop". Okay, he didn't really say that, he said they wanted "it to stop", but you have to admit, the phrasing worked.

Anyone caught vandalizing a portable toilet will be charged with criminal mischief, a misdemeanor. Big whoop. Personally, I think they should put the perpetrator in a portable toilet and tip it with him inside. I guarantee that the crap would stop.

A Tale From the Past...The Bitch Had it Coming
Mood:  mischievious
Now Playing: The Specials
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...ok, not really, but ripping off part of the intro to Star Wars definitely was a better start than what I might have come up with in light of the fact that I have had 3 banana mudslides (UGH!). Nothing like wasting my time on 6% alcohol by volume...but anywho. As I said, a long, long time ago...blah., blah, blah...basically, back in college, there was a perfect surfer girl named Anne. (Yes, with an `e'--trust me, she would have reminded you).

All the guys had hard ons for this girl. And who could blame them? She was like an Ambercrombie & Fitch catalog girl before there was such a thing. She would toss her perfect windswept blond hair and flash her perfect white teeth while wearing her blue board shorts and guys would drop at her feet like grunion during a spawning run. It was nauseating and alternately fascinating, to say the least. Especially for those of us who grew up in Arizona and had always yearned for the beach.

But, as things would have it, the perfect Anne was not so perfect. She had all of the issues that all girls, even the non-perfect ones, have--especially jealousy. She particularly disliked one girl--Deb. Deb was the consummate `All American' girl. The chick you would have seen on a Breck bottle, if that tradition had carried on into the 80s. I can understand Anne's issue. If I hadn't have gotten to know Deb over several beers and numerous smokes at a tedious frat party, I would have hated her too. In fact, I did for a while, but I digress...

Anne was threatened by Deb, which it turned out, was kind of amusing to the rather shy and low-key Deb. Deb was good friends with a very hot, very rich, Ferrari-driving gay boy we'll call `Josh'. Josh adored Deb--her acumen for style, her blazing white teeth, her ability to bargain shop Gucci. The next thing we knew-BAM! Anne was all over Josh. Every time we saw Anne she would go on and on about Josh and how much he adored her and how much she adored him. Every time he came to the sorority house to visit, she would waylay him and hang all over him. Deb and I just chuckled assuming that her `gaydar' was broken or perhaps she thought she could change him...finally, she caught the drift when she tried to get naked with Josh and all he could say was "Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww".

Time passed and Anne just became nastier and nastier. Apparently, she read somewhere that being head bitch is better than just being and she was a quick study. The pinnacle of her self-imposed reign came to an end one night during our sorority's end-all, be-all party that every guy on campus wanted to go to. Deb was set up on a blind date with a surfer dude Tau Kappa Epsilon (TKE) named Moss (a nickname I'm sure) who kept going on and on about "Righteous dude! Far out! Whoa!" while tossing back enough Yukon Jack to fuel a 100 man search party during a blizzard in Yellowstone.

Enter Anne--on the prowl and only interested in Deb's Spiccolli ding-dong TKE date. She kept openly flirting with him in front of Deb. Telling Deb over and over how hot she thought he was. Eventually, she walked up to Deb and told her "I'm going to mash with your date." To which Deb replied "Have at--he's yours" as Anne starting eagerly macking on the drunken Moss man.

Deb & I high fived as we walked back to the main party to find another Padron shot. See, we knew that Moss had just yakked up enough barbeque to clog the toilet in the men's bathroom, but hey, who are we to stand in the way of young love?

Yeah, the bitch had it coming.

Was the 'Yute' Vote Really Rocked?
Mood:  d'oh
Now Playing: All That Remains
This year, thousands upon thousands of hours and countless millions of dollars were spent on youth-oriented Get Out the Vote programs across America. You literally couldn't spit without hitting someone's. There was one by MTV, Declare Yourself, Just Vote, Democracy for America, One Vote and who can forget the P. Diddy Sean Puff Daddy Combs, et al, effort: Vote or Die. Interesting marketing tact that one. Is that vote or I will have you killed like I did Biggy Smalls and Tupac? But I digress...

Everyone, especially the media, kept going on and on about how the youth demographic (18-29) was going to, in the name of popular MTV outreach program, `rock the vote'.

Their efforts, that I do applaud, resulted in epic numbers of new voter sign ups and an expectation of almost 20 million youth voters going to the polls to voice their opinions with their vote. Where did their efforts get them? Nowhere. After all of the hype and expectations, youth voters accounted for 17% of the vote this year. 17%. The exact amount as in the 2000 Presidential Election. I can hear the golf snaps on this tremendous (yes, tongue in cheek) accomplishment now.

Reality check people. Kids will leave you at the alter. How many times did you commit to something in your younger years and not follow through? Exactly! No amount of free t-shirts and concerts is going to make young people feel obligated to go stand in line for hours on end just to vote. Now, if free concert tickets were involved in the process, that would definitely change things.

Let's face it. For many of these fresh new voters, a nice stash of spleef and a classic episode of Space Ghost Coast-to-Coast could make the difference in whether or not they actually leave their apartment to go vote.

Ah, the misbegotten joys of `yute'!

Hello Kitty Sucks--Oh Wait, She Can't--She Has No Mouth!
Mood:  cheeky
Now Playing: G Love & Special Sauce
First off, I want to say that Hello Kitty is a cat. I don't care what anyone else says, she just turned 30 years old so she is no longer a kitten she is a CAT.

How this moon-faced, mouthless white cat, evolved from a nameless feline on a cheap vinyl purse into some 50,000 different annoying products I have no idea.

Let's get real here. Hello Kitty is the Japanese equivalent of the Teletubbies or Barney--it's a character in a toddler show. How stupid would we all look if we wore Teletubbies and Barney stuff above the age of 6?

I am told that everyone loves Hello Kitty (yeah right). The question is: Does Hello Kitty love us? I mean, what's REALLY going on behind those empty, soulless eyes of hers? After all, they are just dots.

I have to admit though; Hello Kitty is one hell of a marketing machine. Everything you can imagine, and some you can't, has been cheerfully emblazoned with Hello Kitty. Shirts, phones, pencils, notepads, shoes, underwear, hair goodies, sippy cups, toilet paper...uh, what?

Yes folks, the product you've all been clamoring for: Hello Kitty toilet paper. "This item is perfect as a gift, because people who both love and hate Hello Kitty will get great use out of it!" Whew! I don't know about you, but my life is complete now...

Unfortunately, one item, the Hello Kitty 'massager', proved just a bit too popular if you know what I mean. Hello Kitty parent company Sanrio yanked the item after it was being advertised as a Hello Kitty vibrator...no-sankyu.

What I want to know is why isn't everybody up in arms that Hello Kitty is white as are all of her gaijin friends? You haven't seen the ACLU getting all bitter and filing copious amounts of lawsuits because there is no ethnic Hello Kitty like perhaps say African-American Kitty or Latina Kitty. How come Barbie has to have Black, Hispanic and handicapped friends, (and just how did Rachel end up in the wheel chair anyway? Was it really a rough sex accident?) but Hello Kitty just continues on in her perfect little white world with her perfect white boyfriend? Reverse anime discrimination I tell you!

Brazil's Got Problems
Mood:  cheeky
Now Playing: D12 D12's World
Brazil is in the grips of an unmitigated crisis. What you ask? As you may or may not know, Brazil is facing severe global economic and environmental pressures. Is it the International Monetary Policy and the idea of a fixed rate exchange? Burning jungles? Over crowded cities? The current measles, mumps and rubella vaccine problem?

No, apparently not. What are legislators worried about in Brazil? Well, according to the Associated Press, Brazilian legislators are proposing a law to make it illegal to give pets names that are common among people.

Now there's a good use of taxpayer cruzeiros.

It appears that the law was proposed after psychologists suggested that some children may get depressed when they learn they share their first name with someone's pet.

Bummer to be named Sparky then, eh?

One legislator was quoted as saying "Names have importance. I want to challenge people's assumptions that it's acceptable to give animals human names."

Good thing Chevy Chase doesn't live in Brazil or he would have to rename Doug, his Golden Retriever.

If the law is passed, pet stores and veterinary clinics would be required to display a sign noting the prohibition of human first names for pets.

Brazilians who break the law would be subject to fines or community service. Like they don't have enough to worry about down there without fearing that someone may find out their dog is name is named Paul...errr, I mean Paulos.

Trick or Treating in `Ancientpeopleville'
Mood:  mischievious
Now Playing: Ministry - Every Day is Halloween (80s Flashback)
In honor of Halloween, here's a story from my childhood...

As kids, my older sister and I used to love trick or treating in Grams and Gramps' neighborhood. Nothing is sweeter when you are a kid to a) be the only trick or treaters and b) be trick or treating in `Ancientpeopleville'.

Every year, we would beg mom and dad to take us over to Grams and Gramps so they could see our costumes. This was, in actuality, a juvenile subterfuge so that we could go trick or treating there. Neighborhoods of the aged, who aren't expecting trick or treaters, are by far the best places to go to get the goods. Even as children, we recognized our ability to be junior grifters and take these folks for as much as we could.

My sister and I used to go on and on about the fantabulous hauls we pulled in over at the old folk's hood. Think about it. Since they weren't expecting anyone, they were never prepared to give you anything. You would get whatever they could quickly lay their wrinkly, liver spotted hands on and sometimes, that was beyond sweet! Some of our favorite spur-of-the-moment treats we received over the years included:

* Cash (mostly silver Kennedy half dollars)
* 5lb box of Mrs. See's candy
* Red Swingline stapler (uh...but that's my stapler... my stapler...)
* Bag of jumbo Jet Puff marshmallows
* Eight track tape of Sinatra
* Reader's Digest
* A Boston Cream pie
* Chinese finger cuffs
* Dice
* Container of toothpicks
* Russian nesting doll set
* A honeydew melon
* Duct tape

It was always a smorgasbord of strange delights that usually resulted in a plethora of full size candy bars, odd donations and cash...

How I miss `ambush' trick or treating...

Posted by azcoolchick0 at 3:57 PM NZT | Post Comment | Permalink
Updated: Monday, November 1, 2004 3:59 PM NZT

Botox World
Mood:  d'oh
Now Playing: Old Crow Medicine Show
So, Sunday night I went to a charity fundraiser. A seriously high dollar fundraiser for a great cause, but one that I wouldn't have shelled out my own hard earned Kopeks to attend. But you gotta' love the spiffs associated with one's work-10 platinum tickets.

A bunch of us went with platinum passes--WAHOO! All of the award-winning cuisine, high-end booze and private after hours party with local favorite Reggae band, AzzIzz (hi Mark!), one could possibly stand.

The first comment that came to everyone's mind when entering the party (well, everyone I was there with anyaway) was "HOLY CRAP! I haven't seen this much Botox outside of Hollywierd-land of expressionless faces!" Everywhere you looked there were all of these little blond-streaked trophy wives dressed to the tens--yep, one step past the nines as in WAY over dressed. They were all clustering in groups like Mako Sharks around particularly bloody chum. It was eerie I tell you! You looked around and everywhere you could see circling wads of these over dressed and over done women.

I don't get where chicks in their mid to late forties think that `work' and Botox will make them look younger. These gals all looked like hard, over processed mid to late 40 year olds. It was creepy! One of them would tell a joke and they would all break into laughter, but nothing moved on their faces above their smiles. I could have bounced quarters off of their faces in a twisted game of speed quarters and they probably wouldn't have even noticed. Seriously. Very reminiscent of the Stepford Wives but taken to a whole new paralyzed facial muscle level...a whole new freaky echelon...

All I can say is that the Aquas song comes to mind with a variation on the words...I'm a Stepford Girl in a Botox World...

God grant me the ability to age gracefully...no injections of dead botulism neurotoxin for me!

Fear Factor Debates
Mood:  cheeky
Now Playing: The Used
I cannot tell you how happy I am that the Presidential debates are FINALLY over! It was like watching the same bad movie over and over and over again.

In every one of them it was all about blaming, dodging, finger pointing, back peddling, and some of what appeared to be outright lies and then afterwards, both sides claiming victory.

I don't know about you, but I think the debates should be more like reality television.

Wouldn't the debates be more fun if the candidates were required to do some stunts or physical challenges? I would think that adding an element like that would increase the viewing audience and turn these snore fests into something relatively hip and interesting.

Can't you see them strapped into safety gear and logrolling in a pool of leaches or jumping from planes into vats of goat urine or Greco-Roman wrestling Orangutans while wearing women's underwear or perhaps a hot coal walk...on their hands while singing "I'm a little tea pot" or perhaps they could just scootch across the coals on their hineys?

I don't know about you, but it would sure affect my vote. I'd definitely vote for the guy who could suck down the most pickled rat scrotum in 3 minutes.

POST SCRIPT 10/26/04
So I was watching the Dennis Miller Show last night and comedian Charlie Viracola was on (Charlie's World,etc.) discussing the Presidential election now eight days out. I was beyond suprised when he said the debates would have been better if they were "Fear Factor Debates"....hmmmmmmmm...either my readership is going places I never wanted it to and Charlie 'borrowed' the Fear Factor Debate idea or perhaps it was just a common idea among the quirky creative types...velly, velly strange I tell you...

Jesus Loves Me This I Know... Follow Up to 'Jesus Says Refinance Now'
Mood:  mischievious
Now Playing: Glenn Miller
While writing the entry "Jesus Says Refinance Now!" from September 19th it occured to me that I am definitely going to Hell!

Why you ask?

Because as I was thinking about the song "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the bible tells me so..." it occurred to me that Oscar Myer ripped off that song. (Those bastards!)

Think about it...the tune is pretty much the same.

"Jesus loves me, this I know. For the bible tells me so...and Oscar Myer has a way with b-o-l-o-g-n-a."

Yup. I say it screams copyright infringement.

You know that Oscar Myer could come up with an excuse. Perhaps the tired Vanilla Ice one. You know-that he didn't sample Queen's 'Under Pressure' in his only hit song in the 80s, well ever, "Ice, Ice Baby".

I can still hear Vanilla in a tv interview saying "No, I didn't sample it. Their song goes 'dunt, dunt, dunt, dunna, dunt, dunt'. Mine goes 'dunt, dunt, dunt, dinna, dunt, dunt.' See it's totally different. Uh-yeah. Whatever lets you sleep at night one hit wonder boy.

Now we know that yet another company is probably using the religious marketing tactic, subliminally, to sell weiners of all things!

Oh the horror of it all! Where does it end? Next thing you know some outdoor gear company is going to rip off "Go Tell It On The Mountain" for their next marketing campaign to promote hiking!

What Would Jesus Do... If He Were in Debt?
Mood:  surprised
Now Playing: Chick Corea
So I thought that nothing would suprise me after the email from the Christian Mortgage Company (see an older entry) telling me that "Jesus loves you...refinance now!"

I was wrong.

Today I received an email from the Christian Debt Network with the subject line of "Handle Your Debt the Christian Way". Uh, what? Is there a Christian and non-Christian way to handle debt? I was apparently blissfully unaware of that.

Does that mean that they won't give you debt counseling if you are Buddist or Jewish?

I wonder how far this marketing trend is going to go? I can see the emails now:

Atheist Debt Counseling...Because There is No God to Help You With Your Debt

Muslim Debt Counseling...Let Allah Show You the Path to Financial Stability

I would add one about Kabbalah, but it has unfortunately become a pop fashion religion and apparently most of its followers are Hollywood 'glitterati' and in no need of debt counseling...

Rubber Duckie, You're the One-You Make Rance Time Such Less Fun...
Mood:  sad
Now Playing: Tori Amos
You, my friends and family, who this blog is for know me and love me. However, I am under attack by random forces who feel that it is ok to make seriously off base and rather vicious personal judgments of me so I feel the need to respond via this, my forum.

Apparently the First Amendment is no longer applicable when it comes to the formerly amazing blog site belonging to Rance. (If you are unaware of Rance, I don't have the inclination to inform you--it sucks now so just realize that you are missing nothing). What was once an amazingly original site has been sucked down by nauseating and sophomoric sycophants all doing the elephant walk with each other.

The site has gone to the shitter under the leadership of `Rubber Duckie' - who I always tend to think of as a man because of the apparent reference to the nickname in the trucker song "Convoy"- but who is, in fact, a self-proclaimed single mother who evidently lacks any sort of life in the real world. Rance's blog has gone from acerbic and witty commentaries on Hollywood life to a 12-step support system for wanna be writers looking for validation.

God forbid, you voice an opinion about the sorry direction the site has taken or a handful of losers will immediately make harsh and completely unfounded remarks about your character--not about your comments--about you personally. Way to go kids! It doesn't get more childish that that! Welcome back to grade school! Another black eye for the mob mentality!

There is one poster, the he/she/it "Bubba", who went off on me like I was the devil incarnate. According to this "Pat" poster (I thought it was a guy but from its posts, it appears to be female but he/she/it made references to forgiving my comments if I was "hot" so it appears that I am developing a cult lesbian following-my sister will be SO proud!), you all have to stop using the nicknames you have given me (yep, even those dating back to college) because he/she/it Bubba has decided that I made them all up. Uh, yeah. Apparently he/she/it Bubba needs company on the making up your own nicknames LOSER planet.

He/she/it Bubba also stated basically that I am not a nice person. I know--go ahead and crack up! I did when I read that. Yeah, I'm just horrid! That's why I'm known as the South Mountain Rescue Society and have placed more stray animals in homes than I can count and I have kept all of the ones (including my retarded puppy Porkchop) that I couldn't place. I have friends and family who adore me but some random stranger, who apparently has WAY too much time on its hands, has decided that I am evil based upon a comment I posted on a blog. I'm sorry, that's just scary to me that someone is so full of hate and bilious comments for a total stranger. As Aerosmith says "There's something wrong with the world today..." For cripe's sake he/she/it Bubba--GET A LIFE!!!

He/she/it Bubba also claims to have read my blog and concluded that I "hate everything". Hmmmmm...with that comment you make it obvious that you couldn't have read it. The only true `hate' entry is about Michael Moore's trip to the U of A and I just needed to vent about that one. Ok, I also hate grasshoppers and the faux word supposibly. The reason I started this blog was at the urging of friends who wanted to read my `rants' and know that I won't publish any of my 'sniglets' or 'rants' because I don't consider them serious or worth attention. The majority of them simply raise questions or point out amusing things. He/she/it Bubba apparently thinks I hate food on a stick, auto scent machines, midgets, nuns, drinking in garages, Theresa Heinz-Kerry, necrophilia, beef jerky and the Passion of the Christ, Hummer Cologne, horses (yeah right--Hey Mr. Big, you hear that out in your stall?!) etc., etc. Interesting that my friends and family (who are really the only people I ever expected to read the entries) find them hilarious and kind of a combination of Erma Bombeck and Dennis Miller (or so I am told), but he/she/it Bubba believes when I playfully rant, I am being hateful. According to he/she/it Bubba I have nothing to bitch about because I live in Phoenix and we have warm weather and it's not like I am trying to get my kids to school. (WHAT?! Put the crack pipe down--move away from the rock!) Once again...uh, yeah. Phoenix is perfect--no reason to bitch here...Where does this freak live anyway?

I gave up trying to explain on Rance's site, because much like the situation in Iraq, the many are being quelled and repressed by the few and extreme. Even the moderator, Rubber Duckie, is out of line. If you were running a site and everyone starting really being hateful and flaming one person for her respectfully worded opinion, wouldn't you step in and stop the flaming activity--which is your job as monitor? Not in RD's world. She apparently takes every comment personally and doesn't agree with Rodney King about "Can't we all just get along?" Way to be a moderator chicky! You, of all people, should not be commenting and further exacerbating the situation. Hope you don't work as a police hostage negotiator somewhere!

In closing, if you are one of the freaky mean green beans from Rance's site--go the HELL away! After the last bizarre-o comments by RD and he/she/it Bubba, I will never visit the site again. The majority of the audience has, much like Elvis, left the building and you and your cronies can sit around self-flagellating and patting each other on the back until your arms break in your low rent script writing class.

If you don't like my sites, my writing style, my comments or me--just bugger off! You weren't invited anyway. Everything is not about you--just get over it and leave me alone!

Michael Moore at the U of A--are you f@cking kidding me?!
Mood:  on fire
Now Playing: The Sex Pistols
So I get an email last week from a friend of mine that the University of Arizona is going to pay Michael Moore almost $30k to speak as part of their get out the vote effort. WHAT?!?! Are you kidding me?!I immediately wrote U of A President Peter Likin an email expressing my concern--alright, my outrage at this suggestion. Following are my original email, President Linkin's response and my response. I had to vent about this.

"Dear President Likins-
I cannot begin to tell you how deeply disturbed I am that ASUA, and by extension the University of Arizona, is paying to bring Michael Moore in to speak to the students.

You have stated that Mr. Moore has been invited to participate in the ASUA's "...effort to heighten student awareness about the political process during this election year. ASUA's efforts include a massive voter registration drive, educating students about issues and candidates, and getting students to the polls on Election Day."

I fail to see where Michael Moore would have any positive contribution to this effort. How does a man who publicly derides the United States, its leadership, its legislative process and its people bring anything to your efforts? This is the man who, during an interview with the British paper The Mirror, said this about Americans: "They are possibly the dumbest people on the planet . . . in thrall to conniving, thieving smug [pieces of the human anatomy]," Moore intoned. "We Americans suffer from an enforced ignorance. We don't know about anything that's happening outside our country. Our stupidity is embarrassing."

This is the man you are encouraging to speak to our young people about the political process? A man who presents himself as a documentary filmmaker, when in fact he is nothing but a self-serving, self-promoter who is making a fortune by misleading the American public through creative editing of the facts.

I do not care what party you are affiliated with: Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Green, etc. Michael Moore has nothing to do with civic awareness, political mindedness or political education.

Michael Moore is a draw--not a valid input. If you were really going to bring someone in for this effort it would be a non-partisan speaker who would talk about the American lives that have been lost to protect our ability to vote, the fight for women's suffrage, the importance of educating yourself on the issues and the candidates as well as the significance of speaking your mind by voting. It would not be someone who has used the issues and the candidates to promote himself, line his own wallet and who is clearly not interested in presenting any unbiased information to the students of the University of Arizona.

I consider Michael Moore a traitor to our men and women in uniform who are willingly risking their lives on a daily basis to protect our continued freedom and our ability to vote. He is un-American and does not deserve to have the University of Arizona help him to advance his personal agenda.
Sincerely,
My Full Name
University of Arizona, Class of 199_"

President Likin's response dumbfounded me to say the least. Keep in mind while reading it, that this is from the President (as in highest paid staff member) of a major university...

Peter Likins wrote:
Megan ...

I see that part of the problem here is that I have never taken Michael Moore sufficiently seriously to read anything he has written, hear him speak or see his films. I have no interest in his visit to campus, but then again I ignore extreme views on all sides of these questions so I can concentrate on working with real people on real issues.

For me this flap is not about Michael Moore at all. It's about whether or not I should allow students whom I know and trust to do their best to provide the campus with a balanced set of five speakers. My decision is to support my students, even if they have made a judgement that I would have made differently. These students are feeling very badly right now, knowing that I am taking the heat for their decisions. I have told them that it's my responsibility to protect their freedom to learn from experience, and that's what I'm doing.

Cheers ...

Pete

Is this man huffing suntan lotion? "Cheers Pete"? How inappropriate a closing is that? Not only did he address me as if I were an insipid youngster, he really didn't address my concerns. Therefore, a reply/rebuttal was needed:

"Dear Mr. Linkin-
I find your response to my email disturbing to say the least. The fact that a speaker is being paid to come to the University of Arizona and you, as the President of the institution, have "no interest in his visit to campus" is, pardon my frankness, asinine.

You say that you feel your students did "their best to provide the campus with a balanced set of five speakers." Balanced? In what universe are their choices balanced? There is no balance whatsoever with the five speakers chosen. The only ones who are balanced and will present relatively un-biased information are Governor Napolitano and Representative Jim Kolbe, who when last I checked was TBD as a speaker, which means he could very well not be able to attend depending upon his commitments in Washington. That leaves you with one relatively non-partisan speaker, Governor Napolitano, and three speakers who are all self-motivated by their own personal agendas and stand to gain or profit by some means through this appearance.

A Karen Filippelli answered an email for you with some nonsense about different "belief systems" justifying Moore's appearance. Different "belief systems"? That's rich! How about a complete lack thereof other than the almighty dollar on Moore's part? He is nothing but a self-aggrandizing opportunist.

Please know that I don't dislike Moore because of his political views. I dislike him because he presents a skewed point of view, manipulates it with editing to produce his own distinct opinion and then represents it as the truth. His films are less about truth than they are about the truth AS MOORE SEES IT. This makes them propaganda tools, essentially, and Moore himself has said he advocates using his film in an effort to defeat Bush. He is using his movie as a political tool. He has no objectivity and it is obvious that he is as self-serving as any of the media giants...the only thing he's promoting is himself and his anti-Bush rhetoric. This is one of your `balanced speakers'?

You say that you are giving your students the freedom to make these choices. I am a staunch believer in freedom. I am a firm supporter of the First Amendment. America is all about freedom of speech, but along with freedom of speech comes the responsibility to speak responsibly which I think we all know, Moore will not do at this, or any other, speaking engagement.

Mr. Moore has had every opportunity to speak his mind and anyone who wants to, is able to purchase his works and listen to his opinions. However, when a public institution spends almost $30,000 (regardless of the source of the funding) to help him further his personal agenda in the name of getting out the vote efforts, those of us who pay taxes and tuition fees to support that institution become unwilling advocates of that opinion and have the right to object and you, as well as the members of the ASUA, rightly deserve to take the heat for these decisions and any ramifications that may result from them especially the fact that the University's alumnus funding is going to take a major hit from this decision. While you were "ignoring the extreme views on all sides of these questions" so you could "concentrate on working with real people on real issues", I am surprised that you really haven't given this "real issue" brought to your attention by "real people" much consideration but then again, in your own words, you haven't been paying attention you've been "ignoring" it.

Never in my time attending the University of Arizona, was I subjected to any public figure or professor who flat out gave his opinions without ever having to produce any facts to back them up. Apparently things have changed on campus and I, for one, think it is detrimental to the future of the institution.

Sincerely-
My Full Name
Class of 199_

PS-On a completely different note, I find it disconcerting that for some reason you felt it was appropriate to address me with undo familiarity as if I were an acquaintance. Is this because I am only 36 years old? I find it highly doubtful that you would have responded to members of the class of 1957 with "Cheers Pete". "