Thursday, September 30, 2010

Charity-minded callers are getting intercepted by a phone-sex line because of a typo on cereal boxes.

The phone number is supposed to connect callers to Feed the Children. But the box has the wrong toll-free prefix, meaning callers get a seductive-sounding woman who makes risque suggestions and then asks for a credit card number.

Ha! Yeah, it was a mistake. I knew something was up from the name Apple Jacks.

Carl Paladino's campaign staff is furious about Joy Behar's cavalier treatment of the sanctity of marriage defender's secret family.

"Joy Behar should be absolutely ashamed of herself for referring to Carl's daughter as illegitimate. She's a child and does not deserve that kind of treatment from a woman who should know better. That's catty, it's pissy and strikes of something that someone would say when suffering from a sudden hot flash. The only person here who's illegitimate is Joy Behar's hairstylist."

Sarah Palin chimed in minutes later, adding "Refudiate that, bitches!"

Alberto Contador, a three-time winner of the Tour de France, tested positive for a banned substance in blood taken during this year's race.

Facing the loss of his 2010 Tour title and a two-year ban from the sport, Contador says he unknowingly ingested the chemical when he was served old meat at a hotel restaurant.

Yes, sucking down old meat is a performance-enhancer. Look! I just ran to Spain.

Larry the Cable Guy is selling his house.

This is the den. Look at all those guitars! When you're that rich, you can have one just for Daughtry songs. The good news is, if he jumps up and says he's going to entertain you, it doesn't necessarily mean he's going to tell a joke.

This is the living room.

If Gilligan and the Skipper ever moved in together, I like to think their place would look like this.

The kitchen is also golden brown.

That's eight thousand square feet for every Hot Pocket in the fridge.

Larry's probably got mixed feelings about selling, with so many happy memories lingering in all those manly construction materials.

ARCHITECT: Larry, there's no way we can finish the place on time. The world is currently experiencing a shortage of wood, brick, and rope.

LARRY: Git r done!

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Record Cover of the Week

After months of he-said-she-said, psychotic phone calls and charges of extortion, here's what the Mel Gibson scandal boils down to:

We are never going to see the curious bit of fluff that is Jodie Foster's "Beaver."

You know, I was kind of looking forward to seeing it, if only to answer this question: What would prompt a respectable member of society to run around with a brainless puppet? I guess anything's better than living in a dam.

The good news: Mother Nature still surprises and delights us with wonderful new creatures that demonstrate her diversity.

The bad news: Somewhere in Alabama, there's a sign in a restaurant window advertising the world's largest pork chops.
Anderson Cooper pulled no punches last night when he interviewed Andrew Shirvell, the Assistant District Attorney from Michigan who spends his time blogging about Chris Armstrong, the openly gay President of the University of Michigan's student body.

"The University’s first openly 'gay' student body president . . . is actively recruiting your sons and daughters to join the homosexual 'lifestyle," reads a typical post on Shirvell's website, Chris Armstrong Watch, where he also calls Armstrong "Satan's representative."

"Are you a bigot?" Cooper asked. "Aren't you a cyber-bully? . . . It appears, though, that you're obsessed with this young gay man."

"I sense anger in your voice," Shirvell replied.

No, not really. Actually, most of the world is wondering how you can stand there and defend yourself when you're obviously about three seconds away from being caught with Chris Armstrong's jockstrap in your mouth.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

New Yorkers are complicated people. Yesterday on the subway I saw a guy who had a tattoo of a hand with the middle finger extended, and he was wearing an astrological pendant.

What's the unspoken message he wants to give people? Fuck yourself. And in case you're wondering, I'm a Virgo!

Picked Up By Microphones at Dancing With The Stars

BRISTOL: Mama, I can't believe I made a fool out of myself in front of twenty million people!

SARAH: Yup, sweetie, that's a great start!

Last night some talk show host praised Obama, and it got me nostalgic. Sure, maybe he hasn't been a great president, but he hasn't been too bad, right? We expected a lot, and we were pissed off when we didn't get it.

Rather than compare him to perfection, I thought, maybe we should grade him on a curve -- because honestly, there are some real idiots out there. Did Obama tell us we shouldn't masturbate? Did he hold an African-American convention and hire Michelle "Bombshell" McGee to speak? Did he applaud wildly as Malia played a deer in headlights on Dancing With the Stars?

It's like criticizing George Clooney for looking dumb on The Facts of Life.

The thing is, President Obama's missteps get magnified because he's the dude in charge. He has the Democrat reputation in his hands. When he says something stupid, it gets under our skin.

Now, I am also the commander in chief of an armed forces that is in the midst of one war and wrapping up another one. So I don't think it's too much to ask, to say "Let's do this in an orderly way" — to ensure, by the way, that gays and lesbians who are serving honorably in our armed forces aren't subject to harassment and bullying and a whole bunch of other stuff once we implement the policy.

That's the excuse Obama gave to Rolling Stone for not repealing DADT.

When I read this, I tried to grade it on a curve. I tried. But to me, something is either true or it isn't. There's no gray area. Saying penguins live on the North Pole isn't any smarter than saying they take their tuxedos off at night.

Clearly, this explanation is ridiculous. Obama doesn't want gays to be harassed or bullied. Then why do gay kids go to school?

In the end, neither party comes through. Same result, different motivation. I ask myself: Would the bus driver have gotten off the hook if he'd told Rosa Parks the seats were stuffed with goose feathers in back?

And then I circle back to my original decision.

Fuck them all. Fuck us. When everybody lies, all that matters is how well we dance.

Now pardon me; it's time for my Cha-Cha.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Did I miss some news about  Like, in the last year or two it was taken over by monkeys?  Scratch that:  monkeys have opposable thumbs.  Was it bought out by pillbugs?

It took Amazon four days to get my last purchase to the post office, which made them just slightly slower to fulfill orders than the woman who crochets custom toilet seat covers on Etsy.  Still, it's not like I've got a choice.  I'm boycotting Target. I refuse to set foot in Kmart, having no desire for the fumes of rotisseried hot dogs to lacquer the insides of my nostrils. And there's no Wal-Mart here, because even the city that gave you Donald Trump has some kind of standards.

So, what am I stuck with?  Rite-Aid.  And while Amazon sells the automatic toothbrush heads I need for $21, at Rite-Aid they're $37.

I've always thought their store motto should be, "Hah!  Gotcha!"

Needless to say, I went with Amazon.  And while I was checking out, they offered me all sorts of fabulous opportunities.  If I applied for their credit card, I'd get my order free.  If I joined Amazon Prime for $80, I'd get cheap shipping.  If I paired my purchase with some Stetson cologne and a bale of hay, they'd give me three extra entries in their "Who Wants To Win A Pony?" contest.

And then there was the Subscribe & Save program.  They'd automatically send me replacement brush heads every six months, and I'd get 15% off and free shipping.  Cancel at any time!

I thought for a second.  Free shipping? And "any time" includes "two minutes after I get my order," right?  I was raised by wolves, not idiots.

Three days later, I got this email:

The next shipment of your subscription item Philips Sonicare Elite (E-Series) Replacement Brush Head, Standard (2-Pack) has encountered an unexpected problem. We are working to correct the issue, but your shipment will be delayed.

And once again Amazon has proven that the words "in stock" on their website actually translate to "We haven't seen it since your bedroom was plastered with Mark Spitz photos, but it's gotta be around here somewhere."  They're oddly vague about this "problem," and how long the delay will be. They sound like the guy who comes onstage to tell you the concert will start late without specifically stating that Grace Jones just stuck her head in the toilet because she wanted to see mermaids.

Still, I'm more curious than irritated. When Radar magazine folded halfway through my subscription, they started sending me Psychology Today instead. What could Amazon substitute for toothbrush heads? Mittens? A cactus? I'm tempted to call up and talk to somebody, but I'm thinking I'd probably make a loud noise and then they'd just curl up and roll away.

You know how they say if your hand itches, it means somebody's going to give you money? Evidently, somebody's going to give me a blowjob.

I Am Not Like Whatever

My friend Raoul is always like whatever.
Want to go to the mall? I ask.
Want to watch TV? I ask.
Want to play a videogame? I ask.
Like whatever, he always says.

I am not like Raoul.
I am strong. I am decisive.
Every step I take shows the direction I am headed.

I am not like whatever.
I am totally like what.
Non-gay pastor Eddie Long now has four men saying he molested them when they were teenagers. He's still proclaiming his innocence, and claims he's going to fight back. Naturally there's a Biblical reference: "I feel like David against Goliath," he says.

News flash to Mr. Long: if you don't want to sound gay, maybe avoid talking about how the next time a big guy comes along you're going to whip out your giant stones and aim at face.

Friday, September 24, 2010

A Sarah Palin-supported website called "Take Back the Twenty" wants Tea Baggers to replace Democrats for 20 U. S. House seats, but they're using an odd graphic to convey to their supporters exactly what needs to be done.

Got that? "We've diagnosed the problem. . . . Help us prescribe the solution."

Dudes, just judging from the cross-hairs, it looks like you've already decided on a solution but you're short of either shooters or ammo.
A couple of homophobic bakers didn't quite get their story straight after refusing to make rainbow cupcakes for a gay student group.

"Look around, we don't have cupcakes," said Lilly Stockton, co-owner of Indianapolis' Just Cookies. "I don't have enough colors to do that."

"[W]e're a family-run business," added her husband David. "We have two young, impressionable daughters and we thought maybe it was best not to do that."

Wow. That's kind of a disconnect. I'm thinking if they were sitting at a table during this interview, she'd have kicked his legs until they were black and blue.

Well, since they're against color-mixing, I'm hoping one was black and the other blue.

Meanwhile, you want a black-and-white cookie? Buy a black one and a white one and GO HOME. Nobody wants to teach impressionable kids that all sorts of different frostings can live in harmony on a baked good. Next they'll be thinking it's okay for bananas to rub up against apricots.

And now the idiots have a different question to answer:

IMPRESSIONABLE DAUGHTER: What's wrong with rainbow frosting, Daddy?

HOMOPHOBIC BAKER: People should eat the frosting God intended them to eat!

The icing on the cake? A one-star rating on Yelp, and 4% positive on Urban Spoon. Be sure to add your vote.

Celebrate Bisexuality Day!

I might. And I might not.

Looks like I'm not getting a Happy Meal.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Thomas Friedman from the New York Times

[F]rom the very opening session of this year’s World Economic Forum here in Tianjin, our Chinese hosts did not hesitate to do some comparing. China’s CCTV aired a skit showing four children — one wearing the Chinese flag, another the American, another the Indian, and another the Brazilian — getting ready to run a race. Before they take off, the American child, “Anthony,” boasts that he will win “because I always win,” and he jumps out to a big lead. But soon Anthony doubles over with cramps. “Now is our chance to overtake him for the first time!” shouts the Chinese child. “What’s wrong with Anthony?” asks another. “He is overweight and flabby,” says another child. “He ate too many hamburgers.”

If it's any consolation, the Brazilian kid came in third, tripping on his thong.

In a 30-second TV spot released Thursday, [Carly] Fiorina, the Republican Senate nominee in California and a former chief executive of Hewlett-Packard, attacks her Democratic rival, Senator Barbara Boxer, for her “arrogance” at insisting that a general call her “senator” rather than “ma’am.”

And how about that Obama character? Totally doesn't like it when journalists precede a question with, "So here's what I'm wondering, ma brotha."

David Whitley, national columnist at AOL's sports website FanHouse, applauds the Louis Cardinals' refusal to show same-sex couples on the stadium Kiss Cam.

I'd like to take the socially enlightened high road on this one, but I can't help sympathizing with that father who'll be sitting next to his son or daughter at Busch Stadium. "Daddy, why are those two men kissing?"

Is that really such a tough question to answer? Obviously they must have run out of condoms.

Gay Man's Map of Europe & Asia

"SAUNAS"? Really, that's what England is known for? Me, I'd pencil in something like, "GAYDAR IS DISABLED HERE."

"I Am Not Gay," Says Guy Wearing A Hat In The Bathroom

Totally Not Gay Ted Haggard Needs To Learn That If You Don't Leave The Peroxide in Long Enough Your Hair Goes Brassy

CBS Continues to Build Anticipation for "$#*! My Dad Says"

The [pilot] episode was also largely rewritten; among the new jokes: “You should see my zucchini.” “I think I did last night when you answered the door in your jammies.”

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

This week David Beckham allegedly paid a "Bosnian bombshell" $10,000 for sex; she snipes, "I wasn't impressed."

Actually, babe, for $10,000, if he didn't leave you handcuffed to Abe Vigoda with a mouthful of hummus, you should be fuckin' thrilled.

On Saturday I got a birthday present in the mail from my Auntie Phil. (She's actually a woman: it's short for Philomena, I think.) It was a box of Texas Chewy Pecan Pralines from Lammes Candies. I love ye olde regional specialty candies -- Lammes has been making pralines since 1885 -- so I was pretty happy to get them. They're an instantly-acquired taste: the first bite establishes a salty-caramel, toffee flavor in your mouth, and after that your taste buds pretty much just scream for another fix.

I ate four out of sixteen, and I went to bed that night patting myself on the back for stopping just short of gluttony.

And when I woke up the next morning I was covered from neck to knee in red spots.

I Googled "allergic to pecans" and found 11,200 hits. My affliction had a name:


I found this picture on some health website:

I felt like taking a picture of myself and mailing it to this guy with a note saying, "Hey, dude, you wanna see hives?"

I took a Benadryl. I always keep it in my medicine chest for those times I want to feel like I've been hit by a truck. And I waited. I had two kinds of spots, I discovered: the ones that itched like hell, and the ones that burned. I took another Benadryl. And another.

Worked like a charm. Now I'm too weak to scratch. It's that kind of blitzed where you decide to cut something out of the newspaper and two minutes later realize you've accidentally plunged the scissors into your forehead.

Meanwhile, I'm trying not to play victim, but I'm wondering why I need a prescription to buy vampire contact lenses but I can go to any store and pick up something that'll turn me into a human pincushion. The Italian "sleeping aid" I bought from a dodgy website came with fewer warnings than these Pecan Chewies.

So, I'm taking it easy today. I'm heavily drugged. I feel miserable. Besides, I've got to write up a thank-you note to Auntie Phil. I figure the right message has to be somewhere between, "Those things are abso-freakin'-licious!" and "Thanks for giving me the look of runaway VD without all the bother of sex."

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

KFC will pay college girls $500 to walk around campus wearing sweatpants that bear the "Double Down" logo on the ass. "On select college campuses," the press release says, "female undergraduates will sport KFC Double Down branded sweatpants to encourage students to try the unique bun-less sandwich."

"Double Down"?

Considering how much fat is in their food, if they really have to put a poker term on women's sweatpants it should probably be "Split a Pair."

With Friends Like These

In Cameron and Mitchell's living room [on ABC sitcom Modern Family], the sofa was purchased at H.D. Buttercup. The tufted and piped armchairs chairs came from Room Service, and the coffee table and rug were from from CB2.

Asian furniture and accessories are part of the visual vocabulary, says "Modern Family" set decorator Amber Haley. "We like to joke that they went to China to get a baby that would match their décor," says Eric Stonestreet, who won an Emmy for his portrayal of Cameron.
A new book reveals that a member of MI6, the British spy agency, discovered during WWI that semen makes excellent invisible ink.

The problem, though, is all the typos.

After the recipient got one of these messages, he had to eat it, of course, but it was up to him whether he'd spit or swallow.

Finalist in Budget Travel magazine's true story contest:

Late one night on one of my first visits to Las Vegas, I was standing in line in an ice cream shop when Elvis Presley and his entourage walked in. The woman in front of me, who was getting her change after ordering, was obviously completely starstruck. After she walked out of the shop, she came back to tell the clerk that he hadn't given her her ice cream cone. Before the clerk could say anything, Elvis leaned forward with a big smile and said, "Yes he did, honey -- I saw you put it in your purse." -- Pamela Webb, Rosemont, PA

Dear Pamela,

Did you know we can Google this shit nowadays?

I bet if you'd gone for Lady Gaga in Vatican City you'd have won.

Hope this helps,

Monday, September 20, 2010

I remember all the men I've dated who wore cowboy hats, and I have a special place in my heart for them. This strikes me as kind of weird, considering none of them ever showed evidence of a cowboy skill. They didn't bake beans in a dutch oven. They never herded livestock to market. They never roped any wayward calves.

Yet somehow they leapt ahead in the macho race, even if they had a bigger Cuisinart than Julia Child.

If you're going to use a hat to transform yourself, a cowboy hat is the way to go. When people think you're a cowboy, they think you're masculine, and hard-working, and loyal. If you opt for a beret, on the other hand, they just think you've seen Cabaret one too many times.

Still, the three cowboys I've known were more than just dudes in leather headgear. My first used his lifestyle to fuel a music career, writing and performing under the name Chaps. Chaps was a bold-face name in the world of gay disco country. Basically he wrote songs you could dance to that were like twelve minutes long and had coyotes howling for the middle ten.

Chaps was my friend Gary's ex. Gary's life still revolved around Chaps. He called Chaps five times a day. He dropped in on Chaps whenever he was in the neighborhood. Chaps had unceremoniously dumped Gary, but Gary still hung around to make sure nobody else got him.

Naturally Gary leapt in when he sensed I was interested. "He's nice," he told me, "but he can't get hard. He's absolutely lousy in bed."

Those words kept me away for about twelve seconds, but eventually curiosity won out. Chaps and I dated a couple times, then we hopped in the sack. What Gary hadn't divulged was the reason Chaps couldn't get hard: he was enormous downstairs. If every ounce of blood in his body got diverted down there, it still wouldn't have raised its head.

Still, we gave it the old cowboy try. It went from borderline fun to mostly tiring. It'd go up, it'd go down, it'd go up again. I wanted to brag to Gary that I was up to the task, but it was like riding a bucking bronco: there was that initial blast of adrenaline, followed by a rollercoaster ride. It was exhilarating; it was exhausting. After seven seconds of bouncing, I was back on the ground with my hands covering my face, wondering what was keeping those goddamn clowns.

Bob was a businessman roughly double my age. He was a Gary Cooper type: plain spoken, unassuming, unpretentious. The cowboy hat seemed a natural fit. Throw in a mansion south of Ventura and I fell for him instantly.

Bob had built a great life for himself, but he was lonely. The problem was, he identified more as cowboy than gay, which made dating difficult. He didn't want to go anywhere gay, and didn't want to take another man anywhere especially straight. Our first date, then, was at his house. As was our second, and third, and fourth. By the fifth we'd established a pattern: watching Westerns on an enormous TV and eating off folding aluminum trays.

I would have been happy coasting awhile, but Bob had to push things along. He glared at my overnight bag. "Ain't it about time you moved some stuff into the ole bunkhouse?" he asked.

I thought about it for a minute before I said no. We were less sweethearts than sidekicks. I still had some rasslin' and ropin' to do before I rode off into the sunset. Still, once in a while I picture what might have been, that handsome couple in matching Stetsons standing before a man of the cloth.

PREACHER: Is you two fixin' to get hitched today?

BOB AND I: Danged if we ain't!

The last cowboy I knew for two hours. I met him at Floyd's, a country bar in Long Beach. Floyd's was ridiculously authentic. You'd think it would be hard for city folk to look like they just slid down out of the saddle, but gay men are talented. C'mon, if we can art-direct Star Trek, we can slap some dust on a leather vest and steel-wool the seat of our pants. Whereas in any other bar you'd hear talk about sex and gossip and TV and movies, here you could eavesdrop on a thousand conversations and hear nothing but "Yup" and "Shucks."

In those hours, I fell in love with Colt. He led me through endless two-steps where we'd promenade around the bar a hundred times. I kept one hand in his, the other on his solid waist, and stared into his clear blue eyes. I sank into him, swooning over the muscularity and vigor that boded well for further entanglement.

Eventually the lights came on and the music stopped, and words had to be exchanged. "I had an incredible evening," I said.

Colt nodded. "That there's my boyfriend," he said, pointing to a grinning, moon-faced guy in business casual who was waving at us expectantly. "He's filthy rich, and he's generous. You want to have a three-way?"

I gave it some thought. If there's two guys in bed, you can pick the one you want, right? Then I remembered I'd brought a hundred boxes of KFC to various picnics and potlucks but always gotten stuck with wing.

I shook my head and once again I left alone. And that night I gave up on cowboys. In your mind you think they're mystical creatures who ride some metaphorical plain, but in reality they're just regular dudes in fancy hats who want you to help mosey their doggies home.

Friday, September 17, 2010

What's New, Featuring Beth Ostrowsky Stern

I'm really looking forward to fall because I just bought a pair of Chanel camel boots.

Us Vs. Them

Hans Zeiger, Republican candidate for the state of Washington's House of Representatives: A lesbian shooting an angry glare at me shows how intolerant gays are.

Gay people: A dude asking "Are you gay?" and then stabbing you when you say yes shows how intolerant heteros are.

A 14-year-old girl's nose ring has landed her a suspension from school and started a First Amendment fight.

Ariana Iacono claims the piercing is part of her religion. "I think it's kind of stupid for them to kick me out of school for a nose piercing," she said. "It's in the First Amendment for me to have freedom of religion."

While the school dress code forbids piercings, it allows exemptions on religious grounds.

Ariana says most of her classmates support her, as well as other members of the Church of the Punctured Booger.'s new tote for men is a shoulder-strapped duffel inspired by gunpowder bags of the 1800s. It features heavy leather details and gunmetal hardware, and an interior lined with black bull denim. It comes in "cement" and "kale."

Now c'mon, dudes, that's got to be butch enough to carry your Kindle and sunblock.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

I call home as I leave the office each weeknight, and that is Dexter’s cue to begin laying out the ramekins. When I kiss him goodbye in the morning, I hand him the recipes I’ll be cooking for dinner. Although he is only 6, by the time I get home he has minced the requisite number of shallots, blanched and peeled the tomatoes, seeded and julienned the peppers, soaked and blotted the salted capers and plucked all the tiny brown rocks out of the tiny brown lentils. Then he carefully transfers each ingredient to its own small white dish.

Thus the world learns there's actually something worse than finding your son in a bra and panties cooking up crystal meth.

What is with right-wingers these days? Yesterday Ann Coulter harped about "Michael Gross" in her column when she really meant "Michael Joseph Gross." As a result, the author of Model: The Ugly Business of Beautiful Woman is getting hate mail intended for the guy who painted Sarah Palin as a selfish, violent pathological liar in this month's Vanity Fair.

Then today Rush Limbaugh fell for a fake Wikipedia post and gushed in admiration for a conservative judge who allegedly killed three brown bears and mounted their stuffed carcasses in his courtroom to scare criminals. Not quite true, says his wife, who added that in reality he's president of the American Camellia Society.

What's next? Rosie O'Donnell is deluged with emails from people who say they saw her on TV and aren't going to masturbate.

Iggy Pop, center, his hair down during a performance at Don Hill's during Fashion Week.

Dear New York Times:

Here's a photo of Iggy Pop during that performance last week.

Thanks to you, somewhere in New York, a pretty young woman has just bought sixteen jars of wrinkle cream and an overcoat.

Hope this helps,
Police in Ohio have released cell phone video of a two-year-old girl smoking what appears to be a joint.

According to authorities in Cincinnati, the toddler's mother is heard in the background coaching the child.

The girl holds the joint and appears to be smoking it while watching television.

"Wow, I really do have crummy parents," said Cigarette Smoking Boy.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

During the first episode of the final season of The Oprah Winfrey Show, the host announced that she would take the 300 members of her studio audience on a trip to Australia in December.

Her crew wheeled out a life-size replica of an airplane and revealed a second surprise: John Travolta would fly them all there in a private jet.

When finally brought out to meet the rapturous crowd, Travolta appeared a bit stunned. "Wait," he said, "are there no dudes here or what?"

Joseph J. DioGuardi, a former congressman from Westchester County, emerged from a field of little-known candidates on Tuesday as the Republican choice to take on New York Senator Kirsten E. Gillibrand in the November election.

Asked to comment on her dad's performance, Kara DioGuardi said, "I think it was. . . . Wait. Really, he's such a -- I mean, I'm a big fan of. . . . Hmm?"

Was yesterday an exhilarating demonstration of the democratic process or what? Honestly, it just reaffirms your belief in our fabulous system. Government here in America really is run by the people.

Well, the people who wear meat dresses to awards shows, but the people nonetheless.

See, this is why I'm proud to be a Democrat. The teabaggers are insane, and who knows what they'll do once they're in office. But Democrats, they follow the principles this nation was built on. You want them to do something, forget that old voting booth! Get a woman with testicles to go on TV and beg.

Lady Gaga got Harry Reid to finally schedule a vote on Don't Ask, Don't Tell, so score one for our side. She's single-handedly re-energized the Democratic base, and we're ready to take on new hurdles now.

In fact, I'll bet if we got Betty White on Maury Povich we could finally get something done in Darfur.

Proof that there's karma? Oh, absolutely. Hope this serves as a lesson to you kids. Rant about ethnic groups and scream at your wife and you too could end up eating out of Tupperware.
The 1978 horror film I Spit On Your Grave is being re-released in "select theaters" on October 8. I guess they want to cash in on the Saw and Hostel audience. Naturally they're putting their best foot forward, so all their ads warn about "sadistic brutal violence and torture, disturbing images, strong language and nudity."

Well, when you put it that way.

Actually, I'm kidding. It's way too intense for me. Just in the interest of my mental well-being, I'd rather dip my toe into the horror waters than dive in head-first. If they re-release I Wee A Little In Your Bed color me there.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

I ordered something through Amazon on August 30. It wasn't actually an Amazon item: the fine print said, "Sold by Alive & Aware and Fulfilled by Amazon." I clicked on the link for Alive & Aware, saw their feedback rating was 98%, and ordered.

16 days later, I still haven't gotten it.

I emailed Alive & Aware and they claimed total ignorance. They had nothing to do with this order, they said. Whenever an item has that "Fulfilled by Amazon" line, it means the item is stored in Amazon's warehouse, and Amazon ships it out.

So, not A&A's problem. Where's my package? Got no way of knowing. Got no clue. I didn't exactly hold out great things for them, though, aside from the fact I had to define the word "pertinent" for them. "You have made it very clear that you are unhappy with this order, but it was never really clear what you wanted us to do," the rep wrote. "What is it that you would have us do?"

For starters, I want to reply, I'd love to hear you play the bagpipes!

Looking closer at their 98% feedback rating, though, I discovered something strange. Though Amazon is responsible for the order, all the customer ratings -- between 1 and 5 stars -- go to Alive & Aware. And then the negative ratings are excluded from the feedback score. Appended is the comment, "This item was fulfilled by Amazon, and we take responsibility for this fulfillment experience."

So, if you're happy with the service, the subcontractor gets positive feedback. If you're not, Amazon says it was their fault and deletes it.

Presto! All of Amazon's subcontractors have ratings above 98%.

Personally, I think this is fraud. If you don't delete the negative feedback, A&A's score drops substantially. Maybe 1 in 10 customers are pissed off, including me. Still, I've got to give Amazon some grudging admiration. "All our subcontractors are terrific companies," they're crowing. "If you ignore all the negative feedback, everybody just has nice things to say."

Wal-Mart is introducing a cell phone plan called the Wal-Mart Family Mobile service. Unlimited calling and texting will cost $45 per month for the first line and $25 for each additional line.

Actually, I've already got this, and it's not good. Every time I try to make a call, some guy comes on and says, "Hey, slacker, get back to freakin' work!"

Monday, September 13, 2010

UC Davis researchers have started a website that maps California roadkill.

Volunteers comb the state’s roads for dead animals, collecting species information and GPS coordinates, and upload it to the California Roadkill Observation System. A Google map loaded with dots shows the accidents, and a gruesome gallery includes photos of flattened squirrels and squashed skunks.

The founders hope to soon hire a software engineer to design a smartphone app.

When it's an app, I'm definitely downloading it. I mean, tacos just don't fill themselves.

The N.F.L. is investigating the Jets’ behavior with a woman who was working as a reporter at Jets practice on Saturday. The reporter, Inés Sainz of TV Azteca, a Mexican television network, was reportedly harassed by players and coaches during practice and in the locker room.

This stinks. Football players never harass me, and I spend hours painting on my clothes.

The Part of the Email That Convinced Me I Was Really Getting $6,000,000 From Alexander McQueen's Will

Being a widely travelled man, he must have been in contact with you in the past or simply you were recommended to him by one of his numerous friends abroad who wished you good and his friend was a gay as well due to the fact that McQueen was a gay.
27-year-old Robert Nickson Jr.'s wedding plans were ruined this week after authorities talked with his 14-year-old fiancée.

Nickson and his intended bride say they knew what they were doing was illegal, but they "didn't think they would get caught."

So how did the cops hear about the nuptials? The couple posted photos on Facebook along with status updates saying they were engaged.

This was bound to end badly. You should never, ever agree to marry somebody just to get out of your parents' house, even if she has a Hello Kitty bunk bed.

Tired of the Ring Cycle? How about the Qeb bI'reS? A Dutch company has written, arranged and now premiered what it is calling the first ever Klingon opera, inspired by the fictional species from the Star Trek universe. Replacing Tristan and Isolde with Kahless the Unforgettable, the production features a Klingon story with Klingon lyrics and Klingon singers.

Maybe you'll enjoy this, but I saw a preview and left during the aria, "I Sh'oT tHe WaB b'It."

Still, nobody sings like that Luciano Shatner.

Andre Leon Talley's life devolved into slapstick comedy at a fashion show where observers sat on bleacher-style benches. Vogue's wearer of capes was apparently seated at the end of one bench when "Everyone got up really quickly, and he's a large man, left alone at one end, so the bench acted like a seesaw." He landed on his side on the floor.

After he found an exploding cigarette mixed in with his Gauloises and a whoopee cushion sewn into the ass of his chinchilla shorts, he thought maybe it wasn't just coincidence.