We have endless patience, we salad dressing purchasers. We examine the article. We're mildly annoyed that the first ingredient is simply called "oil," because there are four thousand varieties at the local supermarket and another few dozen at the gas station. We're somewhat peeved that the second ingredient is "acid," because we didn't realize that before dinner we'd have to take a hammer to a Duracell. Yes, that's certainly easier than heading to the neighborhood grocery and looking for a picture of Paul Newman.
But we're dumbfounded that the third ingredient is "Other stuff."
"Other stuff." You know: stuff that isn't oil or acid. To the casual reader this category seems to include things like frozen buffalo burgers, Quorn, and leftover hash browns.
The examples they give of "Other stuff" are "[m]ustard, jam/preserves, herbs (parsley, basil, etc.), garlic, shallots, ginger, soy sauce, tahini." Really, Homemade Dressing Enthusiasts? Call me crazy, but "other stuff" really shouldn't be thought of as one ingredient considering with a pound of hamburger and tomato paste you can MAKE CHILI OUT OF IT.
It's weird these Homemade Dressing Advocates aim their patronizing assistance at complete kitchen incompetents -- of whom I'm a proud member -- yet complete kitchen incompetents can easily end up with plumber's putty following their recipe. How about if I throw together sesame oil, red wine vinegar, and grape jam? Sound like something you'd like to drizzle on arugula? How about truffle oil, lemon juice and mint jelly? Mmm -- that'll certainly add some interest to a boring iceberg wedge.
The article blithely assures us that these will be delicious. Just whisk the three ingredients together, and -- Ta-dah! Salad dressing.
Oh, and when it's done, they say, add salt, pepper, and a sweetener, because ACID, you know?
Anyway, thanks again, Homemade Dressing Devotees. Once again you've foisted your totally-unhelpful message upon an unsuspecting world. Me, I'm going to continue whipping up salads with packaged lettuce and bottled dressing and then I'm going to make a little pile of things you can jam up your ass. Just two things, I think: a carrot, a candle, an iPod loaded with the complete discography of Sheryl Crow and an unopened game of Clue.
Mr. Farrow didn't come across well as a guest on The Daily Show. I'm not won over by 26-year-olds who don't stop talking when Jon Stewart starts. He didn't seem to have a personality. It's why I don't like Michael Phelps or Ryan Lochte. It's nice they're successful and all, but at some point all of my friends have attempted to do their own laundry.
Mr. Farrow tried to spin himself as a community activist, and said his new TV program would be all about getting people mobilized. When I tuned in to his new MSNBC show, though, I saw nothing of the sort. Just look at the set:
On the wall behind him, half the words come from Mr. Farrow's résumé. "Rhodes Scholar," "Yale Law School," "Lawyer," "Diplomat," "Published Author." I wondered what Mother Teresa's set would have said. "Chastity," "Bed Pans," "Robe Aficionado." I sense a bit of résumé inflation. "Published author" makes me think of books, but apparently it refers to magazine articles, including a smug piece he wrote for W about Miley Cyrus. The "Published" qualifier seems desperate, considering anybody with Mia, Woody and/or Frank for parents could get forty pages in Bon Appetit just for jotting down their thoughts on chicken. They should throw up the words "Renaissance Man" too, because I don't know another Diplomat who'd be asked to interview a young lady who rides a giant sausage at work.
The other words are about community activism. There's "Participate," "Protest," "Rally," "Mobilize." Which is kind of a weird message to be shouted by a set that stole its color scheme from a Members Only jacket. I don't know about you, but I'm reluctant to take advice from the waiting room at a children's hospital, even if it's only telling me to eat more apples and wash behind my ears. Yes, a tangerine and teal set is exhorting the viewer to riot. Because the revolution will take place after a wine tasting. Isn't this amazing cheese?
I watched a documentary the other day about winemaking. Grape-growers often take aerial photos of the vineyards so they can see which plants get enough water and which plants don't. The goal is to NOT give them enough water -- because plants that are stressed and have to struggle yield grapes that have more depth.
It smacked me like a fish in the kisser: the most perfect metaphor for gay people EVER. Mr. Farrow? Overwatered until he just couldn't be bothered with that whole "grape" thing. It's weird that a kid originally named after a spunky, barrier-breaking black man -- he was given the name "Satchel" by his baseball-loving dad -- turned out to be a loaf of Wonder bread. No wonder he changed it. It's like a Supreme Court justice named Chastity Brown.
I'm sure dude can go on to do wonderful things, but I'm not holding out hope. In fact, it almost makes me nostalgic for Ryan Lochte. He peaked early and didn't have any depth, but he knew his limitations. He looked hot and kept saying "Jeah!" Say what you want about stupid people, but I'll bet it never would have occurred to him to have "Gold Medallist" scrawled across Asia, or "Swim Some Laps" on Swaziland.
“I feel like ‘embattled’ or ‘disgraced’ will always follow my name. It’s like that black football player who recently came out. He said, ‘I just want to be known as a football player. I don’t want to be known as a gay football player.’ I know exactly what he’s saying. I’m fighting to get my name back." Paula Deen, speaking to People MagazineI'm pretty sure she started off meaning Michael Vick but halfway through she got all black men confused in her head.
(The story is here, but first you've got to sit through the gold-medal winner in the Idiotic Insurance Company Commercials category. "At Liberty Mutual we believe that with every setback there's a chance to come back, and rise." Wow. You know, I never thought about it like that. It's not a disaster: it's a challenge! C'MON, FLOODS! C'MON FAMINE! DESTROY MY HOUSE, CRASH MY CAR, KILL MY DOG! I WANT OPPORTUNITY TO KNOCK!)
It's about time, I thought. I've had it up to here with "intellectuals." They're all "time travel" and "curing cancer" and "I'll take Katy Perry Videos for $1600, Alex." Almost immediately I started picturing the AFA putting these pantywaists in their place:
AFA: You're supposed to be smart people, so how do you believe in evolution? Don't you know about the word of God?I knew this DVD was going to be great. I mean, filmmaker Ray Comfort sounds like an amazing guy. He boldly put his money where his mouth is by offering $10,000 to anyone who produced a "transitional fossil" proving evolution actually took place. Scientists are always saying humans come from a long line of lesser animals, so surely there had to be at least one that showed a lizard giving birth to a dog, or a sheep giving birth to a chicken. Did any "scientist" ever collect the cash? Obviously not!LIBERAL PROFESSORS: Not really. We work for major universities where Bibles are forbidden. Isn't there something about a garden? Making the universe in six days and resting on the seventh?
AFA: Here it is, in black and white. Read this and behold the glory of God!
[FIVE MINUTES LATER]
LIBERAL PROFESSORS: OHMIGOSH! WE DIDN'T KNOW! LORD HAVE MERCY ON THOSE OF US WHO STUDIED THE EFFECTS OF TRANSMORPHISM ON INNATE MACROPHAGE INSTEAD OF SINGING YOUR PRAISE!
He still sells an ersatz million-dollar bill that's inscribed with a lecture on what's really important in life -- spoiler: God! -- despite the fact that at least one of his followers read his words and then tried to deposit the bill in her bank account. I think he printed up more, though, after the FBI left.
Maybe I'm mean, but even before I got the DVD I decided to email the "liberal professors" who appear in it and shove their faces in humiliation. It's people like these that have made me feel stupid ever since I got a D on a high school biology test for saying the three forces that enable birds to fly are acceleration, drag, and Jesus wind. It was time for the tables to turn!
Hi --I don't know why all the liberals sent nice replies, because there's no way God's letting unbelievers into heaven's VIP seats. "All I can say in response to your query," said Professor Gail Kennedy of UCLA, "is that I stopped believing in god about the same time I stopped believing in the easter bunny and the tooth fairy."I got the attached email from the American Family Association advertising their DVD "Evolution Vs. God: Shaking the Foundations of Faith." What piece of evidence did the filmmakers give you about God that in particular rattled every preconceived notion you had? Is the word "dumbfounded" appropriate here to describe your reaction? Thesaurus.com also offers "bamboozled," "staggered" and "thunderstruck," but there's "gobsmacked" if you're European.
Thank you for your attention to this matter,
RomanHans
"I was only dumbfounded in the sense that I found Ray very dumb," said Professor Paul Myers of the University of Minnesota.
"No, I never had my faith 'shaken,' said Professor Peter Nonacs of UCLA, "as there is actually no evidence AGAINST evolution presented in the DVD."
Now it was my turn to be dumbfounded. These "professors" weren't quivering in their boots, desperate to repent from their years of education so God wouldn't smite them dead? I couldn't believe it. Just because they had studied for years and were trying to help the world through education they were still acting like they were better than me, whose blog is read by dozens. What about how stupid they looked in the DVD?
"I was really burned by [R]ay [C]omfort's malicious editing," said Professor Kennedy.
"His arguments were ridiculous, and I laughed at them & rejected them," said Professor Myers. "[A]ll of that was edited out of the final product, of course."
"I don't know if you caught last week's 'Ham on Nye' creationism debate," said Professor Nonacs, "but that debate would be like "Evolution vs. God" if you basically let Ken Ham's presentations be broadcast in their entirety, but left everything Bill Nye said on the cutting room floor, except for his comments about his bowtie and what his favorite color is."
My entire world view shook. Was it possible? What sort of topsy-turvy world was this where Christians lied and atheists told the truth? Or was I being bamboozled by these hucksters' slick arguments? I turned to Mr. Comfort's supporters for the last word.
“Evolution Vs. God reveals evolution only exists in the minds of the evolutionist and their students!” said Jim Bob Duggar. Sigh; I should have expected wise words from the TLC reality star who let God determine the size of his family. Though I'm glad God didn't determine the size of his bladder or we'd all be up to our necks in piss.
"WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!! BLEW ME AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!" said Randy Jones, President of Word of Truth Ministry and, I think, also Village People cowboy.
“Ray Comfort does it again! With simplicity and keen insight on the streets, he pulls back the curtain of Evolution and reveals that the Great Wizard of Darwinism is just an insecure little man with a dream of becoming a god.” said Kirk Cameron.
Once again my heart was full. My faith was coming back. I mean, Kirk Cameron built a whole career out of nothing more than being cute enough to cash in, so he was clearly someone I could believe. "Great Wizard of Darwinism" indeed! I laughed as I pictured the Cowardly Lion replaced by a sheep giving birth to a chicken and realized that intelligence had absolutely no place in my life. In fact, I'm going to write back to these "professors" and tell them a thing or two. I mean, sure, they acted perfectly nice to me, but I know God has got my back so I don't have to.
After they'd both confirmed that success is the inevitable result of hard work, the host ran off onto a tangent. Chobani is an official Olympic sponsor, she noted. Is it because Olympic athletes, like Chobani's founder, have also made something out of nothing? Have been born hopeless and penniless and used nothing but their own blood, sweat and tears to become modern-day American heroes?
Mr. Ulukaya was too modest to reply, but I think the answer is obvious. People who work hard can make it, and people who don't make it didn't want it hard enough. Like the bobsled, though, we find our subsequent thoughts hurtling toward the border of racism, because the U. S. Winter Olympics teams are 99% white. Though the Market Makers didn't tackle that topic, it seems natural to conclude that they too think minority groups just won't put in the work.
Me, I blame the welfare state. I mean, these urban kids are so debilitated by all the free money being handed out that they can't even bother to drive to the ice rink. They're so busy keeping themselves in stylish shoes and baseball caps that they suddenly can't afford $800 for lift tickets.
If these kids had an ounce of initiative, I think they'd be surprised by how far they'd get. Their nannies probably wouldn't mind driving them to the equestrian center every day, because they could still write thank-you notes for their mistress while waiting in the Range Rover. The downstairs maid could still polish the silver in the parking lot of Trampoline Town. Instead kids are too busy tweeting and texting to even ask! The black cloud hanging over their heads precludes them from seeing that their neighbor has four thousand dollars worth of spandex. Their aunt has an disused luge track. Their cousin has a nose clip and a desire to swim exactly like them.
Now, I'm not an idiot. I know there are some kids whose parents and relatives won't just give them stuff. Where some people see a brick wall, though, I see opportunity! These kids will just have to work a little harder. Maybe they'll have to take out the trash once a week in exchange for a polo pony. Maybe they'll have to get straight As before Dad moves the family to Norway. Heck, I'll bet there are a few kids who don't even have parents! They just need extra determination. They should follow in the footsteps of Ben Franklin, who was born into poverty along with his sixteen brothers and sisters. "Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity," Ben said, and indeed he was totally prepared when his brother was thrown in jail and left him a free newspaper business. Even without family help, kids can keep plugging away at that minimum-wage job until they can afford rent, a car and food. So what if they're the only 50-year-olds at luge practice? It's just the naysayers who'll be negative. In true Olympic spirit I think the other athletes would applaud their determination and say "Welcome!" before they shatter both their hips in a bad salchow.
In closing I'd like to say that I don't think it's the insularity provided by all of my money that gives me high hopes for inner-city youth today. I know once they get their first taste of success, they'll want to thank the self-made Mr. Ulukaya for being a prime example of a man who built a bright future out of nothing. Well, and his dad, who owned a yogurt factory too.
Still, Sunday's episode had me screaming, "Oh, puh-leeze!" at the TV. Agustin has a crush on a rent boy, and they have lunch together. The prospective beau offers vegetarian Agustin a bite of his meaty lunch, and Agustin accepts just so he won't look weird. Five minutes later he's running down Folsom Street with explosive diarrhea.
Ridiculous, right? I mean, I've been in this situation before, and the truth is, his body would have been thrilled. It's gotten so exhausted from spitting out remnants of tofu and brown rice and pinto beans that it's relieved to finally spot a chunk of animal for a change. Agustin would have casually cruised down Folsom thinking, "That's weird: I haven't farted in six minutes!" as his contented stomach lovingly basted the cow parts with acid and asked, "So, are you through with all that fuckin' broccoli or what?"
Thomas Bach, the new IOC president, spoke out against discrimination at the Olympics opening ceremony, saying "it is possible ... to live together under one roof in harmony, with tolerance and without any form of discrimination for whatever reason."Yeah. Okay. Next dude will lecture about the virtues of wheelchair access from the top of a spiral staircase.
It all started during a 1998 White House screening of Saving Private Ryan, when President Clinton pulled Sizemore aside from the crowd of A-listers that included Tom Hanks, Matt Damon, Ed Burns and Dennis Farina.
Because that wouldn't look suspicious. "Hey all you A-listers and Oscar winners," President Clinton said, "you all chill while I talk to a character actor who's struggled with drug addiction since 1976."
Sizemore claims that Clinton asked if he wanted to see the Lincoln Bedroom and after shaking his Secret Service detail, the pervy President quickly made his move!
Sizemore probably thought it was a bit suspicious, but the other guests surely didn't care why Clinton and Sizemore suddenly decided they wanted to be alone.
“We walk in,” Sizemore says on the tape, when suddenly Clinton, then in his second-term of office, asked point-blank, “Did you go with Liz Hurley for four years? Do you still see her?”
Clinton's photographic memory is well-documented, but some people probably don't know he primarily used it while reading People magazine.
When Sizemore confirmed they had dated but were no longer together, he says the President asked for her number.
Say what you want about Clinton, but he'd never mack on a bro's lady on the down low. Though he was actively eavesdropping on Americans without court warrants, Clinton knew that begging a drug addict who'd just happened to drop by was the only way to get contact info for an Estée Lauder spokesmodel.
Stunned at the suggestion, Sizemore admitted to being somewhat hesitant to dole out the digits, but claims Clinton insisted: “Give it to me. You dumb motherfucker, I’m the Commander-in-Chief of the United States of America. The buck stops here. Give me the damn number.”
"You better do as I say!" Clinton threatened. "Speak softly and carry a big stick. Tippeecanoe and Tyler too. Mr. Gorbachev, tear down that wall!"
The actor obliged, but before dialing, he says the President was already covering his tracks, thinking of his oblivious and long-suffering wife Hillary in the other room. “[Clinton] said, ‘I’m going to say I asked you about your uncle, Ted Sizemore, who played professional baseball,” Sizemore recalls. “That’s the lie. Don’t forget it.’”
Clinton had to specify "Ted Sizemore" to differentiate him from Leroy, Fred and Satchel Sizemore, Tom's other baseball-playing uncles.
Then, Sizemore recounts, Clinton dialed, wasting no time in getting down to dirty business with the stunning brunette, now 48. “Elizabeth, this is your Commander-in-Chief,” Clinton said to the actress.
Clinton has always introduced himself by his occupation since he was two-year-old Turdy Pants.
And though Hurley at first thought it was a joke, she played coy, but the President wouldn’t take no for an answer! Clinton said, “Listen Elizabeth, this is the President!” Sizemore recalls. “‘I don’t have any time for this shit. I‘m keeping the world from nuclear war all the time. I’m sending a plane to pick you up.”
Liz, understanding the basic tenets of Logic, stares at the phone. "He doesn't have time for confusion, because he has to keep the world safe," she repeats. "But he's got time to send a plane to fuck a supermodel?" And still the question to fear is, "Why did you talk to Tom Sizemore?" rather than "Why did you send Air Force One to Cap d'Antibes?"
Hours later, Sizemore claims, Hurley was at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. “While we’re at the reception, I see her,” Sizemore reveals, but then she disappeared through a door, trailed by a Secret Service agent.
Bill wasn't worried about Hillary because she was trying to figure out why Tom Sizemore was still at their house eighteen hours after the screening ended.
As she disappeared into a room with the President, Sizemore charges, “Bill turns to me and he goes, ‘I owe you one.’”
Okay, I get it. Despite the fact she's just flown to the White House to be confronted by her ex-boyfriend and the President of the United States, Elizabeth Hurley's first line of dialog is apparently going to be, "Oh, yes, Bill Clinton! YESSSSSSS!!!"
As to what happened after that, Sizemore declares on the tape: “What do you think? She was there for four days.”
Sizemore misses a golden opportunity here. Me, I'd say she was secreted away in the Polk Bedroom, because that's where Clinton hid all the chicks he Polked.
Later, he recalled, “I asked her [Hurley], what was it like there?... I said was Hillary a problem? And she said ‘No, they sleep in different bedrooms....’ Bill said that, he intimated to Elizabeth that they have been, they’re in love, but they stopped [sleeping together] a long time ago and they both have separate romantic lives.”
That was important to Liz, because sure, she'd fly to the White House and follow Clinton into a secret bedroom but she wouldn't actually fuck him unless he pinky-swore that it was cool with Hillary.
As such, the steamy affair didn’t end after Hurley’s visit. Sizemore says they kept in contact for a year, until Clinton ended the sexual shenanigans because he was falling deeply in love with the charming actress, 19 years his junior.
“At a certain point, he told her, ‘I don’t do love and I’m beginning to think I might love you,’” Sizemore says.
Yup, the old "I can't see you again because I love you too much" routine marks the end of the story. We all want to high-five Bill here, but evidently neither Tom nor Liz has gotten to page one in How To Be A Playah.
What's wrong with women? They're unabashed nutcases whose frustrated maternal instincts make them desperately cling to cats when they don't have children of their own.
What's wrong with men? Idiotic women make them listen to boy bands.
