Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Netflix, here I come!!!
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Anyway... Twilight's Robert Pattinson, always someone you can count on for crazy lettuce/sex hair, made millions of tween girls and fanilows weep as he jumped on the buzzcut bandwagon this weekend. Hmmm... still looks a bit like a sexy hobo. Thousands of unicorns, fauns and fairies were killed upon the deforestation of their natural habitat.
Winter Parking Olympics Photo courtesy of Big Brother, the best photojournalism correspondent a blogging girl could ever have.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
But the little boy's father, Heath Campbell, said it was unfair of ShopRite supermarket to turn down his request.
Heath Campbell said he named his son after Adolf Hitler because he liked the name and because "no one else in the world would have that name".
"The kid isn't going to grow up and do what Hitler did."
But the problem does not stop there.
The shop has also refused to make a cake for Mr Campbell's second child, who turns two next February.
Her name is JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell.
Heath and Deborah Campbell's third child will probably not get a cake from that shop either.
The eight-month-old baby has been named Honszlynn Hinler Jeannie Campbell, apparently a reference to one of the Nazi's most monstrous leaders, SS head Heinrich Himmler.
For the time being, the matter has been settled - the Campbells had their cake made by Wal-Mart.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
But that is exactly what the owners of Ernest - a 15-year-old black and white cat - have found themselves doing.
And from these pictures the elderly moggie looks like he has plenty to purr about after the lens have transformed him from a squinting cat unable to see where he was going."
Go buy one!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
I saw this on Geekologie, and felt the need to post it for all my non-Geekologie readers. On one hand, this falls into the scary category of masks, clowns and mascots, on the other I can't stop laughing at it. Those crazy zoologists! (You thought I was going to make an Asian joke, didn't you? Admit it.)
It's important to be prepared for a rhino attack at all times, but I can't help thinking that the beast in question would be slightly more fleet of foot. I definitely think we wouldn't have time to raise the volleyball nets.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
My weight is a battle I am ever waging. I have a vision that the day my thighs drop the saddlebags and the jiggling of my upper arms no longer causes the butterfly effect, I will magically meet any one of my imaginary boyfriends (Lee Pace, I'm looking at you tonight), and he will fall in love with me instantly, from across a crowded room. Naturally, as we're walking towards each other, eyes alight with finding our soul mate in each other, a giant, many-tentacled alien will destroy the planet. Such is my luck.
Wait, where was I? Oh right... I'm fat. Anyway, I've been hanging with the peeps at Jenny Craig lately, and have been losing some weight. Yay! The downside, people have eyeballs. When people notice things, they love to talk about the things they notice. Somehow, in the Great American Lexicon of Poor Manners, I missed the chapter that a change in your appearance becomes an open invitation to random passersby to dissect your personal style.
I am completely flabbergasted by the nerve of my co-workers- indeed, some people with whom I have NEVER spoken- to come up to me and discuss not only my weight, but my hair (color, cut, whether I wear it up or down), my makeup (my particular favorite was being called "dewy, but too heavy on the eyemakeup"), whether I look better with glasses or contacts, the clothes that I wear, the collection of shoes under my desk, what I eat ("is that Jenny approved?" Who knows? Keep working on those curly fries). It's like working on a noticeable flaw gives people carte-blanche to point out everything that is wrong with you. Settle down people, I'm rehabbing the kitchen, not rebuilding the house.
Throughout these overweening conversations, I inexplicably find myself dumbstruck, smiling and trying to explain my fashion choices to my meddling turkey of a conversant. Why of course I DO look better with my hair down. You're right, I should go and buy hairdye tonight! Better yet, I'll do it at lunch!
It's only after these overfamiliar exchanges have taken place and the intrusive peck has walked away from my desk that I feel the sting of the back-handed insult buried in there.
It brings me to ask, if this is you with a filter, what are you really thinking? However, I often wonder whether or not people really do have a filter when it comes to situations like this. People genuinely think they are being helpful, and tact doesn't come into play when giving unsolicited advice. People blurt out whatever alights on the gentle breezes of their minds.
For all my self-righteous indignation, I'm no exception. I am an overly-opinionated bossy boots with enough knowledge to talk about anything, and abounding gall to fake what I don't know. So where does this verbal diarrhea come from? Why do we feel compelled to say whatever is on our minds about how others live their peaceable existences, without any regard for what is likely a carefully thought out personal choice?
Simple- we always think we're right. It is human nature to judge others by our own pushy, self-assertive life code. It is inconceivable to think that others live by an equally effective, though disparate set of choices/values/plans. This is the delicate eggshell-thin construct of our own EGO. We are constantly checking the mental checklist of our life (choices, actions, experiences) against those of other people. Are we normal? Are we appropriate? Are we right?
Deep down, I know that most people don't have vicious intentions when scrutinizing every aspect of my being. For most, it is a message of solidarity, their way of showing that they are supportive of my lame attempts at self-improvement. I just wish that I could be going through rehab or something less noticeable... maybe then Joyce would keep her hands to herself and not pull the top of my shirt up: "You're a pretty girl. You don't need to rely on your tits. Cover those up."
I am delighted about the "food = love" concept of Pushing Daisies. Food is often a substitute for sex between Chuck and Ned, but the theme of unrequited love and the need for, well, comfort food was back and stronger than ever in this episode as Olive and Ned compete for the Best In Belly prize at the Comfort Food Competition. This show has layers, people, like the delicate flaky crust of the PieMaker's speciality.
Anyway, enough gabbing about PD. On to mocking celebrities!!! It seems Pete from Fall Out Boy was destined to be a theme this week... first I give him a shout out regarding his name cameo on One Tree Hill (though JAX did point out that he did have a few appearances on the show), and now he's in the news dishing about the fact that his lady love Ashlee Simpson is a vapid whore that he'd have left in his tiny-man dust cloud if he hadn't knocked her up.
"And then there's the ultimate brand extension, the one guaranteed to propel Wentz into a whole new sphere of exposure: Bronx Mowgli Wentz, the son he and his wife, Ashlee Simpson, welcomed into the world on November 20. When Wentz found out Simpson was pregnant, he was in Chile with Fall Out Boy, preparing to play a show in nearby Antarctica. "I was like, 'Oh my God, this might be the worst possible time to have this conversation,'" he says. Perhaps to make sure the news had sunk in, Simpson promptly e-mailed a snapshot of the pregnancy test. (Us Weekly, eat your heart out). "I was definitely scared," Wentz says, "just thinking, This is something that's going to exist for the rest of your life and you can't f*%k it up."
Wentz allows that the pregnancy was unplanned. 'It was a happy accident,' he says. 'But I think that certain things happen for a reason in your life, and maybe it was time to put the wild child in a cage.'"
Then just yesterday, while riding downstairs in my elevator at work, I saw a quote from him regarding being on the red carpet with NoseJob McGee:
"It's like I'm like her purse."
Wow- that's love. Soul mates, indeed. Of course, he is a Wilmette-bred New Trier boy... this sort of resigned WASP acceptance of a loveless marriage "for the kids" fits his upbringing to a T.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
You should have taken a page from One Tree Hill's book. They stunt casted people's NAMES. Remember when they kept throwing Pete from Fall Out Boy's name into the script? I don't even think he was ever on the SHOW and they managed to do a better job than you. They didn't even use his full name- they just kept calling him Pete from Fall Out Boy!!
Incidentally... Snowflake Charity Ball as the Page Six event of the season for high school seniors?? Hardly! It looked like 40 bored extras badly dancing in a sound stage. Your barwork is usually so much better than this tripe. Where are the hangers on? The velvet ropes? The entrance scenes, showing the un-invited rabble?
I also am perplexed by the "cruel prank" that Jenny pulled on Vanessa (by the way, J's eyeliner is starting to lighten up... back from rebel territory, after all?). Surely your writers could have come up with something better than Vanessa being backlit in a dress with *GASP* no lining! Come on- Britney Spears shows more vag than that while waiting in line at the Starbucks for crying out loud!
I'm feeling underwhelmed, GG. I didn't fight for dual tuner Tivo only to have you get all sweet and moral on me here. Let's do better next week. It DOES look like there's a funeral, and the hint that Chuck may be involved in his father's death, so you're showing some promise... let's not disappoint, ok?
Monday, December 1, 2008
'I'm going to get married next year and have babies. Watch!'
She later told how when she falls in love she 'can't get enough' and 'gives my all' to her man.
'That's my thing. When I really love somebody I really love somebody. I give my all.
'I can't get enough. I need to be around them all the time.
Britney teased she will eventually write a tell-all autobiography, saying: 'I will have a good book one day, a good mysterious book.'
She insisted she has no regrets - and told how she is avoiding the 'threatening situations' that have caused her such turmoil, declaring: 'I go through life like a Karate Kid.'
But the 'Toxic' singer broke down in tears as she lamented her 'lonely' life, despite apparently putting her public meltdown behind her.
She told how she feels too controlled and said: 'You can't really go there in a complete state of happiness because you're scared it's going to be taken away.'So it's better just not to feel anything at all and to have hope to feel the other way....
'When I tell people the way I feel they hear me, but they're really not listening.
'They hear what they want to hear. They don't really listen to what I'm telling them.
She started to sob as she added: 'It's bad. I'm sad.'
It's a rare show that doesn't become formulaic and lazy, and Pushing Daisies continues to surprise me with each episode. While we usually know the "killah-killah" from the beginning of the episode, the writers of the show continue to delight me with how they manage to bump people off, and the slowly unfolding mystery of Ned and Chuck's fathers and their relationship with Dwight Dixon has me wondering. The show's simple, goofy, deliciously naughty moments delight me ("stakeouts are only fun if there are enough binoculars for everyone", the comment about Emerson Cod's tight balls... of yarn, Ned's complete oblivion to key parties), and the subtle jokes abound, and there are always a few that I find myself laughing about 10 minutes after they've aired-such as the brief(and entirely non-verbal) moment where the Pie Maker realizes just what the dead millionaire meant by "trophy room".
There's a part of me that doesn't want to finish watching the show, knowing that I will only be incredibly disappointed by an unsatisfactory ending to the several character arcs that have begun to bloom on the show. Naturally there's a much larger part of me that wants to smack that unloyal, nasty part of myself about the face, and I know that not only will I loyally finish out the season, I'll most likely be buying the DVD when it comes out.
Oh well. Screw originality on TV. When looking for something new to take Pushing Daisies place in my own personal TV lineup, I can only hope that we'll get a new procedural crime drama soon. I sure could use another one... I'm by no means satisfied with just CSI, CSI: Miami, CSI: New York, Law and Order, Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, Law and Order: Criminal Intent, Criminal Minds, NCIS, Without a Trace, Cold Case, The Mentalist, The Unit, Eleventh Hour, Life On Mars, Numbers, Bones, Fringe, My Own Worst Enemy.