My New Year's Resolutions



1. No more politics. I'm sick of it.
2. Declutter my house. Nobody needs three copies of any book, CD or DVD.
3. Use the word fuck and its variations approximately 15 percent fewer times.
4. Match up all my socks. Nobody should have 50 unmatched orphan socks.
5. Give 40 percent of my shoes away to Goodwill.
6. Same with my clothes.
7. Update my passport.
8. Learn a lot more French.
9. Sleep 8 hours a night.
10. Lose three pounds (just keepin' it real, folks)
11. Drink more water.
12. Learn to take better photographs.
13. Make a lot more money.
14. Stop all credit card use.
15. Be more grateful.

Yours?

Hope You Had a Good One, Too



I'm home from the holidays and yes, despite of my best efforts, I am now the owner of a Snuggy--a burnt orange University of Texas Snuggy. I tried it out at Big Sis's last night and it's pretty warm, although the sleeves make for a straitjacket effect I did not dig. Big Sis eventually wangled it away from me, leaving me to have to nuzzle under a leopard skin doggy blanket her dog Dixi was not using at the moment.
Last night we watched some great TV, but my night was ruined when an HBO Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame concert was marred by Aretha Franklin's fat ass doing a duet with my all time idol Annie Lennox, who appeared wearing a black "HIV Positive" T-shirt.
"Whaaaat?" I asked Big Sis and My Sharona.
"Yep, she's HIV+ positive, we Googled it."
"No fucking way," I growled.
"Way," they replied.
Turns out they were el wrongo, but I went to sleep last night so very sad that my girl was having to take a pile of anti-AIDS meds. I've already lost too many people to AIDS, I could hardly bear to lose my idol.
I Googled it myself when I got home. She's HIV negative.
Anyway, we spent the day at Big Bro's house in the country by the lake. He invited almost 15 people over for dinner and it was almost a clusterfuck except that everyone was cool and he'd made some kind of demon punch that liquored us all up but good.
I got some lovely gifts...a snazzy new coffeemaker and gold filter, an Amazon gift card, some cash, a gorgeous black scarf with a bronze border, a laptop computer, a door mat with severe cat scratch marks on it, and of course the Snuggy.
With the Amazon card, I scored a new Nikon Coolpics digital camera, so that's gonna be great to shlep around rather than my 2-pound Sony megapiggy digital.
Though I definitely lucked out with gifts, the true gift was having fun with my sibs and our assorted family members and friends.
The food was fantastic wherever I picked up a fork.
Life is good.
How was yours? Do tell.

Cheezus Christ on a Cracker!
Christmas is Upon Us.



The best thing about this Christmas is that it signals an end to this annus horribilis.
I started the year being ripped off for more than $4,000 in salary by my disreputable ex-boss, having some so-called friends trying to avoid paying me the $5,000 they owed me, credit card companies casually toying with my accounts to screw me and favor them, becoming disillusioned with our new president, growing bored with politics, losing interest in chasing women, losing Princess Sparkle Pony's blog, having to spend more than $1,500 on demolishing my garage, developing rather chronic Achilles tendinitis, my coffee maker and mixer breaking in the same week, and finally, my kitten Baby Jake having to be euthanized.
I'm pretty damn ready for 2009 to be over.
But the good thing about the season is having a loving family and loyal friends, new clients that pay promptly and like my work, two healthy and happy kitties, down-filled pillows and high thread count sheets, well managed diabetes, the return of Princess Sparkle Pony as Peteykins, all my Christmas shopping done and a strong, albeit dampened spirit.
My wish for all of you: a blessed Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Ramadan and a ring-a-ding-dong Festivus.
To my best online bloggy friends Evan, Fran, Dusty, Nonnie, Mary and Katie--I love you mutts.
My advice: love those who love you and avoid those who don't. Steer clear of drama. Cultivate a love for your own company and cherish the solitude. Read more. Eat deliciously. Blog more. Comment more. Laugh more. Love more.

Happy Holidays to all.

KarenZipdrive

*illustration by my BFF Elaine. Thanks, wanks.

These Things Come in Threes



The untimely death of starlet Brittany Murphy can only mean one thing.
Soon, two larger stars also will pass away.
From what I've read about death, many choose to make their crossing this time of year, or earlier in the fall. Why, I don't know. Maybe things just fall away in the fall.
Anyway, in the world of celebrity, these things always come in threes.
Who do you think is next?
I was thinking maybe Elizabeth Taylor or Kirk Douglas.
I don't count Oral Roberts or Baby Jake. One was a douche bag and the other was a kitty.

Baby Jake Zipdrive
Dec. 10, 2007--Dec. 19, 2009




My youngest kitty Baby Jake was euthanized today by my kindly veterinarian.
He had rapid onset liver failure, and the vet saw no way to save him. I held him and petted him as she injected him with go-to-sleep meds.
Thirty seconds later, he was gone. She put his head on a little towel and covered him with a soft blue blanket after he had passed. I kissed his little head goodbye and the vet, her assistant and I hugged and cried.
Two years is not a long life, but he had a happy one filled with toys, two big brothers who always played gently with him, and a mama who loved him very much.
Godspeed, little man.

Yeah, Same Here

Yeecch.



Between Barack Obama turning out to be just one more mediocre politician and the Senate and Congress continuing to screw American taxpayers at every turn, politics is no longer interesting to me. Not only is my continued membership in the Democratic party questionable, even the idea of voting has turned into an exercise in futility.

That leaves pop culture to blog about, but I'm sick of that, too.
Between Tiger the Fuck Woods and the endless glut of reality "stars" clogging the media, it's come down to this: Who cares?

I recall when Huffington Post first started, I couldn't wait to wake up every morning and read it from end to end. Now it's just crap piled atop more crap.
Same with the evening line-up at MSNBC. I can't watch it anymore because I'm sick of being sick and tired with the way things are.

I'm glad I have a happy, loving family and a few loyal friends who are still fun to be around. We've adjusted our Christmas plans to focus less on material crap and more on just being together. The simplicity and lack of drama feels very nice.

What about you? Are you feeling burnt out on external stuff too?

He's Back!

Look to the right, at my blogroll. Locate Peteykin's Junk Drawer. Click n' enjoy.
Princess Sparkle Pony might be gone, but Petey's back. YAY.

Things I Do Not Want For Christmas

Why the Tiger Woods Story Will Stick Around



News stories must meet at least some of the criteria for publishing called news values.
These include:
Celebrity
Wealth
Sex
Oddity
Proximity
Race
As you can see, Tiger and his errant penis meet all these criteria.
Proximity is included because he's played golf in nearly all our hometowns, so he's therefore stayed at our local hotels where he potentially screwed one or more of our local cocktail waitresses and/or call girls.
The more of these news values the story has, the longer "legs" it has.
So you can plan on months more of Tiger the Whore news, which will eventually die down until he appears in public again.
Now that prescription drugs may be involved, he might start losing sponsors. Gatorade has already dumped its Tiger-inspired beverage.
And somehow I doubt that Nike's "Just Do It" campaign meant fucking around on one's wife.

The Top Secret Diary of Tiger Woods



Dec. 4

Holy shit! My lips are still swollen from the beating Elin gave me with that 3-iron.
New rule: never take two Ambien and fall asleep with a pissed off Viking on the loose.
What a day I've had.
I snuck outside and hid in the Border Collie's house with my cell phone and called at least 12 women and asked them to have their guy friends record new voicemail messages for their phones. That oughtta fool the Viking.
I've also ordered a 10-carat diamond ring for her and a necklace that spells out "My Bad" in diamonds. Kobe gave me the name of his jeweler.
My food has been tasting funny lately, so I asked Elin why and she said "saltpeter." It must be some kind of nutritional supplement and it tastes like ass, but I don't dare complain or she'll tee up my face again.
Meanwhile, every hoochie I've ever screwed has come out of the woodwork to blab about affairs we had. I should have given all of them roofies so their memories would be shot, but no, I had to be the good guy.
I got a note from Buick thanking me for not crashing one of their shitmobiles into that tree. Ha Ha, very funny.
I might have to buy a burka so I can go out in public without being smothered by the paparazzi. I'm sure Elin would love seeing me in one of those, plus it would cover up the electronic ankle bracelet and GPS locator she slapped on me.
I've started getting used to peeing with my dick Superglued to my leg, but it's still a little tricky.
I spoke to my lawyer Bob and he's going ahead with the plan to send Sarah Palin a check for $100k to start saying lots of even stupider stuff to keep her face in the news.
Also, Bob is looking into financing a sex tape for the DC party crashers, introducing Levi Johnston to Miley Cyrus, and finding someone to dope up Robert Pattinson so they can shoot nude pics of him with another dude.
Bob's been a really good guy thru all this. I'm starting to feel bad about banging his wife.
Speaking of banging chicks, Elin has fired the nanny, all the maids and the newspaper delivery girl because she's suspicious of all of them. What could I say? I mean, it's not like I haven't screwed all of them.
The main thing is, I'm glad Elin has decided against divorcing me. She told me if we got a divorce I could keep my clubs, but she'd definitely get my balls. Ouch!

Party Crashers: A Microcosm of America



I wanted to let the news of the party crashers at Obama's first State Dinner sink in before I wrote about it.
Something about it was eating at me, and now I know what it is.
America has become one big, crappy reality show.
Everyone wants to be a fucking star without accomplishing anything noteworthy.
Tareq and Michaele Salahi, the scumbag, quasi-socialites who snuck into the White House pulled it off because the staff that should have been working the event were hobnobbing like they were invited guests.
A news reporter had to tell the Secret Service that the Salahis were not on the list of invitees. Yes, a news reporter had her eye on the ball while Michelle Obama's social secretary Desirée Rogers was acting like the belle of the ball.
That too-chummy bitch needs to be fired yesterday, friend of Michelle's or not.
Did you see the picture of Michaele with Joe Biden? Click on the photo above to enlarge it.
She had her hand on his chest like they were dating!
Where has common decorum gone?
Were the Secret Service guys off drinking Chardonnay and munching hors d'oeuvres while the party crashers were mauling the bigwigs?
I'm starting to think Obama has some kind of weird death wish. The Salahis could have easily grabbed a knife or fork off one of the dinner tables and jabbed him in the neck.
He and the First Lady seem to lack the kind of authoritarian presence that would strike fear into the hearts of people like Desirée Rogers.
I've worked in public relations and event planning.
At a formal dinner, the PR and staff people are supposed to watch things like a hawk. They do not socialize. They do not prance, or preen, or pose.
Andrew Cunanan, the guy who murdered Gianni Versace, was a lot like the Salahis. Author Dominick Dunne wrote about Cunanan in his book, "Another City, Not My Own."
He was a two-bit gay hustler with a taste for grandeur and fame. When he lived in Hollywood, he crashed every party and social event he could find.
The Salihis couldn't quite make the cut for "The Real Housewives of Washington, DC," but they had no problem at all breezing into the White House.
They are like the balloon boy's parents.
They are Jon and Kate.
They are the Kardashians.
They are Tiger and Elin Woods.
They are David Hasselhoff.
And now the Obamas have joined the reality TV genre.
The White House has become a backdrop. Desirée Rogers is a co-star, and so is the dimwitted Secret Service.

This is what America has become. God help us.

Is Puff Daddy/P Diddy/Puffy Combs Kidding?



I hate this ad.
I mean, who is this guy?
I can't name or even hum even one song he's ever recorded. He's supposed to be some kind of mogul, but what's behind all the hype?
He reminds me of Kanye West, who has a thin, reedy, off-key singing voice that would be useless without massive amounts of autotune.
I think Will.i.am from the Blackeyed Peas has more talent in his shoe than both these social climbing nitwits.
This ad is called "P Diddy's Ratpack" ad.
Ratpack? Could he possibly mean the Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr., Peter Lawford ratpack? Is he kidding?
I heard P Diddy/Puffy/whatever just shelled out $3 million for his 40th birthday party on a Thursday night at the Plaza hotel in NYC. He had the dance floor and chandeliers painted black. He wore sunglasses all night. At the entrance of the hotel was a tent erected to screen attendees, but it was such a clusterfuck, by 10 p.m. only a few people had found their way into the ballroom. Martha Stewart and Theo Huxtable got in. Registered hotel guests were inadvertantly allowed to drift in and out. I wonder if the Real Housewives of New York City got in? I'm sure they must have been invited.
For 3 million dollars, he could have opened an academy for inner city kids. He could have fed 10,000 people for a year or more in Darfur or Ethiopia. He could have spent that money in a way that would make me think he was anything but a self indulgent drip. But he didn't.
I read somewhere that he owns a large share of Ciroc vodka.
I've never tried it.
I like Gray Goose myself, but I'm pretty sure someone could slip me a generic store brand vodka in a mixed drink and I wouldn't know the difference.
Ultra premium vodka is just a phrase made up by an ad agency's creative department so the exhorbitant price will seem justified.
If I got invited to a $3 million party Puff Diddy/Daddy was throwing, and the biggest stars there were Martha Stewart and the Huxtable kid, I think I'd laugh my ass off.
P Diddy/Puff Daddy/Puffy/Sean Combs is a clown with too much money and excellent hype. He's the Kanye West of obnoxiousness.

Why I Love Kittens

What's Black & White and Black & Blue?



In case you missed Wanda Sykes' hilarious take on Tiger Woods "car accident," I'll tell you my theory since it matches hers to the letter.
1. The National Enquirer ran a story about Tigie steppin' out on the little woman with some bimbo.
2. The missus confronted Tigie and he did what all men do: denied, denied, denied.
3. Unhappy with his equivocating, the missus went Viking on him and started punching him in the chops, giving him a fat lip and drawing some blood.
4. Tigie knew he didn't want to go O.J. on her, so he beat feet out to his Escalade and attempted to get the hell outta there, even though it was after 2 a.m.
5. As he was backing out, the missus ran out and said, "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"
6. Not quick enough on the draw, Tigie paused long enough for the missus to take a 9-iron to the Escalade's back window.
7. Panicking, Tigie hit the gas and ended up hitting a tree and fire hydrant, just at the end of his driveway.
8. As he lay dazed and confused, the wifey ran out to beat him a little more, but at the last minute she thought, "uh oh, big scandal=less sponsorship money," so she wised up and hatched a crappy cover story with her poor, beaten hubby.

No way did she use a 9-iron to free him from the wreckage. Who'd free a trapped Escalade driver by beating out the back window that's a good 8 feet from the driver's seat? Come on, you two.
Tiger probably got caught stepping out, the wife beat on him and he tried to outrun her and freaked out in a panic.
Dodging the police for three days isn't helping any.
He might play great golf, but as a liar he sucks.

Pour Jacqueline et Sonia, avec l'amour et la misère noire*

I told my friend Jackie that Big Sis, My Sharona and I are going to Paris next fall. Jackie's mom was a Parisienne of Armenian descent, so Jackie has the look of a wild-maned gypsy and speaks dramatic, almost guttural French, complete with the exaggerated hand gestures.
Ever since I told her, she's been talking about Edith Piaf non-stop. I always just considered Piaf the epitome of an aging French chanteuse, but Jackie insisted I listen to her music. She burned me a special Edith Piaf CD, just knowing I'd be driving to Austin for Thanksgiving.
So I listened as I drove and bristled at first, but kept at it until a few little hooks caught my attention. And I started sort of liking her more, the more I listened.
I told my Parisienne friend Sonia about it and she went wild (as wild as she could via e-mail) and said she loved the song, "Non Rien de Rien, Non je ne Regrette Rien," but my French is so horrible I couldn't pick those words out of any of the songs on the burnt CD. I had to You Tube it.
I told Jackie that I'd enjoyed the CD, so she started telling me I must see the movie, "La Vie En Rose" as soon as possible. She offered to have me over to see it on her computer, but I doubted a small screen viewing would enhance it any. I mean, the subtitles would have read like 6-point type.
I mentioned the movie to Big Sis, who'd seen it but still got excited and offered to rent it for Thanksgiving night. Hell yeah, I said.
Imagine my shock to discover that Edith Piaf was France's Judy Garland, or like England's Amy Winehouse. The movie was a delicious bummer: huge losses followed by petit triumphs. She was a mess!
So now that I've listened to some of her music and seen her movie biography, I'm a little obsessed with her. Even though I can only hum to her songs and have no idea what she's going on about, she makes me feel a little French by proximity.
I know I'm awfully late to the Edith Piaf party, but what about you, do you like her?

*Apologies to J.D. Salinger's "For Esme, with Love and Squalor"

Happy Thanksgiving!

I hope everyone has enough to eat with people you love and/or like a lot.
Be safe.

~KZ

OBAMA: WE DON'T WANT ANYMORE GODDAMN REPUBLICAN WARS, GET IT?



On Tuesday evening's news, I heard that Obama plans to tell the American people next week that he plans to add 35,000 more troops to Afghanistan and prolong that boondoggle, I guess until we run out of troops and money.
Okay, Barack, you can deal me out now. Ask the Republicans who shit on you at every opportunity to back you on Afghanistan.
In other words, you're on your own, fool.

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Sarah Palin Sets the Record Straight!



As a service to Pulp Friction readers, here is an excerpt from the first chapter of the governor's new book, "Going Rogue."

Chapter One
Setting the record straight!!!

When John McCain called me to be his Vee Pee, what most people don't know is he actually called to ask if I'd run for president and let him be my Vee Pee.
I said, "Oh Gosh, John, I'm flattered but I think I'd rather get my feet kinda wet on the national stage by being your Vee Pee first." Then I laughed and said, "But golly, John, first you have to tell me what exactly a Vee Pee does, because as a governor I am pretty doggone busy, and I'm not so sure I'd want a job that just means being the president of the Senate and changing laws n' stuff."

Also too, about the fancy clothes they made me wear. See, I told them a maverick like me would be uncomfortable wearing designer labels and carrying expensive purses and wearing Manolo Blahniks and all that kinda stuff.
But Meegan McCain told me her mother said "a little ragamuffin like me would embarrass a fancy rich lady like her" so it was kinda like "go to Neiman's or forget it." So like the good little soldier I did.

About shooting animals from a airplane. Actually it was not really a true story. It was a helicopter that Todd and I saved all our money for, and the animals I shot were for food only. Many people think wolf and bear is not good to eat, but with some elbow grease and old fashioned good cookin' it is truly delicious.

About the pregnancy of Bristol. I told McCain's vetting committee all about it and they sent me a check for $300 to get a abortion for her. But when I refused they were all like "we're gonna tell" and I said "go ahead, sticks and stones can break my bones but the truth will set me free." And I cashed that check and sent the money anonymously to Project Save a Life and used the rest to buy Bristol a little blanket for that baby.

About the McCain's staff being "out to get me." They truly were because they thought I was too good lookin' and sharp and also I made John look old and Cindy look really dry and wrinkled. So they maid up a lot of junk about me and my family & called Kieth Olberman and his lesbian friend Rachel Maddlow all the time to have them say lies about me. So it was jealousy.

About Levi Johnston. I don't like the drama that "Ricky Hollywood" and his show biz pals he pals around with like to make. And now that he's in pornos for that filthy magazine that proves he doesn't think his body is a temple like mine is and for that I am very sorry for him because he doesn't have the Lord lighting his way and keeping him pure.

About Katie Courick: I did that innerview because I felt sorry for her poor self esteem and thought I could help her look better but she ambushed me because some people gotta knock better people down to make them look better, or so they think!!! But then she had to go and ask me stupid questions about what-all I read and when I answered her sarcastic she didn't get it and thought I really didn't mean that I actually I read all the magazines out there, including the Atlantic Ocean Monthly, Newsweak, Times magazine, O, TV Guide, The New York, Vanity, McCalls, Lady's Home Journal, the Bible, Shakespear, People, InStyle, Architectral Digest, the Journal of Medicine, The Harvard Law Magazine, the Yale magazine, the Smithsonian Museum magazine, and also pretty much all the really heavy intellectual magazines and book there are.

Rumors about Todd and me's marriage. Have you SEEN Todd? He's gorgeous!!! Why would I want to divorce anybody that hott? But we did not "have to" get married. Track's birth certificate said he was born 3 months after we got married because it was a typo.

About my special needs baby. I never called him "my retarded baby." There's nothing wrong with being a retarded baby, besides, when you have Christ as your savior.

About lies that I misused my governor's office. I did not, and any investigations into mis-doing were lies that I have to pay for the investigations for, which was truly not fair. It was all a plot by Democrat politicians to ruin me but nothing ever stuck to me and I was proved not guilty tons of times besides.

About Obama pallin' around with terrorists. Well, he did and the liberal media just covered it up. He's still best friends with William Ayres and Jeremiah Wright is still very much his reverend.

There's alot more about stuff I could tell ya but I am afraid they'll get me. Alot of people out there want me silenced and if this book sells a million, then I may tell ya more.

Ten Things I'd Rather Do Than Read Sarah Palin's Book

1. Blow Flavor Flav



2. Clean up David Hasselhoff's puke


3. Provide Amy Winehouse with oral pleasure


4. Pull Larry the Cable Guy's finger


5. Let Joe Lieberman get to third base


6. Eat this for Thanksgiving dinner


7. Trim Toby Keith's dirty toenails


8. Kiss Glenn Beck's tears dry


9. Have a menage a trois with Levi's Johnston and Jon's Gosslein


10. Turn straight for Mr. Chaz Bono

Oh, What Bullshit!



I've been out of town at a conference and haven't had time to read any blogs lately, so if I'm writing about a topic you've already covered on your blog, I assure you I haven't consciously stolen any ideas.
But this latest news about the need for mammograms and pap smears being punted ahead by several years is bullshit.
Gee, how coincidental that insurance companies are about to get their greedy balls squeezed, and suddenly their female customers don't need baseline mammograms until well after age 40, and they don't need annual pap smears until well out of their teen years. ARE THEY KIDDING?
Why is it always women that big business wants to screw first?
Why not push prostate exams to age 70 and kill prescriptions for Viagra all together?
It's a ruse as clear as daylight.
Big insurance has always had a mess of physicians in their back pockets, so it was extremely easy for them to get certain quacks to make these new recommendations.
It's bullshit and any physician or politician who's behind it should be horsewhipped.
On Monday, I plan to call all my legislators and bitch to high heaven about this phony baloney scam. Then I plan to call my doctor and schedule a mammo and a pap smear as soon as they can get me in.
Does anyone think this isn't a bullshit scam?

Jury Duty. Oh no!



This has not been my day.
I went to get a haircut and the cutter was late so I wasted 45 minutes waiting and ended up leaving in a huff. Then I stopped to get a taco and some little shit of a kid kept running by and crashing into me. I got home and found a jury duty summons in my mailbox.
Oh no.
Now I gotta drag myself downtown at 8 a.m. on Dec. 2, find parking and head into the courthouse with the rest of the unwashed cattle.
After sitting around for three hours in a cramped room full of coughing people, I'll have to sit in some crappy courtroom for voir dire.
The lawyers will ask some basic questions and start smiling at me because I can speak and understand English.
Then I'll have to pull a stunt to get excused.
Last time, I stood up during voir dire and said I thought the plaintiff's lawyer was disrespectful to the court because he was wearing cowboy boots with a suit.
I went on to say this was a courtroom, not a rodeo and that cowboy boots should be worn with blue jeans or not at all. The whole courtroom started laughing, so I really started to lay it on thick, saying there was no way I could be impartial when I'd already decided the plaintiff's attorney was a hick whose politics were probably like Rush Limbaugh's, whom I hated.
Even the judge started laughing as he released me.
I make a terrible juror because I see things in black and white and I'm biased as hell.
If it's a man against a woman, I'll vote in favor of the woman.
If it's old versus young, I'll side with the geezer.
If it's a pot possession case, I'll hang the jury with my not guilty stand.
If one party looks Republican, I'll side with whoever they are against.
If both parties look Republican, I'll tell that to the judge and get excused.
If it's a civil case I'll die of boredom.
If it's a criminal case I'll assume the perp is guilty, unless it's a cute woman then I'll assume she's innocent.
If it's a sex crime I'll poison the jury with fast talk to find him guilty.
There's nothing about me any judge wants on a jury. Now I just have to go through the hassle of proving it. Again.

The Top Secret Journal of Carrie Prejean



Once again, the crack reporter at Pulp Friction was able to obtain another top secret celebrity journal--this time it's the red-hot former Miss California Carrie Prejean.

November 16, 2009
Dear Top Secret Journal!!!

I hate that Sarah Palin. Just when my secret sex videos hit the news....here she comes with her stupid damn book and knock me out of the lead story.
Also too I hate that dirty old Larry King with his inappreopriate comments. What a nerve he has to think he can ask me just any old thing. I hate him and he smells like old bandaids and vitamin pee.
And Sarah Palin is a big liar I hear. She is in a whole lotta trouble with her book full of lies about McCane's people being mean. She doesn't know mean. She never had to deal with that faggoty bitch Perez Hilton or that other faggoty bitch Micheal Musto. I hate those queers. They are just jealous of me because I get to wear gowns and make-up in public and they have to do it in privat with there fairy friends.
Okay I admitt I was a little embarassed when my sex pics hit the internets but damn I looked hot anyways. A whole lot of cute guys have called me--like Charlie Sheen and David Spade and that guy from knocked up that was fat and now he's not as fat.
Even David Hasslehoff called me but he was so drunk he could'nt talk very good.
I hate those pageant guys who wanted me to pay for my boob job. Oh sure they were only to happy to pay for them when I was in the pageant but let the wind blow wrong and now they want money. As if!!!!
Another thing is: the people from Rachel Madlow's show called and said they wanted me to come on her show. Are they crazy??? Why would I want to be scene with a big lesbian on a tv show? She'd prolly want to finger me under the desk while she was acting all intellectual and stuff. ICK!!!
And so did Kieth Oberman's people call me to be on his show. No way jose!!! That guy is crazy and athiest and so liberal he makes me sick!!!
I also hate that reverend from Texas John Hagee. He wanted me to come talk to his congregation before the sex tapes and now he cancelled becuz he said I was not family values any more. LOL! I still am family values but God made my body beautiful and its not a bad thing to celebrate it as long as I do it tastily. And I did.
But one thing for sure, my book is gonna be as big or bigger then Sarah Palins because my title is better: "Still Standing". I got that idea from a Elton John song and yea I know he's a queer but he's English and I think they are all a little bit on the queer side over there, so what the heck.
Besides: you cant swing a dead cat without hitting a queer nowadays.
Okay I have to get ready for my date now.
I am going out with Lorenzo Lamas son AJ tonight and I wanna look really good in case he takes me somewheres hot. Hes totally hot and famous so I am siked that he asked me out. Will tell you all about it later.
Okay, as they say in Italy, chow!!!

Why, Oh Why?



There is literally no channel on TV that isn't talking incessantly about this white trash liar and her book full of trailer park yammering.
Her remarks about her teen daughter getting knocked up are the worst. She acts as if the media got her pregnant, and that the topic should have been totally off limits.
What is with these rightwing, faux Christian broads?
If they are so obsessed with privacy, why do they stick their faces in any camera lens they see?
Do Americans truly believe that women like Sarah Palin and disgraced beauty queen Carrie Prejean have strong moral values?
Do they believe Palin has a right to be indignant about adverse publicity when she's made herself such a huge target?
Has anyone compared and contrasted her grandbaby daddy Levi Johnston's statements versus hers? He sounds steady and resolute. She sounds shrill and panicky.
It matters not to Palin that her book has proven to be filled with lies and exaggeration. She doesn't believe in the Associated Press or its fact checkers; they are just an inconvenience to her delusional personality.
What kills me is the small percentage of Americans who buy her crap.
Are they really so ignorant they can't see the hypocrisy?
Are they too stupid to get that her "family values" don't include paying enough attention to her teen daughter to see she didn't get knocked up at age 16?
Do they think it's a Christian thing to do when she ran back to Wasilla with luggage stuffed with clothing that didn't belong to her?
Do people think it's politically wise to trash the campaign staff of the man who dragged her out of obscurity and into the national spotlight?
Here's the thing.
The conservative Republicans refuse to fund education because they prefer their base stay ignorant and afraid. They cultivate an electorate filled with dimwits because it's easier to lie to them and feed them bullshit about Jesus, the American flag, guns and war.
Unless one is a very wealthy person who loves the tax breaks and other big business perks the GOP loves to hand out, then one is just plain ignorant to belong to that party.
Sarah Palin is the worst of the worst kind of politician.
She's ignorant, deceitful, arrogant, ineducable, delusional and conceited.
And anyone who buys her piece of shit book is an unabashed idiot.

Shameless Self Promotion
Bronze is For Eight Years



Eight years ago this month I started Pulp Friction.
It started as a pretty boring haircut blog, then I learned how to add pictures and discuss politics and it morphed into a pretty boring multi purpose blog.
I promise never to add advertising.
Thanks for reading, linking and commenting.

Oh, Good God.




What do Ernestine and my cat James have in common?
Well, not much at first glance, but last night both kind of came into play.
With this cooler weather, all three of my kitties (James, Nick and Baby Jake)have started clinging to me for warmth at night. Not satisfied with mere proximity, they've all decided my head is my warmest feature, so they take turns trying to lay on it. Not near it, ON it.
As I've aged, I'm a much lighter sleeper. Once the kitties leave me alone I'm able to fall asleep and I value it. If something awakens me, it's very hard to get back to sleep.
Enter the telephone.
For the last week or so, my caller ID lists a name I'm not familiar with and they never leave a message. Last night at 1 a.m. the phone rang but I was still up watching TV and let it go to voicemail. When I played the message, it was a woman and man sort of laughing and talking, with a crying toddler in the background. Obviously it was a purse or pocket call, so I blew it off.
Then at 3 a.m. the phone rang again.
I grabbed the phone and it hung up. It was the same number so I called it. No answer. I was fuming. I was wide awake and fuming. I called back 15 minutes later and a young Latina woman answered.
"Hello?"
"Yes, uhh, this phone number keeps showing up on my caller ID and I don't know who this is, but I'd appreciate it if the calls would stop."
"Who eees thees?"
"My name is Karen, but since I don't know you or whomever else uses your phone, I'm going to ask you not to call my number again."
"Hoo kay. Goobye."

I figure her stupid husband or boyfriend must have called me once by accident and hung up. Then she, being suspicious of him, pressed redial and heard my voice on my message, and the race was on. I guess she kept calling hoping to catch me.

All that's well and good, but there I was wide awake at 3:15 a.m. with the kitties wide awake again and searching for more of my cranial warmth. I finally got fed up and just got out of bed for the day.

Now my eyes feel like they've been sanded, the kitties are awake and hyper, and there'll be no rest all day.
If that chick pulls this again, I will hunt her down and ram her phone where her dialing fingers cannot reach. Grrrr.

SALT LAKE CITY — The Mormon church for the first time has announced its support of gay rights legislation, an endorsement that helped gain unanimous approval for Salt Lake city laws banning discrimination against gays in housing and employment.

Wait...what?

An Immodest Proposal



First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a communist;
Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist;
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist;
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew;
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak out for me.
-Pastor Martin Niemöller (1892–1984)

This post might enrage some people out there, but what's life without a little controversy?
I heard heads exploding after Joe the stoop Stupak and a passel of lobbying priests tightened up abortion funding restrictions on the House's version of the health care bill.
Then I checked my own reaction and realized I was rather 'meh' about the news.
Why?
Because we queers fought for legalized abortion before the Roe v. Wade era, and we had zero horses in that race.
My gay sisters and I have all put in time escorting women seeking legal abortions to clinic entrances amidst throngs of angry, violence prone, invective spitting, anti-choice maniacs.
Women born after 1973 never had to sweat getting safe and legal abortions because we older women hit the streets and risked our asses marching for legal abortion. At such marches, I recall the crowds were usually a 50/50 mix of straight women and lesbians.
So here we are.
Breeders can safely abort fetuses without breaking the law.
Yet we queers are still where we were 100 years ago in terms of equal rights.
If you ask the average dyke what Roe v. Wade was about, we could likely explain it in enough detail to be convincing.
If you ask the average straight women of abortion-having age what Stonewall was all about, chances are they'd look at you like you were asking them to explain quantum physics.
Frankly, I'm a little tired of straighties, especially women, doing little to nothing to help gay people get equal rights. Is it enough to just say you're for gay rights?
It might sound crazy, but maybe repealing Roe v. Wade might teach these people what it's like to have something as basic as choice taken away. Maybe they need to learn the value of a good protest march.
Go ahead and comment, telling me you think I've gone off the deep end.
But be sure and tell me what direct actions you've taken to demand equal rights for gays.
I've done my part for abortion rights, and so has virtually every lesbian I know.
I haven't just been pro choice, I've been in the trenches, risking my gay ass.
A little quid pro quo would be nice.

The Real Housewives of...



When I get in the mood, I plan to write a review of all the Bravo housewives, but for now I just wanted to say I've done the unthinkable and added "Tardy For the Party" to my iPod playlist.
Performed by possibly the world's most off-key "singer," Atlanta housewife Kim Zolciak, with the help of auto-tune and the fabulous ATL housewife Kandi Burruss, the song is actually pretty good. Great beat, easy to dance to.
And just to get a jump start on my review, I loves me some Kandi Burruss.

They Did It!



The United States Congress has passed the health care reform bill!
To all the Democrats who risked their careers and withstood the lies and propaganda on this historically meaningful bill, congratulations.
To all the Republican, Joe Lieberman and blue dog Democrats who worked so hard to ruin this bill, fuck you! Choke on it!
Yay Obama!
Yay Speaker Pelosi!
Yay Democrats!
Yay millions of uninsured Americans who can now have hope for a healthier tomorrow.

You Go, Girl



Yesterday's horrible shooting spree at Fort Hood could have been a lot worse if not for the colossal courage of the Fort Hood Police Department's Sgt. Kimberly Munley.
The civilian cop faced the crazed Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan and blasted him in the torso, bringing him down.
Munley was shot in the thighs and wrist in the gunfire exchange.
While this horrible attack has further marred the reputation of Muslims in America, especially those serving in the armed forces, it's done a lot to bolster the reputation of female police officers everywhere.
I think Sgt. Munley should be honored with the highest award the federal government has to offer. She showed more guts than most of us could ever hope to have.
As for Hasan, once again he proved that the military fails to pay attention to mentally unbalanced soldiers. It's hard to believe a man this insane was offering psychiatric care to our troops.

Aaron Carter: Total Douchbag or
What I Was Doing on My Bloggy Break



I had to take a blogging breather recently, because I also needed an MSNBC breather. Instead I've been gorging myself on trash TV like Dancing With the Stars, everything on E! and other televised garbage.
On my break I learned one thing: the biggest douchebag on TV has to be Aaron Carter, the pissy little bleached blond bitch on DWtS. He's a terrible sport, he whines like a 9-year-old and the whites of his eyes get crazy like a horse when it looks like he might lose.
He's hilarious when facing the judges. He purses his lips so tight they turn white, like he's reliving some bad flashback with an abusive daddy or something.
He's not a bad dancer per se, he just has a horrible personality.
When he thinks the camera's not on him, he's haughty and snide. Then when he sees the red light, he starts smiling and trying to act like a real sweetie pie.
I'm kind of hoping he gets into the final two, so when he loses his head might explode on national TV.
Have you seen this wuss in action? Snide comments welcome!

If I Ran America



I was chatting with an idiot in a Pogo games chat when he said, "If you're so smart, how would you run the country?"
I thought about it a while and realized I could do a better job than most politicians. Here's how:

1. No more Internal Revenue Service. I'd introduce a flat tax. If you make $25,000 or less, you'd pay no taxes. From $25,001 to $150,000 you'd pay 10%. From $150,001 to $500,000 you'd pay 15%. Anyone making more than that would pay 20%. No more deductions of any kind. Same breakdown for corporations.
2. No more job outsourcing without substantial penalties.
3. Legalize marijuana. Tax the hell out of it and sell it in licensed liquor stores, to ages 21 and up. License fees go to the state. End farm subsidies by having farmers grow pot instead of nothing.
4. Non-college bound youth must perform two years of trade school, approved civil, social or military service.
5. Tuition is free at state universities for students studying education, nursing, pre-med or social work.
6. Prison for violent criminals only. All other convicted criminals would be sentenced to infrastructure duty: maintaining public green space, removing graffiti, roadwork, maintaining homeless shelters, help to the aged, etc.
7. No more lobbyists. Federal campaigns would be financed by proceeds from income taxes, marijuana taxes and federal funds. No politician may receive more than $100 from ordinary citizens and $500 from corporations.
8. Single Payer health insurance for all. Existing insurance companies would have to rely on property and auto insurance policies for their income.
9. Tuition free schools for blind, deaf and severely disabled in every major city. State and federally funded.
10. Reduce defense budget by 20% immediately. Start by eliminating cost overruns as part of defense contracts, eliminating outmoded projects and firing companies implicated in crimes such as human rights violations and price gouging.
11. End the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
12. Massive funding for alternative fuel research. Rebates for buying high mileage or hybrid vehicles. Gas guzzlers like Hummers must pay an additional $1,000 annually in road use fees.
13. Increased sales taxes on foods using high fructose corn syrup, sugar, transfats and no nutritional value.
14. Public school teachers should be paid on a par with other professionals such as CPAs, engineers, architects and nurses.
15. Churches pay property taxes on any buildings or real estate holdings except for chapels or other central places of worship.
16. Equal rights for all taxpayers. Straight, gay, disabled, whatever, if adults are paying taxes, they all should enjoy the same rights as other citizens.
17. Increased funding for the arts.
18. Cash incentives for households using less electricity, gas and water.
19. Amnesty for immigrantswho can prove residence in the U.S. for more than five continuous years. They must agree to pay back income taxes. For new immigrants, they must apply for citizenship, be employed, pay taxes and have no criminal records.
20. School children (K-12) must be enrolled in foreign language classes. Proficiency in a second language must be part of high school diploma requirements.
21. High School Dropouts would be drafted into the military or a civilian corps of public service.
22. Free pie for everyone.

This Is It



Say what you will about Michael Jackson the man, but as a performer he was peerless.
Because I was curious about what the concert he didn't live to perform would have been like, I went to see the docu-concert movie, "This Is It" tonight.
Now, I'm not sure I agree with Oprah and The View's Sherry Shepherd that the movie should win an Oscar, but it was a very compelling thing to see.
From his polite but maniacal attention to detail, to his imaginative dancing and still powerful vocals, it was nice to see him on stage and remember how amazing he used to be.
The songs were all very familiar--none of that HIStory crap.
If you know the words to at least two of his songs, then the movie will make you happy.
My companion and I both tried to tell if he looked sick or drugged or dazed during the movie, and the answer was yes and no. If I tried to sing and dance every day for hours and hours of rehearsals, I'm pretty sure I'd look like hell about 15 minutes into it.
But for a 50-year-old, his body was toned and lithe, and his voice was as pretty as it ever was.
Nothing in the movie made me cry, but toward the end when I recalled him saying he wanted to do the concert so his kids could see him perform for the first time, I misted up a little.
They loved him as their dad, but seeing him on stage will surely blow their little minds. For that, I'm happy they filmed so many of the rehearsals.
I think the concert would have been stupendous.
Go see it. Tell us what you thought of it.

Never Piss Off a Redneck Teenager



Whoops!
It seems Levi Johnston, 19, has had enough of Sarah Palin's bad mouthing.
He hinted in a TV interview yesterday that he's got a lot more dirt on her than he let fly a few months ago in a piece he wrote for Vanity Fair.
Her reply?
"Well, he doesn't respect his body and he's posing naked for money so you can't believe anything he says."
Huh?
The kid's a handsome young buck who was dragged into the limelight by Palin and paraded around like a prized stud at the state fair.
Once she lost the election, he was tossed aside like the prop he was.
Was he ever investigated or charged with anything? No, but she was.
Did he make an ass of himself in every MSM interview he ever did? No, but she did.

As I've said before, the kid sees a chance to travel and make some money, and unlike her, he seems to grasp that his time in the limelight is very limited. He wants to make hay while he can. So?

How is Johnston making money off his looks any different than Palin doing the same thing? Does anyone think she's not using her looks to get attention?
She's had five kids and isn't 19 anymore, but does anyone doubt she would have posed for Playboy if they'd have asked her back when she was his age?

I hope she keeps tweeting and facebooking shit about the kid. I hope he gets so offended he does end up telling what he knows about her. Maybe he's got something that can be investigated, prosecuted and get her out of the public eye once and for all.
Let's hope so.