Why I Stay Home on New Year's Eve



There are two types of people who go out on New Year's Eve: drunks who think every Saturday night is New Year's Eve, and moderate to non-drinkers who only go out and get drunk on New Year's Eve.
The latter order Chivas Regal & Coke, silly umbrella drinks and sugary wine spritzers.
The former will drink anything they can afford, and as much of it as they can hold.
Around 2 a.m. in most areas of the U.S., bars close and these pro and amateur drunks all stagger out to their cars and attempt to drive home.
Oh sure, there are cops aplenty to bust the drunkest of the lot, but how many sneak by the cops weaving, speeding and tail-gating like drunk monkeys? The rest of them, that's who.
Even going to a friend's house is out of the question.
If you don't drink a drop and stay until just after the stroke of midnight then leave immediately, you'll still be in the cross-hairs of drunken drivers who couldn't last past midnight.
In San Antonio there's another issue--lawlessness in terms of public fireworks detonation. Residential streets are perfect for launching fireworks of all sizes. Who wants to turn onto their street and run over a $39 chrysanthemum firework just as it's about to launch skyward?
One year a friend of mine had a party outdoors in her backyard. I skipped it, for obvious reasons, but a mutual friend ended up catching a bullet on top of her head because some drunk asshole in the vicinity fired a gun into the air to celebrate.
She had to be rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery to remove the bullet.
See?
There are too many bad variables to get me out on New Year's Eve.
Besides, I may need to stand in my yard with a hose in case someone launches a firework that lands on my roof and starts a huge fire. I just hope I don't catch any idiot's celebratory bullets with my skull. :/

Self Reflection...



Am I a gasbag?
Am I too opinionated, and too vocal about my opinions?
I recently met someone who described herself as tactful and polite, avoiding conflict at all times if possible.
We discussed a couple of people we know in common, both of whom are bitches.
I expressed why I thought they were bitches, based on past experiences with them.
I concluded: one was a grouchy old curmudgeon and one was batshit crazy.
My new friend thought that was harsh.
Lately I've been reading the teachings of the Buddha and reading the poetry of Rumi, neither of whom would call these two bitches bitches.
But I did.
Does that make me a devolved person?
Should I try to be nicer and less opinionated in 2011?

Merry Christmas to All



I hope everyone has the kind of Christmas my family and I will be having--filled with peace, laughter, good food, presents and love.
I am so fortunate to have so much in my life, and my Christmas wish for all of you is the same good fortune.
See you soon,

Love,
Karen Zipdrive

I'm not a football fan but I do love marching bands. This one from the University of Hawaii is really intense. Check it out.

Oh, No You Dihn't.
Oh, Yes I Did.



I don't know about you, but I'm getting a little worried about the right-wing and teabaggers amassing weapons and ammo for what, an eventual revolution?
Having expressed my concerns to my trusty pal Rowdy, she decided it was time she took me to the shooting range and taught me how to shoot an array of handguns.
She's a born Texan, an open minded GOP, a ranchwoman, fisherwoman, hunter and basically my polar opposite, although we share the same birthday.
If I were ever in a dark alley or foxhole or facing down a pack of growling wolves, she's whom I'd choose to get my back, because she's as tough as nails, in a very cute little package, and she would shoot anything or anyone who threatened us.

At her house, she carefully laid out part of her gun arsenal and selected for us:

1. A Smith& Wesson .22 revolver (USA)
2. A CZ 9mm (Czech Republic)
3. A Glock 19 9mm (Austria)
4. A gun she named Ms. November, a Springfield Armory Mil-Spec 1911-A1.45 caliber made in America.

Before we drove to the shooting range, she warned me that they were probably all going to be conservative rednecks who vote Republican, so I was not allowed to pop off at them or mention the assorted redneck bumper stickers that covered the pay booth, like, "Vegetarian Is An Old Native American Word For 'BAD HUNTER'." Oh, hardy har har. There were also plenty of anti-Obama stickers.

As you can see from the target, we killed the hell out of some imaginary bad guy.
I hit the X in the center first, and she was a little wowed by it. I sure as hell was. I actually strutted around a little afterwards.
Mostly I hit the torso and neck area, but Rowdy took care of the head and groin area pretty much by herself.

She has renamed me Caren Zipdrive because I liked shooting the CZ 9mm best. The .22 was the easiest for me to shoot, but when I compared the holes made by the larger caliber pistols, I found the CZ a lot more powerful and dangerous...therefore exciting in a barbarian sense.
I'm not saying I intend to go buy a gun or become a gun-nut, but with the way things are going in America with the crazy right-wing, I at least wanted to see if I could aim one.
We stood 21 feet from the target and fired about 200 rounds of ammo.
Just as we were finishing, who pulls up but my gun-nut neighbors Andy and Leeza from across the street!
They almost crapped to see me standing there amidst an arsenal of weapons and a pile of spent bullet butts (casings?)with earphones on and a big dumb grin on my face.
They showed us their kinda pissy little guns as we repacked Rowdy's cannons.
By the time I got home, Andy's next door neighbor George, who's a young Marine home on holiday leave, said to me, "Hey, I hear you're a real sharpshooter."
GOOD.
I want the people in my 'hood to think I'm an armed bad-ass.
Besides--look at the target. I AM a bad-ass.
:D

DADT Repeal: It's About Time.



Like some slaves being granted their freedom to leave the plantation, I hope we queers don't start kissing the massas's jackboots with gratitude.
Restoring or creating civil rights for all Americans is an imperative, not a favor or kindness.
If they want to put some teeth into the repeal of Don't Ask/Don't Tell, they could start by rehiring any ousted gays who want to rejoin the military.
They could amend any discharge papers that were less than honorable due to sexual orientation.
The repeal is halfway good- but the life partner of a gay soldier still has no rights as a spouse, and until that changes, we ain't quite there yet.
The good news is, at least a few Republicans voted for the repeal.

What Have I Done to Deserve This, indeed.



Don't anybody say nuthin' about my Dusty Springfield. She may have been an ageing diva when she recorded this, but she was still a diva.

This One Goes Out to President Obama



Hint: the GOP ain't gonna give you the love you need, Boo.

From Kelli Goff/HuffPo

Ten Things Michelle Obama Wants to Say to Sarah Palin

1. For once I agree with Barbara Bush.


2. At least I know the difference between North and South Korea.


3. If Katie Couric had asked me I could name plenty of publications that I read on a regular basis because reading is something you get used to doing in law school.


4. When I said I was proud of my country for supporting my husband, what I really meant is I was proud Americans were smart enough to support him over the other guys (and gals, hint, hint...)


5. Some people shoot harmless animals. I adopt them.


6. When you accused me of not trusting parents to do a good job raising their own children, you were only partially right. I trust most parents, but some could use a little help because their kids are out of control; you know calling people offensive slurs and whatnot. Not like my well-mannered girls.


7. While I realize a strong, attractive black woman defeated you for the Miss Alaska crown (which must have really stung since there are like 5 of us in the whole state) you shouldn't let that leave you with a chip on your shoulder about all of us strong, attractive black women.


8. Not that I'm judging, but Sasha and Malia will appear on "Dancing with the Stars" the day my husband goes ice-skating in hell with...well you.


9. Some people appear on reality tv, while some of us appear on the cover of VOGUE.

10. Please run for president. I'd really like to live in the White House another four years.

This One Goes Out to Naveen and Her Reluctant Boyfriend Lorenzo

Sublime.

A New Tradition at Pulp Friction

I'm sick of politics, especially these days. I'm also sick of typing words that may or may not have any impact on anyone, including myself.
So, from today until I get bored with it, I want to take everyone on a visual voyage of beautiful, elegant, talented women in film, music and entertainment from around the world.
I kicked the door open with Catherine Deneuve and Susan Sarandon's sensuous love scene from the film, "The Hunger."
Now I am pleased to present a photo montage of French superstar Fanny Ardant, who my Parisian friend told me about years ago. Please enjoy.

Straight: A Review



In "Straight, A Conversion Comedy," Playwright and wit David Schmader's one-man show explores the world of conversion therapy for gays and lesbians considering turning straight.
His wit and amazing articulation and perfect diction takes the audience from his happy life as a very frisky gay man through his oddly subversive curiosity about groups (mostly Christian-based) like Exodus, who claim they can turn an ordinary gay man into a woman lovin' straight guy, if only they accept the hoops they must jump through to get there.
In his detailed storytelling, he admits to posing as a straight wanna-be to infiltrate some of these gay-no-more groups, where nelly gay men try to play touch football and big dykes are taught to be more feminine, all for the love of Jesus and the desire to fit into "normal society."
Not so much hilariously funny, the play was witty with a few great zingers thrown in to keep the mostly gay audience engaged.
The San Francisco Weekly describes it as, "Fabulously intelligent, witty, risky and important."
Hyperbole aside, having never met a gay or lesbian seeking conversion to heterosexuality, it was interesting to see what some go through to please Jesus, their parents, or society in general.
Does his curiosity actually succeed in turning him straight, or was his participation just an undercover investigative effort?
Let's just say at the end, he still had plenty of friskiness about him.

Showing at The Trinity University Attic Theatre until Dec. 19, Thursday through Saturday at 8 p.m. Sunday matinee at 2:30 p.m. Tickets are $10 and $20.

To Hell With Politics.

Lookin' Good, Hillary



I like this recent photo of Hillary Clinton.
I like the longer hair and the intense expression on her face.
Looks presidential to me.

Light Sabers Are Not Real, Stupid.



President Pissy totally blew it today with his admonishment to the Democrats because they didn't like watching him take it up the ass by his daddies in the GOP.
I detested George W. Bush, but at least he was loyal to his base and never waivered.
This limp dishrag of a president needs to do the honorable thing, hand the reins over to Joe Biden and go apply for a job as a lecturer at a Southside Chicago Junior College.
Obama is taking the last remaining days of a House & Senate majority and inviting the GOP to start pissing all over them to get an early start.
There is NOTHING Obama can do to restore my faith in him.
Support him?
I don't even LIKE him anymore.

Elizabeth Edwards passed away today shortly after Obama's speech.
I think she heard him, rolled her eyes for the last time, and just let go.

DeLay Was Brought Down by a Lesbian D.A.
From the Dallas Voice online.


In case you missed it, former House Republican Majority Leader Tom “the Hammer” DeLay was convicted the day before Thanksgiving on felony charges of money laundering for illegally funneling corporate dollars into Texas state legislative races in 2002.

DeLay, who represented a Houston-area House district from 1984 to 2005, faces up to life in prison but says he will appeal the verdict.

DeLay had a decidedly anti-gay voting record in Congress, receiving the worst possible score of zero from the Human Rights Campaign in each of his last two sessions. A year before his indictment and resignation, DeLay spoke on the House floor in support of a federal constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage:

“This nation knows that if you destroy marriage as the definition of one man and one woman, creating children so that we can transfer our values to those children and they can be raised in an ideal home, this country will go down,” DeLay said.

“So believe me, everybody in this country’s going to know how you voted today,” he said, his anger mounting with every word. “They’re going to know how you stood on the fundamental protection of marriage and the definition of marriage. And we will take it from here and we will come back, and we will come back, and we will come back. We will never give up. We will protect marriage in this country.”

Given DeLay’s record on gay rights, perhaps there’s some poetic justice to the fact that the district attorney who obtained the conviction, Rosemary Lehmberg, is an out and proud lesbian. Lehmberg, a Democrat, was elected to replace Travis County District Attorney Ronnie Earle, who initiated DeLay’s prosecution, after Earle retired in 2008. Before that, Lehmberg served as Earle’s first assistant for 10 years in the office that’s home to the state’s Public Integrity Unity, which is charged with investigating corruption in government.

Of course, DeLay’s prosecution had no more to do with Lehmberg’s sexual orientation than it did with her party affiliation, and none of the stories we’ve seen about his conviction even mention it.

Which is why we thought we would.

“I think that I serve as an individual who demonstrates that sexual orientation is not particularly relevant, except to your personal life, and therefore a lot of the homophobia and bias is unwarranted — the fear that people have,” Lehmberg told us following her election in 2008.

Obama's Surprise Visit to Afghanistan



I think it was a good move for Obama to pay a surprise holiday visit to the troops stationed in Afghanistan. Any time a president commits our troops to war, he needs to risk the danger of going there in person to see what his decision is costing Americans who serve in the armed forces.
Wouldn't it be nice if he could have also said hello and thank you to troops who are openly gay and serving as patriotic soldiers?
Obama could have, and should have, rectified this flagrant human rights and constitutional rights violation against gay tax paying citizens.
Some may say he can't win for losing.
But he needs to right this wrong and quit fucking around with it.
I know dozens of gays and lesbians who have served or are serving in the military with honor. To deny them equal rights is dishonorable and disgraceful.
It's one more thing Obama needs to do before he regains liberal and progressive support. Until then, he's no different than religious fundamentalists, tea baggers and the rest of those intolerant fools.

I've Had It With This Chump



The right-wing must love this weak little puppet.
They demand, he caves.
Tax cuts for the mega wealthy? Done.
His refusal to investigate and prosecute the Bush war criminals? No problem.
He's got no backbone, he's boring and he lied to get elected.
We backed a liberal, we got a moderate, quasi Republican.
Back in 2008 I got my ass handed to me by fellow liberals because I wanted Hillary Clinton to be president. At least I could count on her to stand up to the scumbag Republicans, but no.
You wanted change? You didn't get it with this clown Obama.
I don't care who runs against him in the next primary, they have my vote.
Obama is the worst Democratic president in history.
He's a Republican.
He's worthless to us.
Hillary would have done a much better job. Sure she's a bitch, but she would have been our bitch and that counts for something.

Ahh, Come On.



Willie Nelson was busted by U.S. Border Patrol last Friday for holding around six ounces of marijuana on his tour bus.
Border Patrol? Is busting a national treasure like old Willie for a couple of bags of weed really part of keeping the U.S./Mexican border safe?
Who exactly is Willie's pot habit hurting? Judging by his advanced age and the fact that he's still working, it's not hurting him any--so who is it hurting?
Is this really the best use of the Border Patrol's time?
There should be a new law that allows anyone over age 60 to buy and smoke all the pot they want.
America needs to stop clogging up the courts with stupid pot busts.
And they need to leave old Willie alone.
Agree?

I Don't Care What Anyone Says
I Like Taylor Swift



I'm not a country music fan but I like this kid a lot.
She's 5'11" which is a nice tall drink o' water. She's turning 21 Dec. 13 but she cut her first album at age 16 and it was a hit.
She's got a good sense of humor, good comedic timing and a good singing voice.
Her main guitar (an acoustic) is covered in silver glitter.
She writes her own music and lyrics and I understand she has many hits.
Best of all, she has a cat face and cat eyes that make her look naughty, which flies in the face of her modest demeanor.
I also like that she chews up young men and spits them out, never choosing to stick around too long because she's got things to do and people to meet. That poor young Taylor Lautner was swept into her web, then she cast him aside and moved on.
Her affair with Joe Jonas ended badly, so she wrote a bitter but witty song about him being such a gutless scoundrel.
Rumor has it she even had a weekend with John Mayer, which ended with her tweeting a poem about him being such a dirty old man and a dick.
She's nobody's fool, that's for sure.

Tom Delay's To Do List



1. Ask Dick DeGuerin if he'll take non-sequential, unmarked cash payments.
2. Tell Perry I'll let him blow me if he pardons me.
3. Ask somebody what it costs to open a used car business in Sugarland.
4. Time to renew exterminator license.
5. Call ABC and ask if convicted felons can vote on Dancing With the Stars.
6. Put dancing costumes for sale on e-bay.
7. Ask somebody what it costs to open up a dance lesson studio.
8. Try to get my own reality show like Palin's.
9. Go on Glenn Beck's show and cry louder than he does.
10. Write an Op Ed piece about left wing media bias.
11. Find out what it costs to get a tea party membership.
12. Ask all those TX GOP guys I got elected for my money back.
13. Ask ABC if they are planning an 'All Stars' Dancing With the Stars show.
14. Ask about getting on Skating With the Stars.
15. Write a book about Jesus, Politics and Redemption
16. Call Bravo and see if they'll start a Real Housewives of Houston and get the wife to go on it. ($$$!)
17. Check on prices for a used exterminator van.
18. Check sofa cushions, jackets and pants for spare change.
19. Put Palin on Facebook friends list.
20. Learn to do the Twitter.

The Secret Diary Of Sarah Palin, Authoress



Aww jeeze here I go again on another book tour!!!
LOL!! When it came down to booktouring or taking care of Todd and all those those doggone kids, I got busy on my PeeCee and penned another great book, only with a little help from a "freindly ghost" (writer!LOL!)
Sure I could of stayed in Alaska but my public needs me like a fish needs a dog-gone glass of water. And speaking of fish, I caught a 25 pound halibut; well, it was for my new show so I didnt catch it per say but thru the magic of television it looked like I caught him. Anyhow, he was on deck wiggling his little heart out so I had to get my trusty seal club and bop him until the deed was did. Moreon that later.
Of course the leftwing media pundints went nucular over it like I was murdering someone like a human or something. Because they have to buy there halibut for a gajillion dollars a lb. at the market. Jealous much?! LOL!!
Actually I saw alot of simularities between that fish and my self; some times I feel like I'm about to be clubbed and eaten by you're average media type, irregardless of my stature as a former VeePee candidate.
So anyways, I jetted down to El Lay as much as I could of had time for; to watch Bris on Dancing with the Stars and my oh my what a star she turned into right before my eyes. Her costumes were a little on the risquay side but I asked her how she expected to find a new man all wrapped up like a Morman.
Anyways, she really improved but the left wing judges always gave her the bottom of the wrung scores because their soooo jealous of what shes always have.
Even though shes all ways been a little volumptious (that danm eskimo blood of Todds!!) she looked smokin hot out there with her partner Mark Balast. I wonder what kinda name Balast is, is it jewish or gay or what? Bris and me discussed it but we really cant tell whether hes "light in his loafers" or not. LOL! John McC taught me that one! LOL!
So anyways, some stupid pundint asked me if I thought I could beat Obama and I said heck yeah!! I should of said MYOB! LOL!!!
So Im keeping it on the QT but this booktour is sorta a fishing expedishion to feel the waters for a possible bid for the oval office come 2012 Time.
I dont know why they call it oval because in the pictres I seen it seems more round to me. Whatever!! LOL.
Oh I forgot to tell u the latest media attack against my family and I. My show Sarah Palins Alaska debewed debet opened with a huge audience, the hugest in the history of the channel its on, but week two the audience ALLEDGEDLY dropped by 40%. What a load of hockey pucks!!! Its a great show featuring all the grandure of my beautiful state with a lot of wholesome family values like fishin and huntin and all that good stuff. And of coarse the kids n Todd just luv being around me. Ever since I started earning the breadwinner; everyone in the Family really has been toeing the line with me--or no free trips or designer lables or a new snow machines every year for Todd; and your darn tootin' they know I mean business.
The media also asked me if Id let that _itch Katy Curick interview me again and I blasted em! I said "no way would I waste my time on her ever again!!!" Payback is a _itch, Baby!!! LOL! Heck I may as well go on Rachel Meadows' show and let her make googoo eyes at me!!! Or Keith Oberman!! Hes truely evil!!!
Anyways, Willow is making supper because tonite is the big nite---when Bris wins that gorgeous mirror ball trophy for being the best dancing with the stars dancer.
Shes (Willow's) makeing another salmon casserole which I am getting tired of but it beats me having to do it!!!LOL!
And Piper is being a good mama's little helper with that baby and all. Shes almost acting like he is her baby!! But of course shes too young to be anybodies mother.
Willow is another storey, but thats a subject for another day. Kids in Alaska sure grow up quick, thats all I can have the liberty of saying right now.
Anyways, I will be going to all the red states to sign my autographs on all those books, and this time I made them make a sign that says SIGNED COPYS CAN NOT BE RETURNED FOR REFUND OR EXCHANGE. We learned that one the hard way last go around. LOL!!
TaTa for now, dear diary. Maybe I should start calling it a journal, since I am a journalist n' all. "The Journal of Sarah Palin" hmm that has a good ring to it. LOL!!

Let's Connect the Dots, Shall We?



Suddenly, out of nowhere, American airline travelers trying to clear security have been given a choice between electronic body scans or manual pat-downs on every square inch of their bodies.
Sure, the body scans reveal too much of the anatomy and can cause embarrassment and potential exposure on the Internet, but would it be better to let some random airport security clerk feel you up from head to toe?
Some people are reluctant to be electronically screened because they fear exposure to radiation, especially pilots, flight attendants and frequent business travelers.
Some men and women have sensitive penises and/or nipples. A light stroke during a manual pat-down could easily result in hardened erectile tissue that could warrant closer, even more humiliating examination.
Neither option is suitable, and one wonders why the sudden introduction to these procedures without a big roll-out or even a governmental statement before the enhanced screening programs began.
Then I heard on the news the company that manufactures the enhanced body scanning machines have more than doubled the amount they spent last year on political lobbyists and campaign contributions.
So they set up a choice: have some potentially creepy weasel fondling breasts, buttocks, vaginas, penises and testicles to their heart's content, or have your body screened so the clerks can basically see what you look like totally nude.
In my opinion, most travelers would prefer not to have a stranger's hands on their entire bodies, so they'd opt for the still-invasive electronic option.
The sudden introduction of these so-called security measures made me suspicious--then when I heard about the lobbyists, it all fell into place.
This further proves that America has become a fascist nation, where corporations dictate to elected officials what their policies will be.
Politicians may enter office with a sincere desire to serve their constituents, but running for office is extremely expensive and Joe Sixpack's $20 annual contribution to the candidate of his choice isn't enough to get him or her elected...even for a local office like the city council or a school board.
To be sure, we need our airports to be as secure as the Tel Aviv airport, but decisions on how to detect malicious passengers should be based on reality, not on campaign donations made by slimy corporate lobbyists.
Obama's people are making all sorts of ludicrous statements trying to justify these two odious new search methods.
Et tu, Barack?

Skating With the Stars:
The Worst Show in the History of Network TV


ABC has a real flop on its hands with the debut of "Skating with the Stars."
Although I'm providing this photo of the "stars" on the show, I'm not going to identify them, just to prove they're a pack of nobodies that nobody will care about.
The premise is easy- they go out on the ice with pro partners and try not to fall down or lacerate themselves on their skate blades.
The judges are predictable: flagrant homosexual champion skater Jonny Weiss, ancient skating champ Dick Button and some black chick who claims to be a choreographer- not for ice, just regular dancing. She talks way too much and says way too little.
I willed myself to watch the entire show so I could provide my readers with an accurate assessment, but trust me, it won't happen again.
Take it from someone who'll watch almost any crap (including professional ice skating competitions) on TV, this show is a dud, an exceedingly bad rip-off of Dancing with the Stars, and even the host is someone you'd love to punch right in the mouth.
I hated it.
If you saw it (which I doubt) give us your take.

Oh for God's Sake



By now, everyone knows that Hog Bristle Palin has waddled into the finals of Dancing with the Stars. She beat out Brandi and Maks, who had earned a 30 out of 30 in their last dance.
She started out the season as shy and lacking confidence, with a complete lack of rhythm or musicality. Now she's very confident with a complete lack of rhythm or musicality.
It's obvious the teabaggers have launched a national stuff the ballot campaign, which proves once and for all they don't care what their horse lacks, they just want their horse to win.
When they interview Bristle as to her reaction to getting into the finals, she says, "I think I deserve to be here because I've worked my butt off."
First of all, her large butt and thighs are still fully present, so she hasn't worked anything off. And secondly, her newly found self confidence is making her as obnoxious as her dominating mother.
She's not intelligent, her disposition is lousy and her only talent so far is the ability to breed.
After the results were announced, a guy who looks a lot like Wilfred Brimley took out his shotgun and blasted his TV screen to smithereens. The cops came and there was a brief stand-off before he was arrested.
If I could afford it, I'd do the same damn thing.
I'm pretty sure ABC executives are freaking out about now.
If Palin wins, everyone to the left of Gunga Din will boycott the show, me included.
But truth be told, ABC has already let this go too far.
The judges should get 70 percent and the TV viewers should get 30 percent of who gets the boot and who gets to stay.
Palin and her mama's teabagger pals have managed to ruin what used to be a really good show. I liked her better when she was a self conscious lump.
Are you watching this season? What do you think of her dancing?

It Must Be Love



Oh, brother.
Chaz Bono brought his girlfriend to the premiere of his mom's new movie "Burlesque."
I'm not a body language expert, but I know enough to know when someone is more interested in publicity than the man she's with.
Chaz has his eyes closed while kissing, while whatshername gives a big gummy smile right into the camera lens.
Maybe Chaz should stop chasing bimbos for a while, get his ass to a gym and start losing some of that fat. A hundred extra pounds is too much extra to lug around, and it obviously attracts the wrong kind of woman.
If having complicated sexual reassignment surgery was do-able for Chaz, how hard could a lap-band procedure be?
This is a disturbing photo on way too many levels.
Make it stop!

The Secret Diary of George W. Bush


Dear dairy,
I tell ya what, this booktour is a whole lotta hard work.
First off, I gotta keep all the facts straight when I answer to the pundints' questions, or else, I end up on the huffington post looking like some kinda dumbass.
But one really good idea was adding that story about Ma showing me that dead baby in the maynnaise jar. I think it showed the people how impressionistick I was as a boy and how it moulded my strong chararter in General as a grownup.
I went on Ophars show, and, man I thought she was really gonna stick it up my ass what with her being in love with Obama, and all, but she really went for the tears and all that schtick my people told me to pull so shed go easy on me and she did.
Man, I thought she was almost gonna make me some chicken and corn bread before it was all over. And she didnt come out an say it but I think she thinks Conyay West is a asshole just like I do.
Anyhow; this tour is turning out to be really good because i am reminding the fans what a patriot I am and how many really hard decision points i had to make as #43.
And I was sure to jab in there the bit about feeling sorry that the photographer took my pic in air force one as i was looking at the katrina damage from way far above it all. Because I didnt want to drain resources and all that. Whatever.
And man I've really been sticking it to Dick Chainey, also too. Now people know for sure he was not the boss of me and that I served at his pleasure, not the other way around, as the old saying use to go.
And I tell them sure I really love Sara Palin because them teabaggers will read any book about their idle Sara Palin!!! Do I hope she becomes president oneday? HA!HA!HA! who gives a shit?
Anyways, thats my dairy entrance for today. I'll try to write more pretty soon when I'm not out their selling a tons of my new book. But one thing is for sure: the kind of money this book is makeing for me makes the jack I made at the Whitehouse look like chicken scratch.
I may even haul off and write a nother one soon since this one has been so lucr lukr much of a moneymaker for me.!!!

The Public Relations/Marketing Accomplishment of the Century



How did pomegranates go from being junk fruit to nutritional super stardom?
As a kid, I recall pomegranate trees all over the neighborhood. The edible part was hard to appreciate because like artichokes, it took too much work for too little reward.
Pomegranates back then were far more useful as projectile weapons in playground wars, or pecked at by birds to produce more colorful poop.
At no point did my mother ever suggest we gather pomegranates as a fruit salad additive, a cocktail base or pie fixin's.
Like all fruit, pomegranates contain beneficial nutrients and vitamins, but how did they suddenly surpass apples, oranges and bananas in nutritional value?
It seems to me some crafty pomegranate tree growers hired a brilliant PR team to create a campaign of stratospheric success. One good campaign led to another, and now we are a nation that tries to use the sparse meat of the fruit in every conceivable combination.
I have never tried pomegranate juice, a pomegranate martini or any recipe that includes the seedy bits, but I have tasted pomegranates and I fail to see what all the hubbub is about.
The sudden upgrade in the status of pomegranates, like the teabagger movement, has been a remarkable marketing ploy that took something basically unappealing and made it into a sensation.
Yes, folks, pomegranates are the Sarah Palin of fruits.
You can have my share.

Enough is Enough.



I'm not entirely sure why this particular election dragged me to the end of my political rope, but it did.
From the first day I was eligible to vote, my late mother would drag me to the polls for any election, from local school boards to state and national races, voting was an activity Mom and I always shared with a passion.
On election day this year, I happily went to my precinct to get rid of Texas GOP Governor Rick the Prick Perry as well as several other scumbag GOP liars who needed to go.
Alas, someone must have slipped and blabbed to the GOP that they could pull one lever to vote a straight Republican slate, and they did it in droves.
This entire election season was peppered with vile, deceitful TV ads that were more about personalities than policies. Even the Democrats put out some gratuitously vicious ads this cycle.
I knew when the Supreme Court okayed unlimited, anonymous, corporate contributions, the right's effort to turn America into a fascist nation was a fait accompli.
Voting has become an exercise in futility.
Even my big sister, who's been up to her neck in politics throughout her career as an attorney for the state, had to literally be pushed by her persistent partner to the school across the street to vote.
But I see now why she was stricken with a bad case of Why the Fuck Bother.
Without one shot being fired, the right-wing and even worse, the teabaggers, have stolen our nation from us.
The crowning blow for me was one particular local race for judge.
The incumbent was a very competent lesbian who was respected and well liked among her peers.
Her opponent was a smarmy closet case lesbian, whose physician husband's salary allowed her to dabble in practicing law whenever she felt like it.
She managed to befriend a group of A-List lesbians and gay men who enabled her to get in good with the leadership of the local chapter of the Human Rights Campaign.
She donated more than $1,200 to the HRC, while the lesbian incumbent apparently lacked the funds to do the same.
Long story short, the HRC did not endorse the slimy Republican, but nor did they endorse the incumbent, clearly because she failed to pay up. The smarmy bitch won.
That did it for me.
Even the politi-queers put money before principles and the HRC is dead to me now.
I can't wait till they call me for an annual donation so I can blast whoever placed the call.
Fuck politics.
Fuck voting.
Fuck the pundits, the exit polls and the whole shifty process.

Thanks Dusty

A hat tip to my old friend Dusty for remodeling Pulp Friction, adding a new link to my favorite blogs and just being there in general. You're the best, Dusty.

That Felt Good.



I love being a liberal Texan on election day.
See, I can look at the biggest, stupidest redneck Republican and say to his face, "I cancelled out your vote, Bubba."
I love knowing that all political ads on TV will cease tomorrow.
I love anticipating the national election results on MSNBC, with plenty of left-wing commentary to go with it.
I may not love any teabaggers who may get elected, but I will love watching them screw up whatever state was stupid enough to elect them.
I mean, you know teabaggers are idiots when a red state like Texas hasn't got one prominent teabagger on the ballot.
That means there was no reason for Sarah Palin to visit Texas during this election cycle, which was an added bonus.
Yep, voting in Texas feels damn good.
Did you vote today?

What's Next for This Creep?



Charlie Sheen was rushed to a NYC hospital in the wee hours of Tuesday morning after a major, drunken freak-out at a hotel.
The prostitute who was with Sheen at the time said he was screaming and throwing furniture all over the hotel, causing at least $7,000 worth of damage. She told police she "feared for her life."
Sheen was in NYC with his ex-wife Denise Richards and their daughters, who were staying in a separate room from Sheen. They had gone to the theatre and to dinner earlier that night.
Sheen has one month left on his probation for spousal abuse in Colorado, and consuming alcohol is definitely a term of his probation.
His attorney claimed Sheen "...had experienced an averse reaction to a prescribed medication he was taking."
Is this a bad joke?
The guy is a drug addicted, alcoholic woman beater who's been in and out of rehab more than anyone in Hollywood. He defines a Teflon personality.
His show's producer said production of his show, "Two and a Half Men" would resume as soon as Sheen returned to California.
If ordinary people are expected to obey the law, not beat-up anyone, not pull knives on people when they're dead drunk, not to keep repeating and treating rehab like it's a silly joke, not to drive their $100,000 cars off the same cliff twice, and not to be assholes in general, can someone please tell me how Sheen keeps getting away with all of it?
Why would any television network continue to tolerate this criminal as one of their VIP stars? If they had even an ounce of integrity, they would put principle above profits and make an example of this slime ball.
Are you as outraged as I?
Tell us about it.

I Miss You, Lyndon.



My big brother Billy lives about 90 miles north of me, and when I drive up to visit him the highway I take goes the route to the LBJ ranch and crosses his beloved Pedernales River.
I am forever reminded what a great president he was, and I need to explain why I think so.
After John F. Kennedy was assassinated, he left several major, controversial projects on his desk in the Oval Office.
Johnson, who most people outside of Texas considered an oafish, redneck clown, went all-in and forced the passage of Medicare and civil rights legislation that forever changed the fates of elderly people and minorities for the better.
And by "forced the passage," I mean he literally approached defiant Senators and threatened to ruin them and their careers if they didn't vote his way. And by God, LBJ had the clout to do it.
As an example of LBJ's style, have you ever heard of Pat Nugent? No? Here's why. Pat Nugent had the nerve to marry LBJ's youngest daughter, Luci Baines, and he was promptly given a well-paid management job with KLBJ, the radio station Lady Bird owned. Once Nugent had done Lucy Baines wrong and they divorced, LBJ fired him and he was banished from any seeking any gainful employment in the United States from then on. He's now self-publishing some little two-bit, obscure directory in Austin.

LBJ's courage in forcing through civil rights and Medicare cost him and his beloved Texas dearly.
Moderate and conservative Texas Democrats with racist tendencies defected to the Republican party and turned Texas from a blue state to a red state, and it's remained red ever since.
Besides civil rights and Medicare legislation, Johnson also had the pressing matter of the Vietnam war weighing heavily on him.
People like me took to the streets to protest the war by the tens of thousands, and we hated Johnson for his hawkish stance.
In fact, when it was time to run for re-election, a weary, long haired LBJ politely declined the opportunity and stepped away from politics forever.
In his heart, I believe Johnson wanted to end the war. But he had thrown his helmet over the fence and he had no choice but to retrieve it.
Oh, how I wish we had Johnson in office today.
The Republican bullies and teabaggers of today would have been tamed like Pit Bull puppies by Johnson, through diplomacy, threats or whatever means required to shut them the fuck up.
Johnson was a mean, calculated bastard when it came to getting his way.
But outside of his unpopular stance on the Vietnam war, his way was often the right way for the American people who deserved a strong advocate in the White House.
Unlike Obama, Johnson would never have dreamed of entering office with an aim to Kumbaya the Republicans. He hated Republicans because they stood for the same kind of shit they stand for now.
If LBJ was president now, crooks like Tom DeLay would be dancing with the convicts. Bill Frist would be working as a volunteer at some free clinic in the boondocks. Newt Gingrich would be a castrati singing in a boy's choir. As for Sarah Palin, first Johnson would have fucked her on the Oval Office desk, then exiled her to Wasilla for life.
For all his backwoods oafishness, Lyndon Johnson was a brilliant politician who knew exactly how the game was played, and how to work the odds to his favor.
As a Democrat, I am adamant in saying we need another strong Democratic bastard or bitch in the White House, who wants to serve the people and not the Republicans, the military industrial complex or the corporate suits whose greed is insatiable.
I think the closest thing we have to an LBJ type today is Hillary Clinton.
I wanted her to be our next president in 2008 because I sensed her hawkishness was a necessary ploy to appeal to the bloodthirsty among us. As a woman, she had to amplify her willingness to wage war, and anyone who doesn't get that is naive.
Hillary has backbone. Hillary is feared. Hillary, simply put, has the same sized balls as LBJ, and we need that right now.
I think LBJ would have liked Hillary. I think they would have been kindred spirits.
And if we can't have LBJ, we can and should have Hillary as our next Commander in Chief.
She's been a loyal soldier to Obama. But she's not Secretary of State to serve him, she's there to serve us. And she would serve us well as our next president.

I'm Christine O'Donnell and I Am You.
a paid political ad



Hello. My name is Christine O'Donnell and I'm running for the senator of Delaware.
I'm not a witch, I am you, and you're not a witch, now are you?
Like you, I'm a Virgo, but also too like you, I think astrology is the devil's datebook.
A lot has been said about my stance against masturbation, but like you, I don't do it, never have done it and never will do it, because like you I think it's the devil's jazz hands looking for cheap thrills, and it's just wrong with a capital R.
Like you, I am a Roman Catholic from a large, Irish family. We are just like the Kennedys, except we are not adulterers, murderers, sex fiends or Democrats.
In fact, we are so wholesome, my father used to fill in for Bozo the Clown when we lived in Philadelphia, which is your hometown just like mine.
Like you, I love Philly cheese steaks, only without the green peppers because you and I get gassy when we eat them.
Like you, I am 41-years-old and have never married. I enjoy celibacy, just like you do. There's nothing I hold dearer than holding my Holy Bible to my heaving bosom and calling Jesus Christ's name out loud as I feel the rapture. Sound familiar? I thought so.
Like you, I probably graduated from an ivy league college with honors. And of course you and I did graduate work at Columbias University, where we may have majored in English literature or public relations.
Like you, I don't think Darwin's theory is nothing more than one crazy man's opinion, because we believe that God created the Earth in 7 days just like it says in the Bible. Or maybe it was six days and then a day off for church, but God did it and you and I know it.
If we were descended from monkeys, why aren't monkeys still turning into humans and evoluting like the left-wing atheists say they did? When a lady gets married and has a baby, if evoluting exists then why doesn't she give birth to a baby monkey who changes into a human at age 2 or 3? See? Just like you, I don't buy into these insulting theories when God's Good Book explains about how Adam and Eve turned into human beings so they could learn to love Jesus like you and I do.
Like you, I bailed on a mortgage and was almost evicted until my then-attorney/ boyfriend bought the house. And like you, when we were together we did not have sex because we did not marry.
Also too like you, the IRS filed an $11,000 lien against me this year for failure to pay back taxes. Like you, I was singled out for being different and not giving in to the IRS agent's perverted sexual demands.
I am you. We both oppose abortion, even in cases of rape or incest. But if the mother's life is in jeopardy, then her husband should get to decide who dies.
I am Christine O'Donnell and I am you.
Jesus wants me to be the senator from Delaware and so are you.
So, thank you, and may the saints be with you before the devil even knows that you're dead.

Why I Have No Objections to Straight Men



Thanks to Nailing Jello to the Wall for allowing me to steal this without permission

Virginia and Uncle Tom Thomas



I could probably build up a huge head of steam and write a diatribe about the gall Virginia Thomas had in calling Anita Hill with a demand for an apology for "what she did to her husband" during his Supreme Court confirmation hearings.
She called it, "extending an olive branch." What fucking gall.
By now, everyone knows I think "Justice" Thomas is a filthy scumbag grifter and pervert, but I have two simple words for his idiotic wife:
Fuck you.

A Word About Macarons



French macarons have to be among the world's most beautiful cookies, and I'm sure they are a hassle to make.
Before I got to Paris, I was jonesing to try one and it's one of the first things I did when I arrived. I bought three big ones to share, in raspberry, chocolate and orange.
They were very odd but delicious--a firm meringue filled with jammy stuff or flavored cream, but one was enough to hold us. They are expensive as hell--one Euro per cookie, which amounts to about $1.28.
Then when I went to dinner at a friend's house later in the week, they served a huge pile of them for dessert. They were the smaller variety so I ate about three of them, in coffee flavor, pistachio and one other flavor I forget.
I have to wonder why they have yet to catch on in the United States.
It's like trying to find a cupcake in Paris--very rare.
Macarons sort of symbolize Paris-- very odd but delicious.
Have you tried one? What flavor? Did you like it?

Zipdrive Rates the Real Housewives



There currently are five Real Housewives franchises on Bravo TV: The Real Housewives of Orange County, The Real Housewives of New York City, The Real Housewives of Atlanta, The Real Housewives of New Jersey and the newest version, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

Here are my ratings, from best to worst.

1. The Real Housewives of Atlanta.
They are hilarious, bitchy, quick witted and likable. They also are more camp than a cruise liner filled with gay men. And singer/housewife Kandi Burris is amazingly talented, for real and funny. Black women are often natural comedians, and these bitches really bring it. Housewife Kim Zolziac recorded a song called, "Don't Be Tardy for the Party," with the help of Kandi Burris and a shitload of Autotune. Now she's a gay-boy icon, but her natural singing voice is tres Olive Oyl.
2. The Real Housewives of New York City.
Hey, I happen to love New York Jews, and this show brings a couple of doozies. Though not as campy as Atlanta, with NYC as a backdrop it's enough like Sex & the City to make it worth watching. Housewife Kelly Bensimon is certifiably insane, which adds to the show's elan. And the so-called Countess Luann DeLesepps recorded a particularly obnoxious song called, "Elegance Is Learned." I'd love to punch her in the neck.
3. The Real Housewives of New Jersey.
While the Jersey housewives and their families vehemently deny any Mafia connections, there's a lot of fishy stuff going on. Plus they have some ridiculous wives on this show--like Danielle Staub, the craziest, meanest bitch ever to draw a Bravo paycheck. She's been fired for being so horrible, but there's still Theresa, her mobbed-up husband Joe and their bratty, sequined and bedazzled daughters.
When I watch this show, my TV starts to smell like oregano. I love it.
4. The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.
With just one show in the can, it's hard to tell how this one will turn out, but the bitches are all filthy rich and have a lot of B and C List Hollywood connections. So far I haven't spotted a housewife with whom I feel any attachment, but it's too soon to tell.
5. The Real Housewives of Washington, DC.
The Mean girls pick on (justifyably or not) Michaila, the publicity whore and her putz of a husband Tariq, whose major claim to fame was crashing the first White House State Dinner. None of the wives seem like anyone you'd want to have a drink with, except for maybe the lone African American woman and her cool husband, who seem pretty real. Cat, the British housewife, is meaner than a drunk London fishwife, and seems not to understand when to hold her acid tongue. I like her, but first I'd like to slap her just to get things off on a even keel.
5. The Real Housewives of Orange County.
If you like vapid women filled with silicone, spray tans and outrageous materialism, this is the show for you. None of the characters, the men in their lives, or their children have any appeal whatsoever. If I had to spend time with any of them I believe I'd have to slash my wrists. After viewing it for one season, I had to stop watching it. It makes me wish for an Orange County earthquake, and that's not good.
Do you watch any of these? Which is your favorite?

Loved the Pissy Little Cars in Paris





We have Smart cars in the United States, but somehow the sight of so many of them in Paris made me laugh out loud whenever I saw one.
Of course parking is at a premium in such a highly populated city, but their parking style was totally hilarious.
Most people know how to parallel park. You pull your car even with the car in front of your desired spot, then you cut your wheel to the right, slide in and then adjust your car so it's equidistant to the front and back cars you parked between.
Not in Paris.
In Paris, you back into the spot until you firmly hit the car behind you. Then you pull forward until you hit the car in front of you just as firmly. Then you put the car into reverse and hit the car in back again, then pull forward until you hit the car in front good and hard. Mission accomplished.
Every single car in Paris is dented front and back. From Smart cars to Mercedes to Ferraris, all have dented front and back fenders.
Nobody cares, it's simply the way it's done.
There also are about 40 million motorcycles and scooters in Paris. With petrol about $6 a gallon, it's no wonder.
But the coolest thing I saw were huge lines of green bicycles for rent every few blocks. You simply swipe a card, grab a bike and off you go. You get each bike for 30 minutes, then you have to drop it off at another bike line and grab another one.
The sight of a Paris fashion model-type jumping on one of those bikes with her tight pencil skirt and long legs pedaling fast in the middle of car and motorcycle traffic was tres magnifique. Even people in their 70s and 80s rode those green rental bikes. It was very cool to watch, and one more reason why Parisians tend not to be big, fat slobs.

Where Else Can You Do This?




Yet another fond memory of Paris--touring Rodin's beautiful museum, set in a hotel he used to frequent.
It was filled to the brim with so many of his exquisite sculptures, making it almost impossible not to want to reach out and caress the marble or bronze he used as a medium.
The grounds were manicured to perfection and the weather was glorious, and there we discovered a lovely little cafe where we stopped for lunch. Somehow the idea of eating a sandwich in the shadows of The Thinker, whose ass faces the street for all to see, is particularly alluring.
Paris is a panorama of sights to behold. I thought Tokyo was a shrine to aesthetics but compared to Paris, Tokyo may as well be Beaumont, Texas.
Paris is like a tattoo you didn't realize you were getting until you got home. Almost once an hour Paris enters my mind like a great love affair that lasted way too brief a time.
If anyone doubts that George W. Bush and the right-wing are imbeciles, look no further than their aversion to all things French.
And even though they substitute butter for mayo on their sandwiches, they are forgiven.
On this Friday night, I'd love to be drinking a great bottle of wine at some Parisian outdoor cafe with people I love.

...another Thing About Paris



At the time I was there I missed knowing what was going on in America. We had a little TV in our flat, but the only thing we could get was a non-stop Paris show about fashion models and Jay Leno, only without commercials.

Now that I'm back I'm reminded how we are circling the drain financially, culturally and intellectually in America, and there's not much of a god-damned thing any of us can do about it.

It was fun to walk around in Paris not knowing the historic significance of much beyond the big stuff like the Arc de Triomph, the Eiffel Tower and the Mona Lisa being at the Louvre. For instance, I have no idea anymore what this photo represents, but I'm sure it must have had something to do with a battle, a victory or something the French said or did better than their competitors.

It was nice going to a nearby newsstand and asking in my horrible French if they had any magazines or newspapers written in English, only to have the arrogant clerk proclaim proudly,"Non!"
See, I think the French may like us individually, as long as we don't invade their country or cities with our fanny packs filled with tour guides and acting like rude, demanding assholes who demand everything be Americanized for our convenience.

If I knew at age 14 I'd end up liking Paris as much as I did, I would have started learning French back then, so I could actually earn enough money to live there as a writer, painter or even as a chef. I could see myself living in a tiny, free rent closet atop the Shakespeare bookshop and trying to write something publishable.

The trouble with discovering a new place to love is when you're there you long for home and when you get home you always remember more things about the other place you didn't have time to see.

There are some things I do not miss about Paris.

For one, those omnipresent skinny baguettes would rip up my palate and damn near scare the porcelain crowns right off my teeth. They reminded me of eating artichokes: too much work for too little reward.
For another, they have these heavy, annoying 1 and 2 Euro coins they just love to fob off on customers. But if you try to pay for, say, a 20 Euro dinner with 20 Euros worth of coins, they look at you like you're some broke-ass chump who had to raid her cookie jar just to scrape together enough pennies to eat.
And while I liked the antiquity of cobblestone streets and sidewalks, those little bitches are hard to walk on after about 20 minutes.

I realize that in not knowing enough French to understand what was going on around me in Paris, I was freed from the excess political and celebrity curiosity I have in America. Though I missed not knowing what was going on in the States, at least my brain had time to rest, my feathers had time to unruffle, and so did my typing fingers.

Egads!



Tonight on Dancing With the Stars I watched Britney ooops Bristol Palin dance the rumba.
She was trying to dance sexy, but she's like that woman we've all slept with (well, many of us) who's a dead fish in bed.
Even though her parents, the Panderin' Palins were in the audience, the judges yelled at her and basically told her she was talentless, which she is. She scored a 32 out of a possible 60, if that tells you anything.
I wish we could pay to vote people out instead of call to vote people to stay.
I'd spend a C note to send that ditz back to Wasilla.

Who Says Lawyers are Sleazy?



I had a great laugh at this ad. I already think a lot of defense attorneys are shady, but this broad takes the cake.
Oh wait, I may have been mistaken.
I think perhaps THIS lawyer takes the cake:

Fancy Pants Paris Chips



When we spotted this bag of chips in a nearby bodega, we had to try them out.
Bolognaise flavor, really?
Turns out they were pretty good, sort of like BBQ chips without the smoke flavorings.
Which brings me to my point.
Bolognaise is an Italian sauce, not a French sauce.
But in Paris, almost every restaurant offered some kind of pasta dish because pasta is cheap and people like it. Parisian restaurateurs are wising up.
Poor Paris, for centuries they've had one style of cooking. You cook some kind of protein in a pan, deglaze the pan with butter, cream or wine, then pour that sauce over the cooked protein.
But with so many immigrants opening ethnic restaurants to rave reviews, it's no wonder products like Lays Bolognaise chips have invaded.

For example, I had this at a Japanese restaurant in the 4th district. Skewers of beef, chicken, chicken meatballs, cheese and mushrooms. Deeelicious, and it wasn't French at all.
Times are changing for culinary France.
Nouvelle French cuisine grills and roasts more proteins, creates sauces from fruits or vegetables instead of just pan scrapings, and they go a lot lighter on the cream and butter.
But they still think salad comes after the appetizer and entree, just before dessert.

Dancing With the Scars

Oh, no.

I've been a little late to the party in terms of viewing the new season of Dancing With the Stars, but I made it a point to watch it tonight because my lurid curiosity about Bristol Palin could no longer be quelled.

Yeah, yeah, we all know she's a shy teen/unwed mother from Wasilla, Alaska who should not be judged too harshly because she's not a professional entertainer and...aww, bullshit!

It's called "Dancing With the Stars," not "Boot Scootin' With the Trailer Trash."

There's no reason why the American TV audience should have to be subjected to this hog on ice whose only claims to fame are a greedy mother with borderline personality disorder and a slacker baby-daddy who was and is way too hot for the likes of this sister wife-lookin' chick.

In a sense, Bristol Palin is even more obnoxious than former contestants like Tom DeLay, Kate Gosslein or Wayne Newton because at least those hams tried to put on a show.

Bristol Palin just sort of stands there and forces her dance partner Mark Ballas to drag her from point A to point B. And it's not a light haul for him, either.

While I'm the first to admit my body is hardly that of a dancer's, I'm not on stage anywhere subjecting anyone to my total absence of dancing ability and my zaftigity.

Her baby is a one-year-old.

The baby weight should be gone by now. God knows her mama can afford to hire a personal trainer for her so she could work off some of that mucktuck she's got around her belly, ass and thighs before she hit the stage of DWtS.

To me, her lack of talent and apparent lack of interest in the show (other than financial) is insulting. For her to show up so out of shape and so lackluster proves to me she's a lot like her mother--she'll do anything for money.

Fortunately, the judges don't seem to give a damn about teabaggers calling in death threats, because they are calling her dancing as they see it and blasting her for it.

If the first two contestants voted off were those creeps David Hasslehoff and Michael Bolton, it makes me think the judges are boldly thinning out the herd early.

If that's the case, Bristol won't last long.

I mean come on, The Situation also is a contestant, but at least he showed up in great shape.

Oh No, No, No.

It makes me sick that the U.S. State Department is warning American tourists, students and business people to be extremely careful while visiting Europe.
It seems Osama bin Laden and his gang of godless idiots are hatching plans to go after metros, trains and places where tourists congregate, like the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, etc. etc.
Having just visited the tower, I can vouch for their security. It was almost comforting to see so many clusters of heavily armed SWAT soldiers standing at the ready. I seriously doubt any terrorists can get close enough to the tower to mess with it.
While we were inside the Louvre, there were three danger alerts. Metal curtains closed over all the windows and people were asked to leave the building. However, museum employees seemed pretty blase about the whole thing and told us we could just ignore the alarms and directives to leave the building. Perhaps they should rethink their laxity.
It's the trains and metros that worry me. During rush hour those things are so stacked with people it's a wonder all the different colognes don't create a toxic, combustible cloud.
By day six of our visit we blew off the metro and started taking taxis everywhere. They weren't that expensive when split three ways, and they were a lot cleaner and less jostling than the metro, not to mention those endless stairways I hated so much.
When 9/11 occurred, it seemed to me NYC and the WTC were natural targets for those terrorist bastards. The world embraced NYC as their own and we all felt the sorrow and rage.
Now I'm worried that cities like Paris, Rome, London, Amsterdam, Berlin, Madrid and so on will have to endure similar assaults. Terrorists don't give a damn about history or art treasures or human lives--they just like to create maximum havoc, and for what? Do any of us know for sure what they are after?
The State Department's warning is set to last until January 11. The randomness of the date makes me think the spy chatter that triggered these warnings must be pretty damn specific.
It's worrisome.
What advice do you have for Americans traveling to Europe?

This was a shop window in the middle of a trendy street filled with clothing boutiques and perfume shops.
Even though the tools and other hardware look kind of beat to hell, they are probably hundreds of years old and still function perfectly.
I imagined myself bringing home a nice hatchet for my brother Billy. "Here's a souvenir I got you from Paris, Billy."
"Huh?"
"Yes, I thought you might like it better than a baseball cap."


Here is a self portrait of my foot standing on one of their famous hobblestone streets. If the endless flights of stairs don't get you, these streets will. Even with high tech, stretch-o-matic woven leather shoes guaranteed to last at least 100,000 miles, my dogs were always barking loud enough to wake up the neighborhood. By the time I got home, I had twin Achille's tendonitis, trick knees, aching quads and glutes that could crack walnuts. How those Paris fashionistas can rock stilettos is the mystery of the ages.