Frankly, I wouldn't pay fifty cents to hear Britney Spears "sing," but I'll bet the ticket for the now-infamous Australia show were upwards of $50.
I'll tell you right now, I shell out good money for a concert and go to all the trouble of going, that bitch better be singing live. She should pay everyone back their money.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Thinking of cats past: Muffet
My arms remember the feel of cats past. My ears remember their purrs and meows. I can breathe in the memory of their spicy-musky scent. All of their antics, all of the fun we had is secure in my memory. No two have been alike.
Heaven for me would be a comfortable armchair, all the books I didn't have time to read - and my favorites to re-read. An unending supply of all my favorite snacks. And most important: all my past cats taking turns purring in my lap.
My first cat was a green-eyed shorthaired tom cat, inexplicably named Muffet. We had just moved to Hastings, Nebraska, and I was going to start first grade in the fall. Across the street was a ramshackle two-story house that always seemed to have dozens of cats running around. The back screen door was visible from our front yard, because it and our house sat on corners, facing different streets.
I had spent weeks watching kittens of assorted sizes running around that house, going in and out through a tear in the screen door. I'd go across the street to see if I could play with them, but they'd all run and hide. Sometimes it was like a river of cats going in that screen door.
After a month or so, I became determined to catch one. I hid around the corner of the house and waited. A little orange tabby stuck its head out, looked right at me, and went back in. Then a little black and white kitten peeked out, but only looked in the other direction. It jumped out and padded off the way it had been looking, and I tiptoed after it and caught it. I carried it across the street, went inside my house, and told Mom I found it on the porch and could I keep it.
Well, I would never have a career as a con artist. Besides the fact I've always been a transparent liar, my Mother had watched the whole thing through the picture window. Amazingly, she told me that if I asked the lady who lived there if I could have the kitten, and she said yes, I could keep it.
Pathologically shy, I looked down at the kitten who looked back up at me, and went back across the street and knocked on the back door. When the lady answered, I murmured my request.
She answered, "Why, of course! Are you sure you want that one? Come on in and pick another one if you want." So I went inside.
I will never forget that room. It reeked of cat pee. The only thing in there besides cats was a brown sofa, laying on its back, shredded. You could see the springs. There were cats and kittens everywhere. I looked at them and then back at the kitten who had settled into my arms and begun to purr. He had little white mittens and boots, a white chin, and half a white mustache on his little black face. The mustache gave him a rakish look. I thanked her kindly, and said I'd keep this one. She ushered me out and told me to come back anytime.
Muffet (where did I get that name?) and I had a seven year relationship. I'll tell some of his stories in the next few blogs.
Heaven for me would be a comfortable armchair, all the books I didn't have time to read - and my favorites to re-read. An unending supply of all my favorite snacks. And most important: all my past cats taking turns purring in my lap.
My first cat was a green-eyed shorthaired tom cat, inexplicably named Muffet. We had just moved to Hastings, Nebraska, and I was going to start first grade in the fall. Across the street was a ramshackle two-story house that always seemed to have dozens of cats running around. The back screen door was visible from our front yard, because it and our house sat on corners, facing different streets.
I had spent weeks watching kittens of assorted sizes running around that house, going in and out through a tear in the screen door. I'd go across the street to see if I could play with them, but they'd all run and hide. Sometimes it was like a river of cats going in that screen door.
After a month or so, I became determined to catch one. I hid around the corner of the house and waited. A little orange tabby stuck its head out, looked right at me, and went back in. Then a little black and white kitten peeked out, but only looked in the other direction. It jumped out and padded off the way it had been looking, and I tiptoed after it and caught it. I carried it across the street, went inside my house, and told Mom I found it on the porch and could I keep it.
Well, I would never have a career as a con artist. Besides the fact I've always been a transparent liar, my Mother had watched the whole thing through the picture window. Amazingly, she told me that if I asked the lady who lived there if I could have the kitten, and she said yes, I could keep it.
Pathologically shy, I looked down at the kitten who looked back up at me, and went back across the street and knocked on the back door. When the lady answered, I murmured my request.
She answered, "Why, of course! Are you sure you want that one? Come on in and pick another one if you want." So I went inside.
I will never forget that room. It reeked of cat pee. The only thing in there besides cats was a brown sofa, laying on its back, shredded. You could see the springs. There were cats and kittens everywhere. I looked at them and then back at the kitten who had settled into my arms and begun to purr. He had little white mittens and boots, a white chin, and half a white mustache on his little black face. The mustache gave him a rakish look. I thanked her kindly, and said I'd keep this one. She ushered me out and told me to come back anytime.
Muffet (where did I get that name?) and I had a seven year relationship. I'll tell some of his stories in the next few blogs.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
What is this Jon and Kate crap, anyway?
I don't watch reality TV so I may be missing something here. From what I can tell, these people are famous and have their own show because they have 8 kids. Evidently the first two weren't sufficient, so they did in vitro or fertility drugs or whatever and added sextuplets.
So they have 8 kids under the age of 10, and decided it would be a wonderful idea to put their family on national TV. And now, big surprise (I mean that in deepest sarcasm) are having marital trouble.
Ya think?
Why anyone should be famous for having a lot of kids is just plain beyond me. My great-grandparents raised 13 without the aid of fertility drugs, in vitro, or national television. And they did it on one salary without nannies/au pairs/day care. Crap, they deserve medals!
So they have 8 kids under the age of 10, and decided it would be a wonderful idea to put their family on national TV. And now, big surprise (I mean that in deepest sarcasm) are having marital trouble.
Ya think?
Why anyone should be famous for having a lot of kids is just plain beyond me. My great-grandparents raised 13 without the aid of fertility drugs, in vitro, or national television. And they did it on one salary without nannies/au pairs/day care. Crap, they deserve medals!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Curly hair has become endangered!
Oh, my natural-curly sisters and brothers, it is time to band together as the vagaries of fashion have once again swung against us. As it was in the 1960s, the Gods of Beauty have decreed that all American hair must be straight.
I had seen that many celebrities with beautiful natural curls were straightening their hair, and sorrowed. Hollywood forces its women into such a narrow mold. But today I read an article on msn.com by a woman who says she went to a job interview with naturally curly hair, and didn't get the job because the interviewer thought she was too lazy to blow dry it straight. She went on to detail her frightfully expensive beauty-shop procedure - one that will only last until the next time she washes her hair - and how having Straight Hair changed her life. Lies, I tell you, lies.
Once again, my sisters and brothers, we have gone from being the envied to being the pariahs. Those of us who are old enough to remember the Dark Days of torturing our hair and ourselves to fit the straight-haired mold know what is coming. My sisters, you will spend hours and days of your lives trying to maintain a style that is artificial and harmful to your hair. I spent my entire adolescence keeping my hair straight. It was my only hobby, taking up nearly every moment I wasn't in school. Sisters, straightening your hair will steal your life.
Never again, I say to you! We will not let this happen again! Band together, oh curly ones! Resist the evil that once again stalks America. Wear your curls proudly. If anyone gives you grief, tell them straight hair is boring.
NEVER AGAIN WILL WE STRAIGHTEN!
I had seen that many celebrities with beautiful natural curls were straightening their hair, and sorrowed. Hollywood forces its women into such a narrow mold. But today I read an article on msn.com by a woman who says she went to a job interview with naturally curly hair, and didn't get the job because the interviewer thought she was too lazy to blow dry it straight. She went on to detail her frightfully expensive beauty-shop procedure - one that will only last until the next time she washes her hair - and how having Straight Hair changed her life. Lies, I tell you, lies.
Once again, my sisters and brothers, we have gone from being the envied to being the pariahs. Those of us who are old enough to remember the Dark Days of torturing our hair and ourselves to fit the straight-haired mold know what is coming. My sisters, you will spend hours and days of your lives trying to maintain a style that is artificial and harmful to your hair. I spent my entire adolescence keeping my hair straight. It was my only hobby, taking up nearly every moment I wasn't in school. Sisters, straightening your hair will steal your life.
Never again, I say to you! We will not let this happen again! Band together, oh curly ones! Resist the evil that once again stalks America. Wear your curls proudly. If anyone gives you grief, tell them straight hair is boring.
NEVER AGAIN WILL WE STRAIGHTEN!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Religion has nothing to do with it
The Octomom is all over the news, and true to form the right-wing nutjobs are all behind her. "The government paid for her in-vitro," they say. "Oh, the goverment will pay for anyone's. You don't need a job or anything."
Yeah, right. Anybody out there who's struggled to find a way to pay for in-vitro won't know whether to laugh or cry over that.
Octomom got 160K from worker's comp, which paid for her in-vitro AND all her plastic surgery. She showed up on awfulplasticsurgery.com, where her own family members offered the before and after shots. The woman is obsessed with Anglina Jolie, and has had her nose shaved and lips plumped to attempt to look like her.
Why all the babies? Well, the "religious" right would have you believe that she thinks like they do, that every fertilized egg has a soul, and she didn't want her "babies" thrown away. Bullshit. If she really thought that, she'd have made her babies the old-fashioned way, or gotten artificial insemination.
Now the important part: the babies, who didn't ask to be born to this lunatic. There is no earthly way one woman can even begin to parent fourteen children under the age of 8, eight of them babies, by herself. She wants a four-bedroom house, and to get a million dollars for an interview, and thinks everything will be just fine. Good God. My cousin had triplets, and they had to hire an au paire until the kids hit school. And that's with two homebody parents! These kids, in a best-case scenario, will have to be raised by a half a dozen nannies. That's not going to fit in a 4-bedroom house, and her million is going to dissolve fast - if she gets it at all - paying salaries of nannies and medical bills for her litter. One of the older ones already has major health problems. Just wait till they sort out the younger eight. I'll bet each of them will need his/her own specialist. Not to mention psycho-analysts.
Yeah, right. Anybody out there who's struggled to find a way to pay for in-vitro won't know whether to laugh or cry over that.
Octomom got 160K from worker's comp, which paid for her in-vitro AND all her plastic surgery. She showed up on awfulplasticsurgery.com, where her own family members offered the before and after shots. The woman is obsessed with Anglina Jolie, and has had her nose shaved and lips plumped to attempt to look like her.
Why all the babies? Well, the "religious" right would have you believe that she thinks like they do, that every fertilized egg has a soul, and she didn't want her "babies" thrown away. Bullshit. If she really thought that, she'd have made her babies the old-fashioned way, or gotten artificial insemination.
Now the important part: the babies, who didn't ask to be born to this lunatic. There is no earthly way one woman can even begin to parent fourteen children under the age of 8, eight of them babies, by herself. She wants a four-bedroom house, and to get a million dollars for an interview, and thinks everything will be just fine. Good God. My cousin had triplets, and they had to hire an au paire until the kids hit school. And that's with two homebody parents! These kids, in a best-case scenario, will have to be raised by a half a dozen nannies. That's not going to fit in a 4-bedroom house, and her million is going to dissolve fast - if she gets it at all - paying salaries of nannies and medical bills for her litter. One of the older ones already has major health problems. Just wait till they sort out the younger eight. I'll bet each of them will need his/her own specialist. Not to mention psycho-analysts.
Antichrist? Hitler? give me a break
I've been around a while, through a lot of elections, and this is the first time the lunatic fringe of the losing party has set out to literally demonize the new president.
Obama is being called everything from Hitler to the Antichrist by these nut-jobs. This is so outrageous I hardly know how to reply. When a woman who came once to my writing group said he reminded her of Hitler, I thought it was just one weirdo. But then I heard the same thing from a woman in my knitting group, who said Obama wants to take everyone's children away and raise them in state-run institutions, and I put it down to another weirdo. This same woman doesn't believe in dinosaurs because they aren't in the Bible. What are all the bones, I asked? Dragon bones. She believes in dragons because they're mentioned in the Bible.
But now I'm seeing this same crap spouting from mouths on TV, from people with actual educations. There are evidently a buttload of weirdos out there, and I find that very frightening. Obama has called for all Americans to pull together, to work with each other to get through this difficult time in our history, and these people are saying this is Hitler, the most evil man of the twentieth century? Do they not know what Hitler actually did?
And what's with this Antichrist stuff? The Antichrist is supposed to come from the East. Obama was born in Hawaii, for pity's sake. Now everywhere is east of somewhere, but you've got to stretch it an awful lot to make Hawaii the East. And have you read the description of the Antichrist in Revelation? So where's he hiding the tail? And the spikey scales? Get real!
I find it very typical of the right-wingers that they simply are incapable of trying to work for the common good. Not one of them will be happy until every person on earth thinks exactly like them.
I hope they stay unhappy for eternity.
Obama is being called everything from Hitler to the Antichrist by these nut-jobs. This is so outrageous I hardly know how to reply. When a woman who came once to my writing group said he reminded her of Hitler, I thought it was just one weirdo. But then I heard the same thing from a woman in my knitting group, who said Obama wants to take everyone's children away and raise them in state-run institutions, and I put it down to another weirdo. This same woman doesn't believe in dinosaurs because they aren't in the Bible. What are all the bones, I asked? Dragon bones. She believes in dragons because they're mentioned in the Bible.
But now I'm seeing this same crap spouting from mouths on TV, from people with actual educations. There are evidently a buttload of weirdos out there, and I find that very frightening. Obama has called for all Americans to pull together, to work with each other to get through this difficult time in our history, and these people are saying this is Hitler, the most evil man of the twentieth century? Do they not know what Hitler actually did?
And what's with this Antichrist stuff? The Antichrist is supposed to come from the East. Obama was born in Hawaii, for pity's sake. Now everywhere is east of somewhere, but you've got to stretch it an awful lot to make Hawaii the East. And have you read the description of the Antichrist in Revelation? So where's he hiding the tail? And the spikey scales? Get real!
I find it very typical of the right-wingers that they simply are incapable of trying to work for the common good. Not one of them will be happy until every person on earth thinks exactly like them.
I hope they stay unhappy for eternity.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Guess what? Humor is frequently offensive.
The movie Tropic Thunder has been getting press for being derogatory to mentally challenged people. I saw the movie, and frankly found it hysterical. Yes, the characters in the movie had several scenes in which they spoke badly of the mentally challenged, calling them 'retards.'
Was the sole purpose of the entire movie to be insulting to the mentally challenged? NO.
Were the men voicing these offensive opinions supposed in any way, shape, or form, meant to be role models? HELL NO.
The men offering the disrespect were a bunch of self-obsessed, self-indulgent, not terribly bright or talented actors, playing in a comedy in which they showed themselves to be plenty mentally challenged themselves. Not to mention morally, spiritually, and common-sense challenged. they were stereotypes, meant to poke fun at ACTORS.
Comedy pokes fun - at people, at situations, at life. Am I bent out of shape because blondes are frequently portrayed as stupid? Of course not! In the words of the immortal Dolly Parton: "I don't mind being called a dumb blonde, because I know I'm not dumb, and I know I'm not a real blonde."
Everyone needs to get a sense of humor and stop taking everything so personally.
Was the sole purpose of the entire movie to be insulting to the mentally challenged? NO.
Were the men voicing these offensive opinions supposed in any way, shape, or form, meant to be role models? HELL NO.
The men offering the disrespect were a bunch of self-obsessed, self-indulgent, not terribly bright or talented actors, playing in a comedy in which they showed themselves to be plenty mentally challenged themselves. Not to mention morally, spiritually, and common-sense challenged. they were stereotypes, meant to poke fun at ACTORS.
Comedy pokes fun - at people, at situations, at life. Am I bent out of shape because blondes are frequently portrayed as stupid? Of course not! In the words of the immortal Dolly Parton: "I don't mind being called a dumb blonde, because I know I'm not dumb, and I know I'm not a real blonde."
Everyone needs to get a sense of humor and stop taking everything so personally.
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