The first thing that came to mind when I read the title of this article, REM and Pearl Jam Support Barack Obama’s Guantanamo Plan was,”So what?” “Who cares?”, was next. And “Godless commies,” was last. But the real fun didn’t begin until I started to read the article. See the by line leads you to believe that REM and Pearl Jam are just gutless cowards bent on destroying all that is good and decent about America, which includes killing and/or imprisoning our enemies. However, that’s not really their beef with Guantanamo. No, the real problem, when you get towards the bottom of the article, is that the U.S. Government has accurately identified exactly which popular music will have the greatest effect in torturing terrorists. THEIR MUSIC IS TORTURE. That is the real problem. REM and Pearl Jam are just pissed off because American hating jihadist’s caved and gave it up under the aural assault of their crappy music. Ironic, I know, the very bleeding hearts that would have terrorists relocated to your neighborhood, are in fact the very instruments used to torture these terrorists. HA! Interestingly enough there are handful of rockers who are upset they didn’t make the list. Musicians for Equal Opportunity Torture (MEOT), a comprised of has-been rockers, new age artists, and virtual musicians, released this statement, “It has come to our attention that the U.S. government has shown musical bias and partiality in selecting some music for the purposes of torture over others. This is unacceptable to us. MEOT demands that every artist’s music be recognized by our government as a valid form of torture.”
My friend sent this link to me. It’s in Neiman Marcus’ Christmas Book catalog, because as you can see, it serves absolutely no purpose other than to be an extravagantly useless gift. But it got me thinking…. what if we did all drive cupcake cars? Would we in fact be better off? Hard to say, let’s examine this a little more.
1) Cupcakes are yummy to eat, and fuel efficient.
2) They run on a hugs.
3) No more parallel parking ever!
4) Road rage drastically reduced because who can stay mad at cupcake?
5) Can be serviced at your local bakery for a fraction of the cost.
6) Are Wonkernomically designed by Oompa Loompa’s.
7) If you break down in the Andes, you can eat your car instead of your passengers.
8 ) Might float in a flash flood.
Now for the Cons:
1) Old ladies with walkers will arrive at any destination before you do.
2) Cupcake cars are cute until there’s a wreck and then they’re a just one giant bloody cupcake mess, see:
3) Very good chance you will be eaten at some point:
4) They look stupid.
5) Four year old’s can steal your car…. and will.
6) As of yet, there is no “family size” cupcake car. Although construction is underway for a Zucchini Bread SUV. Here’s the engine:
7) The car goes bad after about a week. Refrigeration does help but it will eventually dry the car out.
8 ) Car washes wreak havoc on the Cupcake. It there’s a smudge best to just lick it off.
I’m not sure if I’d want to live in a world where all we drove were cupcake cars, but I do know this, that I wouldn’t want to live in a world without them. It’s deep, think about it.
Nancy Pelosi’s job approval rating in California has dropped 14 points since March according to a new poll conducted by some polling group. Here, link. Anyhow, the numbers show that 44 percent of respondents when asked, “Do you approve or disapprove of Pelosi’s performance in Congress,” said they disapproved of her performance, while 22 didn’t have an opinion either way. Pelosi’s office has issued a statement firmly refuting the claims of the study and has countered it with their own findings. Which they claim are a more accurate benchmark for Pelosi’s performance rating. Here are the results of Pelosi’s study:
When respondents were asked, “Usted aprueba o desaprueba Nancy Pelosi funcionamiento de s en congreso?” (Do you approve or disapprove of Nancy Pelosi’s job performance in Congress?) An astounding 88% of of them said, “¿Quién es Nancy Pelosi?” (Who is Nancy Pelosi?) While only 10% had no opinion. So it’s easy to see why Pelosi’s office is anxious to get these numbers out there. The 12 point drop in people who just don’t care is impressive. Pelosi herself is very encouraged by the numbers and issued a statement just this morning to that effect, “Mis mexicanos compañeros, prometo a no deportarle si usted continúa no haciendo caso de mi mala dirección. Gracias.” (My fellow Mexicans, I promise not to deport you if you continue to support my bad leadership. Thank you) Smiles all around for Congresswoman Pelosi. Or as they say in California, “Déme toda su materia libre.” (Give me all your free stuff.)
Context. The Nobel Peace Prize committees wisdom to award Obama with the prize for “giving the world hope for a better future,” may have at first seemed like a stunningly stupid decision. But this must all be taken in context. By that I mean, in the context of whom Obama was competing against, this was the only true and logical outcome. And the nominees are:
Emanuel El Munez: Columbian drug lord who started an orphanage with money stolen from a wealthy land owner he killed over a property dispute.
Slavaka Klopek: A Georgian madam who founded the Klopek Academia for Girls. An institute dedicated to the education of young girls so that they may be more profitable mail order brides.
Mumia Abu-Jamal: who was actually a very close second but the committee didn’t want to give the impression that Hollywood was calling the shots.
Pierre Lauriet: Insane french man who tried to tie a string around the world.
Samuel Derekson: Iowa native who moved to Somalia and has worked tirelessly to bring about peace in the region through his love of Chess and Macaroni hot dish.
Superman. That one I actually support.
Ngyen Ngyompiang: Reformed vietcong who taught the lepers to sing. (h/t Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid).
Obama’s winning of the Nobel Peace Prize for giving people “a hope for a better future,” has actually done just that. Millions, nay, billions of people around the world are now united in the hope that they too, might receive a Nobel Peace Prize for attempting to do something. I mean aren’t we all taught from a very early age that we should at least try? Obama simply has the audacity to live out the example our parents taught us. Which brings me to my point. In light of the clearly new standards for meriting a Nobel Peace Prize I’d like to nominate myself for 2010. I have compiled a list of things I’ve tried to do over the course of my life that I believe, and know you will agree, are shining examples of extraordinary things I’ve succeeded in not doing.
1) Almost learned French, Italian, German, Latin and Japanese. It’s true, but fortunately I did not master any of these, because that would have disqualified me.
2) Almost started a business at least three times that I can recall. All those failed so I’m good there.
3) Almost got a PhD., but didn’t. I did get a Masters which I’m hoping the committee will overlook with a gift of an attempt at homemade cookies.
4) Tried to run a marathon got injured in training. That right there is a brilliant example of trying and not doing.
5) Almost saw the Badlands, came within 12 miles of them, but fortunately my dad put a stop to that.
6) Almost signed countless petitions to save untold numbers of endangered species but didn’t.
7) Almost turned left this morning, but at the last minute went right.
8 ) Have attempted many times to buy a dog but just haven’t gotten around to doing it.
9) Have made stabs at potty training youngest and haven’t succeeded there either.
10) Tried to tell a woman that her false eyelash was coming off and she looked like she had a caterpillar crawling on her eyelid but instead got coffee.
11) I’ve tried but failed to improve the life of just one pair of Jimmy Choo pumps but have never been able to do so………. mainly because they’re about $1200 dollars a pair.
12) Almost got on a budget my whole married life. Which is an effort I share with the entire U.S. Congress.
13) Almost went to three of my four grandparents funerals.
14) Almost believed Madonna had turned her life around and would now be normal.
15) Tried to believe that perms really weren’t a creation of the devil designed to sucker women into something that will ultimately only serve to make them look like this
16) Tried to mow my lawn in Florida once while 5 months pregnant. Stopped half way through and hire a service.
16) I once tried to see how windy it was outside by rolling down the window in a moving vehicle. Think about it. That’s stupid.
17) Tried to be a redhead.
18) Tried Atkins.
19) Supplements, still haven’t managed those.
20) Almost learned to write in cursive with my right hand.
21) Tried to like 24 and Lost but still can’t get into them.
22) Lifetime of attempting to organize my junk is only marginal at best.
23) No victory for liking Starbucks dark roast yet either.
24) Trying not to complain. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
25) Trying to come to terms with Arrested Development and now Monk being canceled.
26) Tried scrap booking. Too many options, get confused.
27) Have made several attempts at writing a book. Got three or four really good half first chapters. Seriously, they’d be New York Times bestsellers, but I need them unfinished for the Nobel Prize and then after I win I’ll finish them.
28) Tried to spell Czhcechloslavokia once without help.
29) Tried to say pro-disestablishmentarianism.
30) Attempted to start a fire while camping.
31) Tried tough love, golf, and Vegemite.
Well the list is actually endless. Which, yesterday, I might have thought was sad, but today, I’ve been given hope that all I really need in life is to have the intention of something great. Thanks Nobel Prize committee for recognizing that no great thing need every really be accomplished but only attempted.
* I am no longer proofreading blog posts as the “idea” of good grammar and punctuation is as good as having actually achieved good grammar and error free punctuation.
I was lying in bed trying to put my seven year old to sleep when we got into a conversation about the size of his shirt. Well, this particular shirt was made in Sweden and therefore had stupid sizing that mean’s nothing to Americans, the largest consumers on the planet, but I digress. I told him it was 120cm. I know, completely useless. The only thing I know measured in centimeters is snow skis, and I already know my size, it never changes, so it’s a non-issue. Then my son started talking about Halloween costumes and what size he needed for his Clone Warrior suit. I said, 7/8 would do, and he said yeah because last year he was a 6/7. I’m telling you he’s brilliant. I concurred with his analysis and then got to thinking (follow my bunny trail here) what happens when he’s like 15, what size will he wear then, it’s not size 15, obviously, which led to, no, guys just have S, M, L shirts and then numbers for their pants. Which then led to, wow, guys are so not like women. No women in the world would buy pants that advertised her waist size on the garment itself, with one exception, jeans. Some jeans do have the waist size on the garment, but you will notice they rarely go past 30, indicating only skinny girls buy them and therefore don’t care.
Sizing for women has far more to do with marketing than the actual size itself. For instance, the more expensive the garment, the more generous the sizing, which is why Oprah can wear a 2. It’s called vanity sizing. Rich women want to feel thin, they will pay money to feel thin, get the distinction, not be thin, well there are the surgery junkies but that’s a whole other blog, no feel thin. It’s a state of mind, not body.
Here’s another strange thing about female sizing, teen sizing is all odd numbers, and women sizing is all even. Why? Is it so we know when we’ve wandered out of Style and into Brass Plum (Nordstrom’s references)? As if the ridiculous lengths of the skirts on the heroin chic gun metal gray mannequins wasn’t telling enough. Or is it for people like me, who feel just a little better than everyone else because I still fit into those lower odd numbered sizes. If it’s the latter, that is marketing at its finest. Loaded women who want to feel super skinny get to shop with the overly indulged teenagers and talk about the latest iPhone apps and Twilight.
It really does all come down to marketing. Men, are trickier to sucker into a purchase and therefore need something more subtle to persuade them into buying a pair of khakis or a Polo shirt. That is why marketing executives have come up with hot chicks with big boobs… years of data, very scientific.
Women, however, are far less complicated. Which is why marketing executives have come up with vanity sizing, myths about “loving the skin you’re in” and Oprah. Women are constantly being bombarded by magazine articles and news clips telling them to like who they are, their boobs are big enough, their butt looks fine in those jeans. Which, for some may be true, but for most, it’s bunk. So here’ s how this works:
1) Woman watches Oprah talk to totally hot ordinary women who are completely happy with their size 14 bodies. Woman learns that she is beautiful just the way she is and that all she needs to do is eat healthy, moderate portions, exercise three days a week, keep a gratitude journal, and celebrate everyday of her beautiful life feeling the awesome warmness and fulfillment that comes from watching an hour of Oprah.
2) Woman feels good for about 30-45 minutes after Oprah. Then lifes demands start creeping in. Children, husband, dog, laundry, EVERYTHING! Woman starts to feel tugged and pulled in 15 different directions. She tries to refocus on how beautiful and fulfilled she is, she grabs gratitude journal and starts to make notes in the margins about things to write down and be grateful for later.
3) A few days have passed and woman has now settled back into survival mode. “Oprah high” worn off. Life has fully infiltrated. Woman wants to get out and do something special for herself. She goes to the mall. Woman likes mall. Mall is like one big giant comfort food that never ends. Woman sees something she likes on the rack. She deliberates, it’s more than a little out of her price range, but woman likes the color and thinks the cut would make her look skinny. She then checks the size to make sure it fits. Size 6, well, she knows that will never do so she grabs a couple sizes larger and heads to the fitting room. Nice Sales Lady compliments her selection and helps her into the dressing room. Woman starts to try on clothing. WOW! These are way too big. Woman is confused and happy all at once. How can this be? She knows what size she is supposed to be. Woman then hails Nice Sales Lady and asks for a size smaller. Sales Lady agrees. Nice Sales Lady is in on the racket by the way. Nice Sales Lady returns with two garments, one that’s a size smaller and one that’s two sizes smaller. Nice Sales Lady says she thinks woman needed something smaller than an 8. Woman is now very VERY happy. Oprah, love your spirit, happy. Woman is very excited about shopping now. She tries on the size 6. THEY FIT!!! IT’S A MIRACLE I’M SUDDENLY SKINNY!!! Woman, now on a vanity sizing crack high, asks Nice Sales Lady for one in every color size 6, put it on her Nordstrom’s card.
That’s how easy it is; and people get six figures a year to come up with what I just told you in 1000 words or less.
This is a little story I like to tell my kids. It’s about Bert and Bart Sorry. Bert and Bart were two very normal brothers. They played together, had meals together, built forts together, enjoyed sledding in the wintertime together, and on occasion had tremendous fights together. Bert liked Bart’s company and Bart liked Bert’s. But when they didn’t it was sometimes very ugly. They would say very mean things, and even hit. Bert would always say sorry first, and he would mean it. He would even ask Bart to forgive him. Bart would always say yes and he would mean it. But, when Bart said sorry, if he said sorry, it was always followed by a but. “I’m sorry I hit you Bert, but you started it.” Or, “I’m sorry I called you stupid, but you shouldn’t have dropped the ball.” See, Bart never learned that sorry wasn’t an excuse. Bert always forgave him anyway and they stilled played together and had fun together. The moral of the story is this, know when you need to say sorry, say you’re sorry, and don’t be a But Head.
I’ve been informed this isn’t my usual funny post, that’s because sorry isn’t funny. And if it is, you did it wrong.