StatCounter

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Bad Puppy Owner

On Saturday I was walking along Hillhurst Avenue in Los Angeles minding my own business when I passed an Italian restaurant with tables set up along the sidewalk. Because I was on my way to the grocery store my hunger pangs forced me to stare at the various tables to see what they were eating.

Pastas. Fish. Chicken. It all looked so good and yummy. My taste buds were salivating. I mentally changed my shopping list to include more pasta, fish, and chicken.

And then I saw it...

At the last table was this couple enjoying their meal, and right there on the top of the table was their dog, laying there like it was the main course. I slowed and looked again, and sure enough, the small puppy was sprawled out across the table wagging its little tail.

I love dogs, but I don’t like them on the table where food is being served.

Didn’t the waiter or waitress tell them how unsanitary it was? Or did the waiter or waitress think it was “cute”?

What made these two idiots think it was okay to put their doggie on the table top?

Fleas, ticks, bacteria, pee pee, and dirty anus pooh raced through my mind. I lost my appetite and mentally deleted the pasta, fish, and chicken from my shopping list.

I hoped the restaurant bleached the table after they left, but something tells me they didn’t. I’m willing to bet it got quickly wiped down and re-set for the next customer.

Eeeeeew!

Monday, June 22, 2009

Something to Look Forward to...

One of the things I look most forward to when I’m finally old enough to be a proud member of the AARP is to train long and hard and participate in the AARP’s annual National Spelling Bee.
I love letters. I love putting letters together. I love what happens when I put letters together. In other words I love words.

And so it is with great joy, and a tear in my left eye, that I celebrate Michael Petrina, the 64-year-old from Arlington, VA who won this year’s AAARP National Spelling Bee. Petrina is a spelling-man, a man who loves to spell; hopefully each word correctly.

Interestingly, Petrina first won his state’s national spelling bee as a prepubescent thirteen year old, but lost in the Scripps National Spelling Bee. Undaunted he never extinguished his inner fire to spell, and 51 years later he achieved his momentous goal.

The word that made him the champ? Woad. It’s a yellow flowered European plant of the cabbage family whose leaves produce a blue dye.

I hope that in addition to his $500 cash prize, trophy and dictionary kit he received a bouquet of woad.

Congratulations Mr. Petrina.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Play-Doh

Here’s an interesting fact I recently discovered: Play-Doh was originally sold as a wallpaper cleaner. All you had to do was simply roll it over the wall to remove dust and dirt.
Created by Noah McVicker for Kutol Products, Play-Doh was first manufactured in Cincinnati. It wasn’t until some nursery school students started using it to make Christmas ornaments that Play-Doh became the beloved Play-Doh we all know and love.

By 1958 Play-Doh had generated over three million dollars in sales.

Between 1955 and 2005 over two billion cans of Play-Doh were sold. That’s a lot of Play-Doh dough!

I remember fondly fondling lumps of Play-Doh creating all sorts of objects; some innocent and some not-so-innocent.

Now that I know the true Play-Doh story I wonder if those nursery school students got a piece of the profits, or a lifetime supply of Play-Doh?

The next time I'm at the mall I'm gonna go get me some Play-Doh.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Bite Me

I am fascinated with vampires. They make my neck itch and twitch.

As I look back at my life I’ve certainly had some vampire friends. You know the ones I’m talking about... the friends that bleed you dry emotionally and still want more. They steal your creative ideas and claim them as their own. They’re the friends that after seeing them you have to take a nap to replenish your energy. Of course they never understand they’re vampires, and probably never will. They’re too self-centered to open their eyes to see the light.

But I digress... vampire friends are not what I’m talking about when I say I’m fascinated with vampires. I’m talking about the neck biting vampires who love blood.

The other night I watched a fantastic Swedish vampire movie called “Let The Right One In.”


It’s the story of twelve-year-old Oskar who is constantly bullied by the kids at school, and spends his free time inventing ways to seek revenge. He also collects newspaper articles about horrible murders that are happening in his small Swedish town. Suddenly he encounters a new girl in the apartment complex, Eli, whose odd behavior slowly draws him in. She’s pale, very pale and only comes out at night. When Oskar discovers that she’s a vampire he doesn’t run the other way, but embraces her. And when Oskar summons the courage to stand up to the bullies’ brutality it’s Eli who comes to his rescue.


This movie has it all: The snow. The cold. The passionate red of blood.

I dare say it’s damn good, probably one of the best vampire movies ever.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Love Is Strange

Every once in a while a simple story comes along and reminds us how wonderful life can truly be, and that’s what happens in this adorable short film from filmmaker Sareh Yeghiazarian.

Oh young love... totally pure.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

She’s A Working Girl

With her stint as vice presidential candidate a joke of the recent past (and for future generations to come) I hear Sarah Palin has done what any other washed-up beauty queen soccer mom governor who doesn’t know anything about governing would do....

She’s become a Mary Kay Beauty Consultant.

Oh yes, and I understand she’s quickly become the #1 sales rep selling tube after tube of pig-flavored red lipstick. It’s been a hit will her political cohorts. I even heard she spends her weekends traveling the country selling makeup, and giving make overs, at various flea markets.

Congratulations, Sarah. I think you’ve found your calling. Maybe someday soon we’ll see you driving around in a bright shiny new pink cadillac.

Monday, June 08, 2009

A New Buffy Video!

The great Buffy Sainte-Marie has made a video for “No No Keshagesh” from her highly acclaimed Running For The Drum CD.

FYI: Keshagesh = Greedy Guts

This song is relevant. It’s timely. It’s Buffy at her best.

Friday, June 05, 2009

The Pubic Region Exposed

This morning I read a blurb from an upcoming Kate Winslet interview in the new issue of Allure magazine. She talked about her nether region, her kitty cat area, and this is what she said:

Let me tell you, The Reader was not glamorous for me in terms of body-hair maintenance. I had to grow it in, because you can’t have a landing strip in 1950, you know? And then because of years of waxing, as all of us girls know, it doesn’t come back quite the way it used to. They even made me a merkin because they were so concerned that I might not be able to grow enough. I said, “Guys, I am going to have to draw the line at a pubic wig. But you can shoot my snatch up close and personal.”

Reading about a merkin got me to thinking, so I did a little research and this is what I found out:

The pubic wig, most affectionately know as the merkin, is centuries old (some accounts dating it to 1450 AD), having first been used by women and prostitutes who shaved “down there” to combat lice. How romantic.

Now that men are doing a lot of “manscaping” it seems that there should be a complete line of merkins for men. There could be various styles and hair densities, and shapes galore. The bushy bush, the Errol Flynn pencil thin mustache bush, the Adolf Hitler fuhrer bush, the bushy jungle look, or the handle bar mustache bush (which would be like having handles down there for someone to hold on to). They could come in all sorts of colors too; blond, red, brown, black, blue, green, etc. And let’s not forget the dreadlock bush, the braided bush, or the ultimate bush that leads from the chest to the genitals.

I’m thinking of starting my own line of celebrity merkins, so you too could have your pubic area look like your favorite celebrity’s bush. There could be the Brad Pitt, the Angelina Jolie, the Seth Rogan, the Lindsay Lohan, the Ryan Seacrest, the Justin Timberlake, the George W. Bush terrorist bush, or the Dick Cheney rainbow colored bush. The possibilities are endless.

I definitely see a reality show in this idea. “So You Want To Have A Celebrity Bush...”

Thursday, June 04, 2009

The Woodsman

Sometimes you need a movie that makes you laugh.

Sometimes you need a movie that makes you cry.

And sometimes you need a movie that makes you think.

I recently poured myself a glass of Shiraz and plopped myself down on the couch to watch “The Woodsman” starring Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick. This is a movie that will make you think. It’s sometimes uncomfortable to watch, not because of bad performances but because of its subject matter.


Kevin Bacon plays Walter, a convicted pedophile recently released from serving twelve years in prison. He did the crime and did the time and now he’s out trying to make a life for himself. He takes a job in a lumberyard and hooks up romantically with a co-worker Vicki (Kyra Sedgwick). But it’s not easy, and old habits and desires begin to take their toll on Walter.

I don’t want to give it all away, but there’s a scene at the end that will have you on the edge of your couch wondering what’s gonna happen, and whether the world is safe having Walter a free man.


Kevin Bacon is astounding in this role. His intense performance brings to mind the Oscar nominated performance by Jackie Earle Haley as a sex-offender in “Little Children.” I’m surprised Bacon wasn’t nominated for an Oscar.

Because it’s the story of a pedophile I think audiences avoided this film. Too bad because it’s superbly written by Steven Fechter and Nicole Kassell based on the play by Fechter and the direction by Nicole Kassell is nonintrusive allowing the actors to tell the story without any stylish camera work or gimmickry.

I highly recommend seeing “The Woodsman.”

Monday, June 01, 2009

I is for Ice Cream

The average American eats 23 quarts of ice cream a year.


I love ice cream. I would steal for ice cream. I would tell a lie for ice cream. I would commit mortal sin for ice cream. I’d even vote Republican if it meant free ice cream (luckily it doesn’t).

I’d even give up my right kidney, left lung, and both testicles for an unlimited lifetime supply of free ice cream.

Vanilla.
Chocolate.
Pistachio Nut.
Peanut Butter Swirl.
Strawberry.
Rocky Road.
Praline Pecan.

I love ice cream in a cup or in a cone or in a huge bowl with chocolate sauce and whipped cream or deep fried.

When I was in the first grade we had a Thanksgiving pageant with skits and songs about Pilgrims and Indians. It was so politically incorrect with its Pilgrim vs. Indian false truths, but that’s what they taught in suburbia, on the very land that was stolen from the Native Americans.

As part of the pageant 12 first graders stood on the edge of the stage proudly holding large letters that spelled T-H-A-N-K-S-G-I-V-I-N-G and recited what each letter meant. I was the second letter “I”.

So picture this: Me in my Sears husky boy pants with white shirt and tie reciting in my squeaky little boy voice what “I” meant to me...

I is for Ice Cream
It’s cold but it’s fine
I’ll have some plum cake
with mine!


Aah memories.

Screw the plum cake, just give me the ice cream.