The Cheese Stands Alone

"No man is man enough to not be unmanned by hitting their man parts"

- Kansas (after 6 beers)

Truer words were never spoken. And so it is that after placing third once again, we lose John Edwards from the Democratic race. I'm very sad. As much as I hate to admit it, in the politcal race between a woman, a black man and a middle aged, white southern male...I liked the middle aged, white southern male. I liked the guy who said, “I'd say if you live in the United States of America and you vote for George Bush, you've lost your mind.” Because that's EXACTLY how I felt/feel. After one failed attempt at accessing the White House, he threw his all into this election and I hate to see us left with two candidates who can't stop cat fighting long enough to say anything real. And his hair...oh his presidential hair. There's only been one other with hair as presidential as his...you know who I'm speaking of. You know. Sigh.

I think my biggest problem with Hilary isn't with Hilary herself...it's with her last name. I really don't want three decades of Bush - Clinton - Bush - Clinton. I don't want two families to run the country. That feels too much like a monarchy. Besides, I think Bill's been acting like a right little bitch lately and he needs to tone his shit talking down.

Perhaps I'm turning my back on my sex by not supporting Hilary, but honestly, except for a severe suit and coif...I don't see much of her that is still feminine. I think she's had to banish that side of her persona to truly become of "the guys". Only then could she be seen as a true contender. She's wandered away from the fold far enough that I don't feel the loss. It's a shame really. I think you can be a good politician and still feminine. Look at Madeline Albright. Shit...look at Condi. At least the bitch shops at Ferragamo.

I suppose now that Edwards is out of the running I'll turn my hopes toward Barak. His mother is from Kansas, after all...to have such progressive ideals coming from a state that tries to teach Creationism in schools...what's not to love.

I'm secretly proud of John McCain, though. You cannot keep that guy down. He's a bit of an asshole...but a buoyant one.

(this is what The Face thinks of politics)

**Update**
I'm posting Sam's response to this post because it's what I would've said if I knew how to write.

Sam, Problemchildbride said...

I was a big enough nerdus as to email Edwards' campaign this morning to tell him that he hadn't run for nothing and had really kept issues of poverty and corporate greed right in the debate whereas it might never have been talked about at all. I don't see the other two candidates wanting to talk about these things too much. it might cut into their waxing lyrical on "change" and "a new way forward" without managing to articulate quite how.

I would love to see a woman president but only if she was the right person to do it. And I'm not sure, I'm not sure at all. She is so much the political animal and is not the unifier she tells us she is. Obama, I like. I reckon he is a man of integrity but he's even more vague on specifics than Clinton when you get down to both their policies.

I liked Edwards because for a long time now he's been laying out what his policies were, he has a tremendous history highlighting the chasm between rich and poor in this country, and while lacking a bit in the foreign policy department, is undoubtedly a clever man capable of learning on his feet - unlike the present dolt. Unfortunately with the chance of history being made with an African American or female president, all the oxygen was sucked out of the room and his campaign struggled. I'm betting he'll endorse Obama to shake the old order up a little.

I wouldn't be at all unhappy to see an Obama/Clinton ticket or vice versa, or an Obama/Edwards ticket, or even a Clinton/Edwards ticket but I'm guessing whoever gets the nomination will seek further afield than their running mates.

I really want McCain to beat Romney. Romney changes his positions too conveniently for my liking and I don't like the way he seems to be buying his way to the white House. He seems inflexible as a thinker, much too allied to corporate models and interests, too socially conservative and thinks that while religion requires freedom, that also freedom requires religion - what in hell was that all about?

I admire much about McCain but he too has been too willing to indulge in pandering to the base at the expense of his integrity. I could deal with him as a president though; with a Democratic congress looking set to stay that way, the balance would be there to curb his more conservative excesses should he have them.

McCain v Obama would leave the country with two relatively good choices and both stand a better chance of uniting left and right in moderation than either Clinton or Romney. God, I'll hate it of Romney gets the nomination.

Sorry for going on, but it is a very exciting old time right now, innit? I just wish there was the luxury of not having so much ride on it all.

11:05 PM

Hipsters are rude.

My weekend mornings are normally uneventful...and of late, have me sporting a hangover convincing me that death is near. Solid. This one was less sedentary...as I went to two restaurants and a cemetery...all before 1 PM.

Brunch with the laaaydies consisted of banana's foster french toast. I know...breakfast with BOOZE in it! I'm so on my way to becoming a fat cow. You wouldn't judge me if you could've tasted it, though. And if you still would...well, I've got some nice rope you can suck.

Between my home and the restaurant is the Pioneer Cemetery. Next time I get up the energy to leave the house in the daylight hours, I'll take the ol' digital camera over there for some pics. It's a cool place, worthy of its own post. I walked through it on my way home (scooter's got a dead battery...bike's in the 'shop') as I am sometimes want to do. Wacky place, but as I said...worthy of its own post...so disregard.

I arrived home just in time for Kansas to be off of work, hungry and too needy to go eat by himself...so off we went to another neighborhood eatery. I didn't get home until ONE THIRTY! Exhausting. But now I'm safe and sound on my cushy orange sectional with my umpteenth cup o' tea. Just in case you care.

So while Kansas stuffed his cute face with corn beef hash, I stared at the next table. 5 hipsters...all with their "morning after" hair and thick black glasses (I know I have a pair too, but mine are vintage...there's a difference, so shut up). Of the 5, 4 of them were reading The Mercury (local free paper) as they sat and waited for their food. Rude! The 5th guy was alternating between looking out the window and glancing at the paper over the shoulder of one of the chicks. It's just absurd! What is the point of going to brunch with friends if you're all just going to sit and read a gajillion copies of the SAME paper instead of talking to each other? These assholes needed to order their shit to-go and be done with it. And what was the other guys' deal? Lone rebel? Illiterate? Far sighted? I don't know, but I felt bad for him. Not enough to invite his unbathed ass over to our table, though.

The last couple of days have been wacky here in the quaint metropolis of Portland proper. I know I occasionally post pictures of the weather forecast in my blogs, and I realize this is extremely nerdy and of little interest to anyone not presently at this locale, but I can't let this one pass:
What the fuck is a Wintry Mix?

I've figured out that they're referring to what I call "Snain", which quite logically, is snow mixed with rain. Look at that, a term that tells you everything you need to know in one syllable. How the fuck are you supposed to dress for a Wintry Mix? Rain coat? Down jacket? Both? Hood? No hood? What the EFF? It's not even weather terminology. Know why? Because this is an 'Autumn Mix':

You see the distinction. They're just asking for trouble, jumbling elements like that. They need to stick with Snain...because to people in their right mind...this is a 'Wintry Mix':


I said GOOD DAY!

A Lesson in History of A Lesson In Music

A long time ago, someone was trying to make a crepe and they accidentally made a record instead. People figured out that these "vinyl LPs" were much better at holding music than gruyere cheese and creme fraiche...so that's what they did. For a long long time, it was the only way anyone could hear The Police...until the invention of the 8-track.

Those reminded people too much of Nintendo games, and they kept breaking when those same people would try to shove them into the console. So then the someones invented cassette tapes instead. Cassettes really should've been much better than the records since they were so much smaller, and could be thrown onto the floor of people's cars without being destroyed; however, they still had to be turned over manually to hear the entire album. So they pretty much sucked.

Then came the "compact disc". These were made by the peoples who were nostalgic for the records...and probably the crepes as well. The Police too, for that matter. CDs are the same basic idea, except not black, are smaller...and they eliminated that nasty little chore of having to flip to hear the whole album. Perfection, mais non? It was about time. One little snag. They scratched so easily, one of them could be rendered unusable if it was looked at crossly. Very tiresome.

Now the someones have made mp3s. They're songs that float in the air over your head in thousands of tiny pieces like Mike TeeVee and Wonka Bars. They're called to our ears through white "ear buds" and if you can capture them, you can keep them in cages called "ipods". It's all very technical.

I have all the above options in my home. Depending on my mood and what I want to hear...I can play any of them at any one time. Or all of them at any several times. But that could end up sounding like a Velvet Underground song...so I usually refrain. Or just put on the Velvet Underground. Which I have on both CD and LP. It all depends on whether or not I feel the urge to flip.

If I want to hear Bel Biv Devoe, I could play a tape. I have a handy dandy player thing that does the flipping for me. Strange thing...I haven't really been moved to give them a listen since approximately 1991. I blame grunge. But I won't let my tapes go. They hold a special place in my heart. Or in a shoe box in a crawl space.

If I wanted to hear Kiss I could break out the 8 track. But since I found it in a box on the side of the road...I'm not positive they'd come through sounding their best. It's like fluorescent dressing room lighting for the ears. Not to mention the fact that I do not own an 8 track player. The box did not contain one. Now that I think of it...I'm not sure where that Kiss 8 track is exactly.

And so...with Kansas working late, I'm taking my records out for a spin (he hogs the phonograph just because "it's his". Selfish). So far this evening, we've (Tallulah and I) enjoyed Shirley Bassey, Nancy Sinatra, Tom Jones, Bobby Darrin and Blondie. And the night has only just begun. Of course, by the time I get halfway through the "to play" pile (Talking Heads, The Kinks, Nina Simone and Traffic)...I'll probably be fed up with having to constantly stop what I'm doing to flip the goddamn record. Stupid crepes.

Hiiiii Brother...

Jahooni was talking about TV shows the other day. Once again, it brought back my longing for the best show ever...Arrested Development. Lucky for me, I have a brother who loves me enough to get me the entire series for Christmas, so I can lay in bed hungover on Saturday mornings laughing my ass off. I watched the below episode twice in one sitting. Oh yes.

I've been able to tell a lot about a person by which panel is their favorite. Therefore, today is Learn About My Deadbeat Readers Day! So tell me...which panel moves YOU to tears of laughter? (click on image to enlargen...heh heh heh...I said 'enlargen')

No. 3 causes a giggle EVERY time I look at it.

Everyone else is off today for MLK Day. I guess my company's racist.

Someone Needs A Little Drop of Poison

Bad news folks. Yet another budding young actress has earned my scorn.

This may be old news to some, but it’s taken me several days to be able to write these words without throwing up a little in my mouth:

Scarlett Johansson is going to release an album. Of her singing. Tom Waits covers.

Who the FUCK does she think she is?

I’m obviously upset by this news. Like people who were angered by that New York artist who stuck a crucifix in a glass of piss…I kind of feel that this album will be the aural version of that. Bitch.

I just don’t understand what she’s doing. For that matter, I don’t really understand remakes. There are maybe a handful of acceptable exceptions in this world…but it should be generally agreed upon that no one can do Tom Waits better than Tom Waits. 80% of his musical genius is his voice…which doesn’t sound an iota like a 23 year old girl’s. Thank Yahweh.

I’d like to be able to move on into the smattering of good news that made this week bearable…but I just can’t. The above story trickles down into all the good things and makes them smell rotten. Like the vegetable drawer in my fridge that I’m afraid to open. I’m gonna make Kansas do it.

I got called a curmudgeon at work yesterday. Twas awesome.

Cable is Pointless

So..I've lain in bed for a while and stared at the ceiling. Nothing. I've watched the end of three different movies on various cable channels. Talladega Nights is always funny, the other two sucked. Gave up on TV. I've picked up and put down two different books. I've played with the cat...she's being a jerk. I've tried to blog...not feeling much in the way of cleverness. I've cleaned the bathroom, started the dishwasher and put away the clean laundry that's been sitting on my bedroom floor for two weeks. Not even a yawn. And now I'm slouched on my orange couch listening to an episode of Family Guy and starring at this stupid computer. It's making that choking noise again. I long for sleep...but the eyes won't close.

Why?

Because I have an early ass meeting in the morning.

Whenever I have to get up earlier than I normally do, I can't sleep the night before. This has always been the case for me. As a kid, the night before the first day of school was torture. Crack of dawn appointments have me staring at the mean red digital numbers at least once an hour. And when it comes to a good night's sleep...an early AM flight is the kiss of death. Does this happen to anyone else? Even if it does, I don't see how it would help me get to sleep. You should realize that. Selfish.

I need a bedtime story. Feel free to take it upon yourselves, dear readers, and send me one. A good one. No fairytales. Those just set unrealistic expectations.

Ugh. Don't mind me. I'm just grumpy. I'm sleepy and bored and uninspired. A trifecta of dissatisfaction. And I've already seen this Family Guy episode.

He's Got A Head Like A Fucking Orange

I'm not sure when I first saw The Office. I think I caught it on BBC America way back when (which I watch constantly, since I suffer from a severe case of Anglophilia) and became immediately obsessed. One day, way back in 2005, the Waif showed me that Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant would be doing a free podcast with this dude named Karl Pilkington. And so I listened. And I loved it.

They released a book of convos from the podcast and whatnot and the Waif got it for me at Christmas. And one morning...I think Thursday or Friday of last week, I was reading an excerpt about how Plato's knowledge killed him because he was on holiday walking on a beach and a bird dropped an egg on his head. If he hadn't been so smart, he would've had to work instead of taking holidays so he would've lived. Yes. That's what I was reading. And I was laughing so hard I thought I was going to die. Just a little.

So, who is Karl Pilkington? He's just a guy. A guy that Ricky and Stephen met in a radio studio years ago and realized is the funniest human on Earth. And a complete moron. Probably the deepest moron you'll ever encounter, but a moron, nonetheless.

Anyway. You have to hear him before you read him...or you won't be able to mentally attach his voice to the transcript. So here. Enjoy:

http://www.mediafire.com/?0w1yubmqy4l

Don't say I never gave you anything.

Skinny Jeans Are Not Even A Privilege

So yes. I own a pair...but in my defense, they didn't start out as skinny jeans. I just got fatter. And now they're tight. Shut up. But my beef is with these women actually buying spandex leggings in the form of denim. This trend has gone on for well over a year now and it just needs to halt. I can't look at it anymore. It offends my very nature. And I'm not that easy to offend (see the post on Crocs...and nau).

There are two things I'd like to comment on today. Both of which just fell in my lap, so to speak:



1. How to Stop Terrorism? Begin in School

Maryland High School Offers Homeland Security Courses

Sixty-one Joppatowne 10th-graders enrolled this year to spend three years learning about protecting the country against terrorism.

*Bullshit. How about we focus on bringing art back into schools. Can we do that? Please? Oh sorry, does that point of view make me a terrorist? Fuck you!

2. Unknowing Twins Marry Each Other

LONDON, England (CNN) -- British twins who had been separated at birth learned they were related only after they had become husband and wife, a senior British lawmaker said. The marriage has been annulled.

*Ew. Double ew. That being said...you have to wonder at the couple. What went on there that allowed them to get all the way to marriage...and SEX...before they realized something just wasn't right. Were there obvious signs? Did they finish each other's sentences? Share a secret language? LOOK ALIKE? Maybe it was the sex that was the clue. Maybe they both got grossed out during the actual act and went to seek therapy and the shrink was all "Hmmmmm. Maybe you're related".

The end.

Kansas is currently cheating on me with a video game. It's called something silly like Mass Effect. I'd assume it was about global warming, except I know it's about space. I know this because I happened into the living room just as some weird alien woman with large breasts asks MY boyfriend if he had feelings for her. Well, the goatee'd fighter dude that is being controlled by the thumbs of my boyfriend. After I laughed for, like, minutes about the cheesiness of it all...I started realizing that I should not be amused. I should be indignant. And that I should fight that alien bitch.

But then I reminded myself that it's only a video game and went to eat some pretzels.

All in good fun. Only if you think of video games as "fun". Which I don't. But of course this sparked a convo concerning those sad sad types of folks out there who don't actually know that it's just a video game. You know the ones I'm talking about. You know. I'm thankful I'm not dating one of those. Well, "those" don't date much, do they. Poor "those".

My, this is getting wordy. Next time, I'll talk about the book that I had me laughing so hard on the bus, people thought I was crying. Which I was.

A Day In Pants Is A Day Wasted.

You know, reading all you people's blogs at night is exhausting. I hope you appreciate me.


I took a picture of my haircut this morning as I was getting ready for work. I don't know how well you can see its rock 'n rollness from that vantage point...but just know that there are 8 MILLION layers. And I never exaggerate. Never. Ignore that sweater, though...I don't know why I'm wearing it. It makes me look like some sort of giant green shrub. Fugly.

One set of parents are in Mexico right now. I currently hate them. But only superficially...because I could never hate them. It's just the pea green talking. Kansas and I leave for Romania, Hungary and whatnot in a little less than a month. I suppose I should start thinking about places to stay. I'd be such a shitty travel agent. Do those still exist? Wait. I don't care.

I was thinking about something today...and I'm wondering if you would find it as profound as I did. Probably not...but play along. Last year, at this time my bedtime ritual went as follows:
1. Brush teeth with standard...medium bristled...bright red toothbrush with Crest extra-whitening toothpaste.
2. Take out contacts...put them in their designated case. It's pink.
3. Think about washing face, but don't.

This year...at this time...my bedtime ritual is as follows:
1. Brush my teeth with my Oral B electric powertool toothbrush exactly two minutes with Crest extra-whitening toothpaste.
2. Take out contacts, put them in their designated case. It's white.
3. Floss my gums cruelly and check for ANY sign of bleedage.
4. Make faces in the mirror with cheeks filled with fluoride rinse that you have to keep in for a whole fucking minute. It's purple.
5. Utilize eye makeup remover. It's also purple.
6. Wait for water to get hot...takes about a year.
7. Wash face with ridiculously expensive cleanser that I got from the woman who gave me a facial. She studied skin in Europe...where skin was invented.
8. Follow up with a face serum. I don't know either.
9. Smooth on extremely expensive "Day/Night" cream. It's white.
10. Crawl into bed where Kansas has started and finished watching a feature length film.

You see the difference? Two appointments changed my life forever. Two little appointments to let me know I'm not as young and healthy as I used to be. Two appointments that forced me to look at my lifestyle and find it inadequate. It's been a humbling year.

Men will probably read this and go "what the fuck? no one needs to do all that". And then women will read this and go "what...you think we wake up looking this good? boy you better recognize." And then the women will bitch slap the men and tell them to go fix them a turkey pot pie. Yes, that's how it will go.

Time for a glass of wine. Been suffering a bit of the ol' insomnia lately. I blame nargles.

(oh god, oh god, oh god...that was a severly nerdy Harry Potter reference. you're all going to leave me now, aren't you)

You Know What Blows??

Pirates of the Caribbean III.

They have finally succeeded in taking my favorite ride at Disneyland (since the age of 6, mind you) and soiled everything it stands for. Which, I think, was light-hearted pirate glorifying fun. They have also succeeded in inciting BOREDOM during a JOHNNY DEPP film. For this, I'll never forgive them.

Damn you...Them.
The worst part of it is...I LUURRRVVV pirate movies. I can't tell you how many times I've seen Captain Blood and The Buccaneer. Of course, not as often since I passed my 13th birthday, but still...in my mind, those two pirate flicks can't be beat. And Disney had its head in the right place for a while (as in, not up its ass) with movies like Blackbeard's Ghost and Treasure Island. When I discovered ages ago that they were making a movie based on my favorite ride, I was ecstatic. And it was cute! And Johnny was cute! And it had Kiera Knightly who never shuts her fucking anorexic mouth, but could easily be ignored! And then there was the promise of the second one with Bill Nighy! Everyone loves Billy Nighy!

And then the second one blew!

And then I thought...well, at least there's only one more. They'll wrap up the story line and that'll be the last we'll see of Johnny in eyeliner til...his next movie. But if any of you wasted three hours of your life that you'll never get back like I did...you'd have found out that not a goddamn thing is wrapped up since they're obviously doing a fourth. Which will probably also blow.

Money grubbing pricks.

In the meantime, I can't look my favorite ride in the face anymore. Or, at least, I won't be able to if I ever darken the doorways of Disneyland again.

Yo ho.

Oh yeah...did you hear that Britney's gone postal and is currently residing in psychiatric la la land? I'm a little saddened it's her and not Paris. At least we know that Paris' art flourishes behind bars.

Perspective?

2008 is going to be a big news year. I can feel it. Maybe not Fabio Brawls with Cloondog big...but big, nonetheless.

Because this year...this one here...this year is an election year. This year we are 100% GUARANTEED not to have George W. Bush as an ineffective buffoon...errr...president beyond this year. Though I won't get my wish to have him prosecuted as a war criminal...I need to be thankful for small favors, you know?


And as Iowa and New Hampshire gear up to decide who will be my options as candidates, as is their traditional and wholly unfair right...I reflect on how much worse the situation could be when I see stories like this one:

Mob torches Kenyan church, 30 die inside

This is what they're calling "post-election violence" in Kenya. Some "youths" of the opposition didn't like who was re-elected...so they protested by burning women and children alive. Happy New year.

Alas. Some perspective.

Even if my nightmares do come true and someone like Mitt Romney ends up in our White House...at least I know I can go to church and come out again fairly untouched. That is...if I ever went to church. However, even the bright side of the above scenario is grim.

I guess my best bet is to have faith that Iowans and New Hampshirites aren't assholes and that they - in the words of that title of that really old movie by Spike Lee - do the right thing. And now...Rosie Perez will dance for you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GiWJ0G8L34