OMG... these people are dyeing a horse in the middle of their living room. A horse! They're dyeing it purple! In their living room! And blow drying it! "We treat him like a member of the family," the insane Georgia-betwanged mom tells us. And I'm sure she's right. This woman probably dyes her family purple on a regular basis.
















You laugh, but he looks just like Mr. Ed without his makeup.

And I thought Judge "the trophy is somewhere in my pants, see if you can find it" was gonna be the creepiest thing I saw tonight. Damn you, Toddlers and Tiaras! I mean bless you... bless you Toddlers and Tiaras, for the cornucopia of "you can't make this shit up." My cup runneth over.














Unfortunately, he just runnethed over too. I hope they sanitize the chairs between pageants.


Insane mom: We had to stop doing local pageants cause kids with cancer kept winning. I don't think we'll have those problems at a glitz pageant.

Translation: Glitz people are soulless douchebags. I'll fit right in.

And you know mom, you've gotta go all out to win pageants. If you really love your little Madison (guessing here, but they're all named Madison), forget the flipper and the John Boehner tan and give her the ultimate pageant weapon: CANCER! What better way to say, "I'll do ANYTHING to make my daughter win."

Dad: I try to support all my daughters on whatever they do. It costs a lot, it costs a lot just like maintainin' a car. You keep oil in it, you keep diamonds on the dress. *chuckles* (this guy is either the most good-natured, tolerant guy on earth or is about to crack and go on a murderous rampage across Texas)

Mom, to 3 year old wearing her glitz dress/flotation device: You're gonna sparkle, sparkle, sparkle!

Little girl: *picks her nose*

Other mom, after daughter places 4th runner up or something (the Neptune of the pageant world): "I don't want Hailey to feel she needs to be judged on her beauty." What exactly did you think was gonna happen at a beauty pageant, Mom? Holding hands in a circle and singing Kumbaya? Oh I get it... it's okay for her to be judged on her beauty if she wins. Otherwise it's a bad old mean nasty beauty pageant, and probably rigged too! By the Chinese! *storms out in a huff of glitter and indignation*

Glitter and Indignation would be a great name for a drag show. Just sayin'.

So this pageant featured a 10,000 dollar prize, and allowed 20 year old women to enter. This pageant also featured what seemed to be a very horny judge drooling over said 20 year olds. You can probably see where this is going... 10,000 dollars, horny judge... yup, a 20 year old blonde Amazon won Burrito Supreme with Guacamole.

I actually felt bad for the little "divas." I woulda been pissed too! I'm glad the little rich girl with the indoor water slide didn't win though. Rich people hoarding more money pisses me right off. If I was rich and won $10,000 I would donate it all to homeless cats, immediately. What else do I need, fancy wheels for my second fucking Lexus? HOMELESS CATS, PEOPLE. Anyway.

They showed the judges discussing the contestants and this dude, who was seriously sweating like a perv, gushes "I was particularly impressed with the 18 and up, there were some beautiful women there" *drools* "Maybe one of them will walk home with the crown heh heh heh" *sweaty sex offender laugh* "The one who offers to make nice with the Little Judge, if you know what I mean, heh heh heh." Okay he didn't actually say that. But it was implied, I swear! Maybe I'm wrong and he was just a normal gay pageant dude with a gland problem. But... HE DIDN'T SEEM GAY. HE SEEMED CREEPY. I guess the best thing to say for him is at least he wasn't sweating and drooling over the six year olds. And when that's the best thing you can say, it's really just time to move on.

Today for your enjoyment, I bring you Yahoo news headlines and stories. We have some doozies today.

On the TOP of the page: "Nobody wants ginger children"

I'm not sure how this counts as news, and also... nobody? really? My sweetie has red hair and I hope our kids do too! This is not at all because I want my family to look like the Weasleys... well okay, it is. But it's also because I love my sweetie and his red hair and I think it's very attractive! Maybe it's a less commonly desired trait, but "nobody" wants? Hello, hyperbole.* Someone should not be writing "news" copy.

*like Hello Kitty, but less pink and more angry.

Next up: "3 women report toe-sucking pleas to Ark. police"

"Police are trying to find out who has been trying to suck women's toes in central Arkansas." Well that sounds like a pretty weak episode, even for CSI: Central Arkansas. So let's go with... Law and Order: TSU (Toe Sucking Unit). I think it'll end in a massive shoe store sting, with the alleged sucker holed up in a Payless with a whatever-the-fuck-they-make-payless-shoes-out-of* high-heeled pump as his hostage. The SWAT team rushes in, knocking boxes to the floor - flip-flops flopping everywhere - and the obligatory hot female detective makes a deal that the perp can suck her big toe for one minute if he surrenders. Overcome with... let's just say joy, he dashes out and is immediately cuffed by the hot blonde cop and her sexy-but-platonic partner. "The shoe's on the other foot now, you sick bastard!" She says, and the credits roll.

God I love cop shows.

*I think payless shoes are made from the pieces of old dead shoes. Just mix 'em all together and see what comes out. Kinda like McNuggets (which are made from old shoes, and chicken butts).

Next up we have: "Dead Sea hosts mass nude photo shoot"

I don't understand one word in that sentence. I know what they mean separately, but put them together and they lose all meaning. I keep repeating it to myself and it just gets worse. I don't know who I am anymore. I'm scared.

From today's story about last night's air show crash:

"Last month, the pilot of an aerobatic airplane died in a fiery crash in front of onlookers at a weekend air show in Kansas City. In Michigan last month a wingwalker at an air show near Detroit plunged about 200 feet to his death as he tried to climb onto a helicopter in midair."

Now... loss of life is sad and all, but I'm thinking, maybe humans are not meant to climb onto helicopters in midair? There's a fine line between tragedy and Darwin Award, folks. I mean, that isn't even a sign from God to stop being stupid, it's just plain old gravity. And as we all know, gravity, thou art a heartless bitch.

And finally... "Former Senator Charles Percy, a liberal Republican, dies"

Sadly, liberal Republicans died a long time ago. I don't even know who you are dude, but I miss you already.

This just in: GOD ALSO FUCKING HATES AIR SHOWS. Let this be a warning to all pilots to... something to do with Obama... blah blah spending cuts... praise be to God. Oh wait, it happened in Nevada so it's clearly directed at Harry Reid. God demands a new Senate Majority leader. IT'S ALL SO CLEAR NOW. Fuck you, Michele Bachmann.

Yeah, that non-joke she made about Hurricane Irene really stuck in my craw, and I think I know why. It's a perfect example of my Mean Christian scenario. A decent Christian (or, y'know, human being), especially one RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT, would get up and say "My prayers are with everyone affected by this disaster; you are not alone. Your country is behind you." Something leadery and mature and responsible and respectable and comforting and kind and fucking HUMAN. In other words, everything the spoiled brats of the tea party are not. So Michele, every time disaster strikes I'll be here to mock your uncaring, unchristian, immature rhetoric FOR GREAT JUSTICE.

(As always, my sincere sympathies to the victims and families of this and any disaster. Any jokes I make are directed squarely at the Wicked Witch of the... North Midwest.)

So MSNBC switches to Lockup!, and I am left wanting more details of the crash. I turn to CNN - something about boxing. So in desperation I turn to Fox News, and there's Sean Hannity blaring about OBAMA'S GREEN SCAM. Wow, you got Obama AND the environment* in one scoop! Good for you! Try not to look too smug there folks... oh never mind, too late. Isn't there kind of a bigger story going on right now though? Oh here we go... OBAMA'S COSTLY JOB PLAN! Man, you really nailed him tonight. Hearty butt slaps all around. Thanks for the memories, Sean. *click*

*Why do conservatives hate the environment? Do they breathe different air than the rest of us? Perhaps they all run on robot hearts like Dick Cheney and do not actually have to breathe at all? EXPLAIN PLS. Somehow in their minds environment no longer means "that place we live in and that stuff we breathe," but "socialist hippies." HELLO SEAN HANNITY, YOU LIVE ON THIS PLANET TOO! *waves* We just wish you didn't.

Fook it, I am starting another episode of... you know. My horrible secret oh-so-sweet addiction. This one features a little pageant king who likes to dress up as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Seriously. Well, there's the joke that writes itself and keeps on writing. You know what though, the mom seems cool and supportive of her little friend of Dorothy, so I'm not gonna mock. That rocks. But what IS it about Judy Garland that makes her so universally adored among... Festive-Americans, even at the age of 5? It has to be genetic or something. This should be studied. By scientists.

...No, not Michele Bachmann either. That high-pitched sound that only fanatics can hear. The one that acts as white noise, filtering out anything they don't want to hear until they no longer can hear anything else. Jesus could appear literally on a pogo stick with a big sign saying "Obama for president" and beseech them to stop the insanity, and they'd just blink stupidly and demand to see His birth certificate.

SARYNITI NOW!

Conservative Christian mom. Daughter named Saryniti, pronounced "serenity." Lord, if there was ever a time to bring on some good old-fashioned liberals-in-a-hurricane Michele Bachmann-style lightning bolt smiting, THIS IS IT. Not the innocent little girl of course, the wretched mother who thinks naming her kid something really stupid and then giving it a KRAYZEE SPELLING to boot is an AWESOME IDEA. I'm sure she prayed on it, long and hard.

"Dear God, what is a good name for my sweet baby girl? I ask for your holy guidance in this time of need.*" "Well," God says, "Sarah is a lovely name. How about Rachel, or Rebecca? Of course Mary is a personal favorite of mine." *hearty God chuckle* "Oh thank you Lord, I'm gonna ---" BZZZZZZT! "Nooooo, my child, you must name her Serenity, as in the feeling you get when you pray to er... me. And here's the really KOOKY part, you're gonna spell it like no one would ever expect - SARYNITI! And when people see it they'll think, what a nitwi - I mean, what a FUN lady she is, I'm gonna go convert right now! Isn't that a hoot? MUAHAH... *cough* I mean, go in peace my child. Praise my holy name. Peace out."

The woman looks up, confused. "...Satan? Is that you? Get thee out, foul demon of Hell!"

"Nope, it's totally me, God the Almighty. Look, I just made a kitten." A kitten appears. It is white and fluffy and adorable and totally not evil. "Now would Satan make a kitten? Come on!"

"Oh Lord, praise you, praise you!" The woman falls to her knees in rapture, nearly crushing the annoyed kitten. "I'm gonna name her Fluffi with an "i" to make her special!"

"That's my girl... that's my girl..." A low evil laugh is heard, and then fades away. The woman is too busy speaking in tongues and scaring the shit out of the cat to hear. Fluffi gets mad. You will not like Fluffi when she is mad. Fluffi's eyes turn a brilliant shade of red and she lets out an unearthly yowl and claws the woman's eyes out. The end!

There you go, my first ever Toddlers and Tiaras fanfic. I am so proud. That shit is inspiring, yo.

*she also prays for holy guidance over which brand of toothpaste to buy, what to make for dinner, and whether it's cool to put her little girl in beauty pageants (the last one is actually true, She also prays over each individual outfit to make sure it's certified Holy Pageant Wear). And surprise surprise, God LOVES pageants! That rainbow-tutu-skirt-thing, 100% Yahweh approved! Ok, kudos to the mom for not dressing her in hooker clothes. Awesome show of restraint... I guess? But GAWD, the extremes of this country. It's either putting thigh high vinyl boots on 4 year olds or praying over which way to put the toilet paper on the roll. CAN WE HAVE ANOTHER OPTION PLEASE? WHERE IS THE SWEET SWEET VALLEY OF SANITY?

I also get the feeling for these people "pray on it" means "kneel until I come to the conclusion that God wants the same thing I want." I like sane religious people. I really do. I am totally down with The Big Guy. But these people... just once I'd like to see them get a *hard* answer from prayer. One that actually contradicts their ridiculousness. Then I'd feel they were really talking to God instead of themselves. But since they think they're always right simply by *being* conservative Christians, that kinda takes God out of the picture. "I wasn't sure if cheating on my husband with the Domino's delivery guy was a good idea, but I prayed on it and God told me it was the right thing to do! Now I know what an orgasm is. Praise Jesus!" Boy, God sure seems to know exactly what you want to hear - it's almost as if you were listening to your own thoughts. But that would be preposterous.

God is listening - even to crackpots who pray over everything - but all they're listening to is that high-pitched buzzing sound in the back of their head (no, not Sarah Palin. The other one.)

Also - what is the deal with all the people (we'll call them "handlers") who orbit the pageant world being called "Miss (first name)?" There's Miss Lisa the dance teacher and Miss Tiffani the personal-coach-whatever-the-fuck-that-means and Miss Jackie the hair poofer and and Miss Lori the fake orange tanner (John Boehner actually got his start doing pageants - little known fact!) and in one rather disturbing instance, Mr. Todd. (He was the host. He liked glitz! He may or may not have been wearing a sequined vest, but when I remember him - AND I WILL - he will be wearing one.)

So, is this some kind of southern thing? Or is it how pageant people identify each other, like a code? "The crow flies at midnight." "London is foggy this time of year." "Hi, I'm Miss Debbie!" "My daughter Lynzee won ultimate grand supreme at the Rodeo Princess pageant!" (Okay, that only sounded like stupid spy code. Those are actually real things. But I think I'm on to something!)

Still hungry for Taco Bell... so hungry. *slips into coma*

And just to post about something else: OMFG Republicans. Remember the jeering Alan Grayson took when he made his famous hyperbolic REPUBLICANS WANT YOU TO DIE QUICKLY speech? Cue a Republican debate crowd CHEERING WILDLY when it's suggested an uninsured man be left to die. Wow... there goes the hyperbole. And there goes my lunch. Alan Grayson was right, not just morally right but ACTUALLY RIGHT. Never mind that insurance is prohibitively fucking expensive because big insurance companies don't care about ANYTHING but profit. LEAVE THEM ALL TO DIE. LET THEM EAT CAKE. AND IF WE DON'T GET EM THAT WAY, BY GOD WE'LL FRY EM DOWN IN TEXAS!

Yeah... Texas' record number of executions was met with a HEARTY ROUND OF APPLAUSE from debate-goers. And these weren't even the same debate-goers! Who ARE these people? Do I pass them in the supermarket buying cucumbers? I'm scared. :/ And I'm pro-death penalty for fuck's sake. I think it's just punishment for especially egregious crimes that have been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt. In other words, RARELY. It should be one of those special things, you know? The sort of occasion you'd buy a bottle of Dom Perrignon for, were it a party and not, y'know, an execution.

But no, Governor Deepfry refused to hear solid evidence that one of his toaster strudels was innocent, and zapped him anyway. Presumably while firing off a six shooter and shouting yeeeeeee-haw! (Seriously Texans, if you don't want us to think you're a bunch of Yosemite Sams, please stop firing off your six shooters and shouting yeeeee-haw! You can see how it might be a bit distracting. We're trying, Texas. Meet us halfway?)

So... there are some really angry, bloodthirsty people roaming the land. I don't know where they came from or why, exactly, they're so angry that the mere thought of random people dying whips them into an excited frenzy, but I know we can't let them into office. Or into our homes. Seriously... maybe they can't get in unless you invite them. MY GOD MAN, DON'T LET THEM IN!

One final word on the insurance thing... Ron Paul's answer, before the mob frothed into KILL ALL THE POOR PEOPLE glee, actually made sense. Able people should make their own decisions and take care of themselves without the government. The problem is when the free market system they love so much jacks up prices to whatever the fuck they want and forty-two cents (and you better damn well include that forty-two cents, bub), it's no longer a choice. It's out of reach. YES we should be responsible for these things, but they have to be AFFORDABLE first! As long as dollar signs and the bottom line run the show, the rest of us are swimming with sharks. Given a choice between the government throwing me a rope to escape the sharks or swimming with say, dolphins instead, I'd pick the dolphins. Wouldn't you? The problem is, the insurance and pharmaceutical companies and their political fuck puppets see us as nothing more than chum.

Cealy... CEALY???

Okay, let's just stop right here and back this bus up. Parents: do not name your child after your MATTRESS, or anything else found on your bed. The last thing your little princess needs to be reminded of her whole life is WHAT SHE WAS CONCEIVED ON. That conjures up all kinds of images that, believe me, she DOES NOT WANT. This makes naming her after your favorite drink or car seem downright sensible, like calling her Mary.*

On top of that, her friend was named Salee. ...Yeah. What? Maybe her mother really enjoys the Sears annual white sale, and inspiration struck among the half-off towels? I just... I don't even know anymore.

So this blog appears to be about Toddlers and Tiaras now. It's just so DELIGHTFULLY HORRIFYING. I haven't enjoyed myself this much in years. Well okay, I enjoyed myself a bit more when my sweetie came to visit, but I knew he was leaving again! T&T is always right here, close enough to smell the hairspray and desperation.

*Available Fall 2011: The Toyota Mary! Comes with standard air, power windows, rosary beads, dashboard Jesus and pro-life bumper sticker.

No CL hunt. No boy. Bored. Lonely. Catching up on the episodes of Toddlers and Tiaras I missed this season because NONE OF THE PEOPLE I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW TOLD ME A NEW SEASON HAD STARTED. Err. Perhaps therein lies the problem. Anyway, I have a feeling I might like other "fans" of this show, mostly because I don't believe anyone watches this show seriously. I refuse to believe it. At least with Hoarders you kinda feel bad for the people as you gawk mercilessly at them, but these people... they're like clowns that are actually funny. I love them. This show is totally what's been missing in my life.

Yes, that speaks volumes more about my life than anything else. MOVE ALONG, NOTHING TO SEE HERE.

One thing I have noticed about this show: almost all the moms have perma wide-eyed and open-mouthed stares, kinda like...


Coincidence?? It's as though they're in a perpetual state of offering a blowjob for another $3000 "glitz" dress from their long-suffering hubbies. All I will say about that is they probably deserve one, though they married Suzy Stuffums in the first place so who the hell knows.

Also? Whenever someone mentions "grand supreme" I get really, really hungry for Taco Bell. Since I usually watch the show late at night, not fair. Not fair to name your cheesy pageant title after a delicious cheesy burrito when I cannot have one! And don't even get me started on "ultimate grand supreme." I think that one involves guacamole. *wibble*

And just to bring this blog around full circle... it seems my old "flame" Martin Gramatica turned out to be a really awesome person! http://www.nola.com/news/index.ssf/2009/07/gramatica_name_gets_better_spi.html

He could have retired and opened a car dealership or sold real estate or something football-related or pretty much anything. Instead, he chose to focus on Katrina victims. And the environment. He IS the man of my dreams! ;) All that time I was crazy about him, I didn't even know what a big heart he had. Well, it sort of came out in his kicking. That man kicked a football with PASSION.

So my kickin' cutie is a class act. I'm proud of him, his two (also cute) brothers, and myself for all the years I stood behind my "chipmunk." :D

Yes, I made a silly post about beauty pageant names on the 10th anniversary of 9/11. This was not deliberate, but not really undeliberate either. You can't swing a dead rat without hitting someone talking about 9/11. So, why not lighten the mood a little?

Also, that was pretty much my favorite post ever.

I forgot to mention the pageant mom with the t-shirt stating "I love Jesus... and bling too!" Cause y'know, Jesus was all about the bling. He even had rhinestone sandals he brought out for those special occasions. How else do you think he walked on water? Divine power? Nope, all about the bling baby! Sadly, his bedazzled robes were never accurately described and thus lost to history. I heard they had badass dragons on them, though.

Of course he had to give them all away to the poor to ascend back into heaven, which is why he wore a crown of thorns instead of his usual tiara. TRUE FACTS.

I believe this was the same pageant mom who dressed her little girl up in hooker boots and named her Paisley. Doesn't life just make sense now? I can hardly wait for her little sister Plaid's stirring scene from Leaving Las Vegas at the next Little Miss Mommy Pimps Me out to 50-Year Old Judges to Fill the Empty Void in Her Soul Pageant.* It's the PERFECT STORM... of awful.

*the pride of Shitcreek, South Carolina for over 30 years! Enjoy its sister pageant, Little Miss Daddy Drinks to Forget, in historic Tugnut, Texas.

Two things that make me happy, and one thing that fills me with senseless rage.

I watch the show Toddlers and Tiaras, as it's the most awesome mix of horrifying and entertaining since Hoarders. We're gonna bypass the fact that moms dress their 4-year old daughters in Pretty Woman hooker wear and Dolly Parton fake boobs - not because it isn't OMGWTFHEADEXPLODETASTIC, but because there's probably someone else out there outraged about it at this very moment, and I strive for original outrage. So today I am outraged over DUMBASS HICK PARENTS WHO GIVE THEIR CHILDREN NON-NAMES.

Watch Toddlers and Tiaras and you'll find an endless parade of little girls named Madison, Makayla, Jadelyn, Payton, Rylee, Kaelin, Ashlynn, Brooklyn (where's her sister, Bronx?), Morgan, Sparkle, Kianah, Hadyn, Baileigh, Queen, Paisley, and... I dunno, Argyle? Kahlua? Midori Sour on the Rocks with a Twist of Lime?

Sadly, very few of those sprung from my fertile imagination (and the last one was my drink order... make it a double!) I also expect to see a little girl named Argyle VERY SOON - do not let me down dumbass hick parents of America! I mean... please don't name your children dumb shit like Paisley and Argyle. Yeah. (Sorry, I got momentarily caught up in Schadenfreude.)

Real names are things like Elizabeth (not Alyzabethe), Abigail (not Abbagayle), Sarah (not Serrah), or Rebecca (not Rabbekkah). Do not give your children unnecessary letters like you are naming a Ye Olde English Shoppe. Do not name your children after your favorite alcoholic beverage, fabric, fruit, street sign, city, or car. (I am astounded there is no "Camry" yet. ASTOUNDED. Or pardon me, "Camreigh." Gotta Ye Olde Englishe that shit up!)

Or at least be authentic about it. Instead of trying to sound all unique and highfalutin' by naming your child Madison (like Madison Avenue, I get it!! You must be from New York City instead of East Twittlefuck, Kentucky*!!) Sterling Queen the IV, let your white trash freak flag fly and name her Pabst Blue Ribbon. After all, you might as well give tribute to what caused dear JadieLynn SparkleBrite's conception in the first place. Sounds like a ready made pageant winner to me! Just add wig, boobs and hooker boots, and maybe a cigarette so she looks *extra* sophisticated.

God I love that show.

Sincerely,
Maellissah's Ye Olde Cigare Shoppe and Gentleman's Clubbe.

Now that the horrid untraditional names are out of the way, here's something I love: the colorful plastic barrettes I had when I was a little girl are still sold!! I saw some in Target the other day and I was all OMGNOSTALGIAFACE! I almost bought some. Not to wear, more as a... talisman? I love when things I love don't change. Even though they'll be worn by a generation of Jadyns and Ashlees, I still love them. They deserve better. I hope my future Abigail enjoys them as much as her mommy did. http://www.totallyfashiontrendy.com/v/vspfiles/assets/images/000%20bh%2050%20036.jpg <------ small happy piece of my childhood right there!

Second, completely random thing I love: Autumn! I love Harvest Moons. I love the phrase "Harvest Moon." I love this picture of a Harvest Moon http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harvest_moon. I love pumpkins and apples and Halloween and hayrides and corn mazes and drinking hot cider in the evening with a slight nip in the air, the kind of air that smells vaguely of wood smoke. I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT AUTUMN. I might even consider naming my child "Autumn." I know I know, naming a child after a season is one step away from naming her after booze or a sock pattern, but DAMMIT! SO PRETTY! I would refrain from calling her Autumn Apple, or Autumn Hayride. (On a side note, those are some damn fine names for seasonal beers. USE THEM!) Okay okay, I will stick with Abigail and let my love for Autumn speak for itself. Paisley lovers, take note: I heard there's a sale on socks somewhere. Step away from the baby before you do something drastic!!

Love,
AutumnLeigh SparkleeSpice HarvestMoon,
2011 Lil Miss Deep Fried Turkey Leg
(And do not tell me there isn't a pageant somewhere in the south called Lil Miss Deep Fried Turkey Leg. You KNOW there is.)

*East Twittlefuck and West Twittlefuck have a VICIOUS football rivalry, so if you're ever in East Twittlefuck do not, I repeat, DO NOT wear West Twittlefuck colors or you'll be shot down like a crip on a blood corner. And then fed to goats.

http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/michele-bachmann-irene-gods-warning-washington-campaign-joking/story?id=14404962

This post is dedicated to Michele Bachmann, who I do not believe for one second was joking. (I am, of course, deadly serious.)

So if Hurricane Irene was God's warning to Washington to stop... something (not exactly sure what... stop Obama from caving to the tea party? Nah that probably wasn't it), what is the Almighty Significance of the Texas wildfires? God has a problem with Rick Perry? Or George Bush? Maybe Roger Clemens? Stetson hats? Um... Pace picante sauce?

Clearly, I took the wrong life lesson from Katrina. The real message was, GOD FUCKING HATES GUMBO. I MEAN OKRA, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I DIDN'T MAKE THAT SHIT TO EAT! *SMACK*

This just in http://news.yahoo.com/hockey-shock-russian-jet-crash-kills-43-185622176: Apparently, God also fucking hates hockey. Damn, God sucks. :( Or at least, Michele Bachmann's God sucks. Maybe Michele Bachmann just sucks. Yeah... let's go with that.

So stuff happens, and the president is playing golf.

Nothing ever really changes.

Every president, no matter the climate of the country or the world, ends up playing golf somewhere. It's like they're all the same person; different decade, same silhouette. The Figurehead of the Traveling Khakis. Air Force Polo Shirt.

I hate golf.

What is it about golf that turns people into smug assholes? It's like "I'm on a boat motherfucker," except "I'm on a golf course" and not funny. Why do presidents play golf while their country is in turmoil? There's something very let-them-eat-cakey about it. Bush personified it to the point of stereotyping it, as Bush was wont to do. "We're gonna catch those evildoers... now watch this swing!"

I guess I can't fault Obama, he's human and he needs a vacation. It's just... fucking golf! It fills me with rage. I'd rather see him on a boat, motherfucker. There's something real about a boat at least. Out in the elements, man vs nature. Golf is like... artificial nature. Like here's a tree and here's a lake and it's all real, yet somehow plasticy. They're spaced too perfectly and there aren't any weeds and you can tell some rich asshole put them there, probably digging up real nature to plant his imported fakey grass. They're beautiful I guess, but in the way an overprocessed supermodel is beautiful. Golf courses are the boob jobs of nature. You can totally quote me on that.

Golf courses are also the auto-tune of nature. Yeah, that's a good one.

I used to enjoy watching the PGA tour (somehow people who play golf for a living don't annoy me like politicians and rich assholes playing in their leisure time while the people who work for them are worrying how they'll make their house payment). Specifically, I enjoyed watching Tiger Woods. Then Tiger went from selling fancy razors to a massive trainwreck overnight, and the top players went from superstars to random names out of a phone book. "Joe Wilson wins the Masters!" "Who the fuck is that?!" Thank you, Tiger Woods' genitals, for ruining the only thing that was remotely interesting about golf.

So, this post ended up being about golf. Ok.

One more thing about Obama. I supported him and still do. I think more was expected out of him than he could ever deliver, especially with the crew of Cruella DeVilles the republicans elected to skin puppies, I mean, foil him at every turn. (Michele Bachmann has a coat made out of puppies somewhere. You KNOW she does.) However, he could fight harder instead of coming off as the Harried Dad from a Sitcom. The tea partiers might be spoiled, unruly children but that doesn't mean you give in to them. You stand up and say "I'm the father and I'm in charge here, BECAUSE I SAID SO!" It kind of feels like his campaign slogan should be "Obama 2012: Because everyone else is batshit crazy." Doesn't have quite the ring of "Hope and change," but it beats the hell out of his opponent's slogan "Cruella DeVille 2012: If she doesn't scare you, no evil thing will!" (Just substitute he for she in case of Rick Perry. Still totally works.)

And uh, no more golf, please? Can we put an end to the golf thing for politicians? Just because it fills me with possibly irrational anger? Thanks. (Okay, not so irrational. Because it makes you look like Lord Khakipants von Countryclub the Third instead of a public servant. That's right, I said it. LORD KHAKIPANTS VON COUNTRYCLUB THE THIRD. It has already turned John Boehner orange with privilege, do not let this happen to you!)

We now return to your regular silliness. No, I am not counting Lord Khakipants von Countryclub the Third as silliness. That is serious political discourse, dammit!

If I had a billion dollars, I'd buy back my old room.

This pretty much sums up my life lately. I feel so lost, and want to return to what's familiar. But sadly that was lost a long time ago. The town I grew up in is still pretty much the same, the house I grew up in is still there, but someone else lives in it. They have for a long time. Parents never consult the kids when they sell off their childhoods. Now I want it back. I feel like everything that's mine is still there, and everything that came after is fake. This probably comes from not having kids of my own yet and wanting them so badly. Their childhood will replace my lost one, and enrich who I am now to the point that maybe I feel real again. And I won't be so quick to sell theirs to the highest bidder, just in case they want to come back and visit. Reclaim that little piece of who they are whenever they start feeling lost in the foreign, adult world.

I grew up on a quiet, modest suburban street. Kids rode their bikes, dads watered the lawn, moms baked cookies in the kitchen. All the yards had fruit trees. You could walk almost anywhere in the town from my house, to the various parks and swimming pools, to the stores downtown, to the library, to school, to your friends' houses and back home again. It never felt anything but safe doing that, and no it wasn't the 1950s. Your house was... your house, part of who you were, not some transitive residence. You knew every nook and cranny. It was home.

I used to think this Everywhere USA of my childhood was cheesy, I took it for granted the way that only someone who "has" can. When everything is familiar, you crave unfamiliar. You feel like something must be wrong if you feel so content. Surely, there must be more to life than this!

And probably for some people, there is more. For me, that was bliss, but the kind you don't know you've got til it's gone. Like the Big Yellow Taxi. Paving paradise and putting up a parking lot. When I hear that song, I automatically think that childhood is the paradise, and the parking lot everything that comes after. It makes me sad. But then I think, you can plant a garden, you can recreate paradise. That's the answer. What you have lost, give to your children. Make sure they never lose it. Childhood isn't something to be abandoned but something to be built on. "Home" is important because you are important. I've lived in enough disposable apartments to know, after a while you start feeling disposable yourself.

I just wanna go home.

Here's something disturbing I've noticed lately: mean Christians.

We'll call them "Talk Radio Christians." I'm not saying one has to be all syrupy sweet and nice to be Christian, but I don't think men of the cloth should spout off like Rush Limbaugh. And I don't necessarily mean that politically, though I do think the unholy marriage between right wing politics and Christianity plays a part - the politicizing of evangelism. Or evangelizing of politics? Either way, scary stuff, and not just cause it got Bush elected twice, but because there is a hard edge to Christianity these days. Jesus embodied peace, humility, modesty, charity. He wore frickin sandals for pete's sake! I can hear one of today's oh-so-cool "politically incorrect" ministers making a whole sermon about guys wearing sandals being gay hippies, until someone kindly pulls him aside and explains.

These are not the majority of Christians, I know. But I think in a misguided, possibly unconcious attempt to be modern and hardcore, aided and abetted by political agendas, the soul and depth of spirituality is slowly being replaced by wordly hate and anger. And sneering. And if there's one thing Jesus would most definitely not do, it's sneer. Jesus would not be flippant. He would not be hard.

"For God so loved the world he gave his one and only son..." A prominent Evangelical politician made a bill about lightbulbs, and boasts about it as a big achievement. LIGHT. BULBS. You are seriously wasting God's time here people! Not helping the poor, healing the sick? You're really going with lightbulbs? What would Jesus do, you ask? Be fucking petty about anything that might have to do with hippies! Or queers! Damn straight! *fires off shotgun* Oh yeah, Jesus owned a gun, it's in the constitution!

When religion becomes too much about wordly things it isn't religion anymore. It's politics disguised as holy war. It's using God as justification for personal prejudices. Yes, the Bible has some anti-gay sentiment. It also has some anti-ham sentiment. And anti-tattoo sentiment. And pro-slavery sentiment. HI PEOPLE, TIMES CHANGE! That doesn't mean the basic teachings of the Bible should be thrown out with the bathwater, but if some parts are outdated it stands to reason others can be too. It's called THINKING OBJECTIVELY.

So enough enabling people to give in to their basest feelings and fears and call it virtue. Isn't spirituality supposed to lift people up? I'm tired of Christians acting the exact fucking opposite of what Christianity stands for. Be bold in your convictions, absolutely! No one's saying you have to be a cookie baking church lady. But... you do have to have compassion. This is not optional. It really, really is what Jesus would do. If it doesn't come from a place of compassion, I don't know where it comes from but it probably isn't good.

"A book? What is this shit?"

Dear universe,

I like books. Real, live, flesh and blood books. The kind with crinkly pages and an inviting woodsy scent. I do not want to read "books" on a cold, flat screen. I don't care if I can fit the entire works of Shakespeare into some little whojit the size of my bellybutton. Reading actual books is not hard! It's nice!

Just because you CAN do something with technology doesn't mean you SHOULD. Not everything needs to be "better." What's next, e-cheeseburgers? Who needs declicious gooey cheese when you can eat internet! We shall completely eliminate the need for napkins! And ketchup! And stupid BREAD!! Holy crap, I'm a genius. "Hahaha, you still eat bread? Buckle up Grampa, it's 2011 and if you're hungry, there's an app for that!" "But... food tastes good..." "SHUT UP OLD MAN!"

So please, awesome universe of the future, leave books alone and put your genius into curing cancer or something. Let's produce goods we can see, hear, smell, touch and taste before our nerve endings die off from lack of use.

"And now... new digital fingers, so you don't actually have to touch your new digital book!"

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Sometimes I want to wake up and have it be 1962.

I see that whatever replaced my long-ago avocados (or limes) has been replaced by pink birds. That's cool. I can deal with that.

Now on to the point of my post which is - guess what - I'm ANGRY about something! RAWRRR! I am entitling this post "Attack of the pc people," with a caveat.

There are some very extreme ideologies in this world. Sometimes it seems the ideology-ridden far outnumber the reasonable, moderate people. Well maybe that's not true. Maybe they're just louder. Let's take the "comments" section of Yahoo news I mentioned briefly in my last post. Every story about President Obama, you can bet there will be two ignorant assfucks who post stuff like "don't trust barack HUSSEIN obama!! hurrhurr" for every normal person who posts something like, actually relevant to the topic. Oh fuck it, there's probably more like 3 or 4 of 'em. So there's that. Which sucks, and is SURPRISINGLY prevalent in 2011. Like it even surprises me, and I pretty much think people are ignorant assfucks to begin with, so yeah. It's SHOCKING.

But what I'm writing about today is the flipside. Which is equally ignorant and reactionary. And possibly even more annoying because it's done by people you'd think would know better. Or that's what I used to think. Then I realized, you can't reason with people who run on pure ideology. Whether it's ignorant redneck ideology or so-called enlightened ideology. It's the EXACT SAME THING - basically if you don't agree with my rail-thin life view, FUCK YOU. Ahh, enlightened right? So...

Attack of the pc people!

I'm a member of a social anxiety community on LJ. I never post there because I'm not keen on opening myself up to strangers, even in a so-called "safe" environment. I read and respond to other people's posts occasionally. The community rules specifically state it's a "safe place" and no personal attacks are allowed. But that didn't stop the pc people from attacking.

A girl posted about an experience that makes her socially uncomfortable, one that also happens to make me uncomfortable: riding public transportation, with the sort of people who ride public transportation. People who are often publicly drunk or high and do not respect other people's boundaries. Pretty awful for anyone I'd say, but imagine how that kind of unsolicited encounter feels to someone with SA. For instance, it annoys the fuck out of me when a "normal" random person comes up to me and says something like HOT ENOUGH FOR YA (no I carry a toaster in my pants so I can be EVEN HOTTER, dumbass) or some inane crap like that. I feel momentarily uncomfortable, but it passes. Y'know, like gas. (Aren't comments like that just like verbal farts, really?) But when some random dude with stale beer breath and hair that looks like it needs to be jiffy lubed comes up and starts rambling to me about communism or something, I feel REALLY FUCKING CREEPED OUT. And awkward, and ridiculous, even though I'm the sane one in the situation. It's an awful spot for someone with SA to stuck in, which is the point this girl was making.

CUE: the pc people! OMG you're ELITIST, you're CLASSIST (um no... I'm just saying these situations make me uncomfortable) you're a PRINCESS (no... really... I was just hoping for some understanding about an SA issue... in an SA community) NO YOU ARE AN ELITIST CLASSIST PRINCESS AND I AM A POLITICALLY CORRECT SAINT WHO WOULDN'T HURT A FLY CAUSE THAT WOULD BE FLYIST (well your attitude hurt me... actually) NO YOU DON'T COUNT! YOU'RE NOT OPPRESSED! (but I have SA... just like you) NO YOU'RE A CLASSIST RACIST ELITIST FLYIST PRINCESS!!!

See... it's just too much. They couldn't look past their own ideological knee-jerk response to see her point about people who can't respect personal boundaries, just because some of them happen to be homeless and have other mental disorders. So, she's supposed to just ignore something that triggers her disorder for the sake of political correctness? Being so-called socially enlightened while judging people in the exact same way you're accusing them of doing and WORSE, resorting to name calling, is REALLY LAME. Do not do this, lest you be a giant poopyhead. This has been a public service announcement.

Be nice. But not so "nice" it makes you a jackass, eh?

So I read something today that changed my life! Ok, it didn't. Nothing will ever change my life. But I really wanna start writing here again. Man, I used to write some good stuff here.

The secret to blogging when you have no life is:

Write about any and every random experience or thought that tickles your fancy. Like the 26 cents guy. The "bigness" doesn't come from the magnitude of the experience, it comes from inside your head. They always say "life is what you make it" (they being the sort of people who say stuff like that; I imagine they're also the sort of people who collect thimbles*). Blogging is the one case where LIFE ACTUALLY IS WHAT YOU MAKE IT. You can take that experience and make whatever clowns and confetti you want jump out of it, as long as it has a kernel of truth in it. The kernel of truth is very important.

Making things big in your head can be hard when your head is feeling very small, and your experiences are small to begin with. This, I think, is why I stopped posting. But I should try harder, because I actually don't suck at it. I wonder how you actually get people to read your blog.

The source of this life changing event is this http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/09/four-levels-of-social-entrapment.html
I've read this blog several times and been amused by its amusingness, but somehow this amazing kernel of truth eluded me. Til tonight. It's so awesome, it doesn't even need confetti. It's just true... if you're a person like me. Which I am.

I think the most astonishing part came in the comments section. Let it be said I never, ever read comments sections anymore after reading comments on Yahoo news stories. Or maybe they were "who can sound like the biggest redneck idiot ever!" contests. But I digress. Here was a place I felt safe reading comments and what do I stumble upon but... "I'm tired of social niceties making a recluse out of me."

I'M TIRED OF SOCIAL NICETIES MAKING A RECLUSE OUT OF ME! OMFG SOMEONE ELSE THINKS THIS WAY AND IS LIKE ME!!!!

You've gotta understand... I have NEVER seen anything like that expressed in my entire 30+ years of life. There is no way I can explain the magnitude of that moment without turning on capslock again. Suffice to say, I feel oddly vindicated. I, too, no longer want social niceties making a recluse out of me! I will express this by making a concerted effort to write down all those little things and try to make them big, instead of squishing them down because I feel small. Cause... there's a LOT of stuff in here, you know. And it needs to come out.

AND I AM SICK OF SOCIAL NICETIES KEEPING ME DOWN! THEY'RE LIKE THE MAN, BUT THEY KNIT YOU AN UGLY SHAWL! I AM HERE TO CELEBRATE AND THROW CONFETTI! AND CLOWNS!

*I have no idea what thimbles do. None. Zip.