Paris Hilton’s Prison Diary
The minute, the second I learned that Paris Hilton would keep a prison diary, I said to Karen, “Now, THAT would make a GREAT blog!”
Right away, the comic gears began to turn, and my mind became a kaleidoscope of all the Hilton canards. The pettiness. The vanity. The jealousy. The idiocy. All the Deadly Sins wrapped up in one petite blonde brazilianed package.
And then, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck I discover someone has beaten me to it:
The Inner Thoughts of Paris Hilton
Each post concludes with the ass-bandage,
Disclaimer: This site is intended for parody only and was not created by Paris Hilton nor intended for any purpose other than entertainment.
Coward.
Well, at least now there’s nothing to distract me from finishing my romance and participating in Samhain’s Best First Line contest (see Kate for the full dish). (And don’t forget Kate’s contest where you can, like, win stuff!)
Let’s do us some live-blogging tomorrow night, okay? See ya when I see ya.
D.
Thirteen Presents for Father’s Day
Some creative ideas for the perv man of the household. I’m warning you now, don’t let the wee ones follow you below the fold.
Sorry for the quickie thirteen, but Walnut gots a cold and canna think too clearly.
Courage
I’ve been thinking about courage lately.
Oops! Not that kind of courage. (Although, you must admit it takes real courage to show your camel toe.) I meant this kind of courage:
(From SueRob’s photostream.) Look at this little guy. You just know he’s about to make a great leap into the unknown, don’t you?
Impeach Gonzalez NOW, damn it
Folks who argue, “We just don’t have the votes,” fail to realize how unpopular Alberto Gonzalez is right now. How many Republicans will be willing to stand by Dubya’s man? Isn’t it far more likely that they’ll cave to public pressure, or at least abstain?
Impeach Gonzalez: go and sign the petition now. Um, pretty please? Unless you’re one of my outside-of-the-US readers, of course.
I’ve got more on my plate for tonight . . . stay tuned.
D.
You’re not paranoid . . .
if they’re really out to get ya.
Karen insists I’m paranoid. At the very least, I read too much Daily Kos. “Will Bush Walk Away in 2009?” showed up on the Recommended list this AM and it gave me the serious heebie jeebies. Enough heebie jeebies that I headed over to We Move To Canada, followed the links, and confirmed for myself that yes, Canada would grant me residency if I jumped through all the hoops. (72 points, and passing is 67. Woot!)
Here’s the issue. For the last few days, posters over at Daily Kos have been writing about the internal coup (BushCo’s successful attempts to control all three branches of government; and if you don’t believe BushCo controls Congress, witness last week’s conciliation to Bush on the war) and, today, the National Security and Homeland Security Presidential Directive. That’s the directive which allows Bush to take full control of the Federal Government in case of a national catastrophic emergency, which is defined,
(b) “Catastrophic Emergency” means any incident, regardless of location, that results in extraordinary levels of mass casualties, damage, or disruption severely affecting the U.S. population, infrastructure, environment, economy, or government functions
It’s that phrase “regardless of location” which freaked out the post’s author, and me, too. Select the following options from this vague definition: “regardless of location” (outside the US, for example?) “disruption severely affecting . . . the economy.” What do you call the Iraq occupation, for the love of God? And the comments were even more frightening than the post. To me, the “It could never happen here” commenters had weak arguments. The “Better watch your ass” commenters struck a chord.
Think I’m overreacting? What about Halliburton’s contract to build concentration camps right here in the US of A? Karen, whose mom spent time in one of those concentration Japanese internment camps, says, “I always figured they were going to use those for American citizens of Arabic ancestry.” I think they’re for dissenters of any stripe — American gulags. And even if Karen’s right, am I supposed to feel relieved?
My worry is that BushCo will suspend the ’08 election; or, post-election, assuming the Dems win, he’ll claim some sort of “Catastrophic Emergency” as justification for not leaving office. I’d like to think the people of this country would respond appropriately to such an act of violence upon the Constitution, but most Americans have, in the last 6 years, been little more than sheep. Would they stand up?
Look at the violence this Administration has done to American values: a war of aggression, habeas corpus, torture, the looting of the US Treasury. Nixon was impeached for far less, yet we are repeatedly told (even by my Congressman, Pete DeFazio) that impeachment is impossible. Many of us feel that impeachment hearings would focus public attention on the crimes of this Administration, and with overwhelming public support, Republican Representatives and Senators might feel be forced to cave in to the people’s will.
Meanwhile, I need to decide how much is too much.
I’m trying to get Karen to agree to a vacation in British Columbia. They say every journey begins with a single step . . .
D.
Three bloody things
A meme from Tiggs. Go check out her place or she’ll spank you. Of course, she might spank if you do visit her. Tiggs’ blog is that kinda place.
Three Things That Scare Me:
1. George W. Bush and his evil cronies
2. Fascists
3. Religious/political ideologues
Yeah, I cheated. They’re all the same.
Three People Who Make Me Laugh:
1. Cintra Wilson
2. Jon Stewart
3. Stephen Colbert
Three Things I Love:
1. My fambly
2. A good massage
3. A perfect meal
Three Things I Hate:
1. Cancer
2. Heartburn
3. My ferret, when she musks
Three Things I Don’t Understand:
1. Legalese
2. Administratorese
3. Dirtyknese
Three Things On My Desk:
1. An ancient copy of Stedman’s Medical Dictionary
2. My Blackberry
3. That June Cosmo I so recently dished on
Three Things I’m Doing Right Now:
1. Waiting for the laundry to dry
2. Airing out the bedroom (the ferret musked, remember?)
3. Wondering if my family will be content with leftovers
Three Things I Want To Do Before I Die:
1. Cruise the Aegean
2. Watch the war crimes trials of Bush, Cheney, Rice, Rumsfeld, and Gonzales
3. Attend the post-Rapture bash. It’s gonna be fabulous.
Three Things I Can Do:
1. Write
2. Fix people
3. Make people laugh, present blog entry excepted
Three Things I Can’t Do:
1. Team sports
2. Understand folks who say they need to “drill down on those numbers”
3. Handle celibacy
Three Things I Think You Should Listen To:
1. Gogol Bordello’s Punk Rock Paranda
2. Soft Cell’s Chips on My Shoulder
3. Nine Inch Nails’ La Mer/The Great Below
Three Things You Should Never Listen To:
1. Tucker Carlson
2. Bill O’Reilly
3. Ann Coulter
Three Things I’d Like To Learn:
1. Shiatsu
2. Screenwriting
3. Any musical instrument. I can’t even blow on a damn didgeridoo.
Three Favorite Foods:
1. Dim sum (especially jellyfish, yum!)
2. Sushi
3. Italian. Good Italian. Not that Olive Garden crap.
Three Shows I Watched As A Kid:
1. Garner Ted Armstrong
2. Wonderama
3. Night Gallery (how’s that for a trio?)
Three Things I Regret:
1. Not having better self knowledge as a kid, young adult . . .
2. Not having faith in myself to take chances
3. That I didn’t indulge in more high risk behavior as a college student
Three People I Tag:
Hmm. Who won’t mind? How about . . .
D.
Fressing
Seems like all we ever do on vacation is eat. Not that there’s anything wrong with eating; and from a coolly philosophical point of view, pleasure is pleasure, right? Some folks hike, some shop, some have sex with underage prostitutes. We eat.
Excuse me a second. Karen just put a slice of Key Lime pie under my nose.
True, we did the Cabaret the other night, and last night we saw Shrek 3 (meh. Better than Spiderman 3, but not nearly as fine as Exorcist 3. And Evil Dead 3, AKA Army of Darkness — now, there was a 3!) Otherwise, we’ve planned our days from one meal to the next. In brief, since all of these meals were good but none were rave-worthy, we had Italian the first night, sushi the second, Cuban/tapas the third. But I’d rather remember some meals from vacations past.
I suspect I could write a 13 on this. Hell, I probably already have.
Our honeymoon really did hit a culinary homerun. Perhaps because we were both in Europe for the first time — perhaps that made the food memories more intense. Our first night in Brugge, we had a mixed grill at an oooold place that played the Best of Lionel Richie over ‘n over again. Lots of meat that night. Too much meat. We rolled back to our pensione and crashed.
I had some of the best and some of the worst food of my life in France. The worst: steak and fries at a roadside diner. I’d swear that steak was liver, and the fries, boiled, then dressed with oil. The best: a tie between mussels at a 2-star restaurant across from the Louvre, and blood sausage in a little place near one of Da Vinci’s supposed burial grounds.
Baguettes and pate really do make for a satisfying lunch, the red table wine in Italy really is top notch, and the Germans really do know their beers.
New Orleans food kicked ass, too. Oysters Rockefeller, mmmm. And haven’t I written about soft-shelled crab swimming in clarified butter?
Ipswich clams at the Ventura Pier, the one that washed away. Seared duck breast at Hoppe’s near Morro Bay. Scampi at La Pergola’s, North Beach.
Yeah, you all knew I would never last as a vegetarian.
D.
The joys of small theater
We went to the Ashland Cabaret last night and saw “The History of Western Civilization, Abridged,” a musical comedy. It had all the energy (and budget) of a talented high school production, and the satire was only marginally sharper than what you would expect from American theater. Not pablum, but not as cutting edge as your average Family Guy episode.
Despite all o’ that, we had fun, and Jake really liked it. Bear in mind that his frame of reference includes only a high school production of The Nutcracker.
But I miss the Los Angeles small theater scene. In tiny venues on (or just off) Melrose, Karen and I saw “Specific Hospital,” an improv spoof on the soap; “Stumpy’s Gang,” which concerned the janitor of a genetic engineering firm and his friends, the company’s discarded monstrosities, with whom he creates a television variety show;and, best of all, “Zombie Attack.”
“Zombie Attack” concerned a group of 20-somethings who spend the weekend at the remote cabin of one of their recently deceased aunts. They’re there to clean up the joint, but on the way, a cat gets hit by a car. The group’s wannabe occultist attempts a resurrection ritual which, as you might guess from the title, has unintended consequences.
See, there’s a serial killer on the loose, which you ought to have surmised from the phrase “remote cabin.” The role was played by the guy from “Third Rock From the Sun,” the fellow with the crazy facial expressions. He wasn’t a TV star at the time. But lordy, did that man have star quality. He was amazing. Anyway, he has been burying his victims in a nearby field. The zombies have to come from somewhere, doncha know.
To this day, I can’t imagine anything more fun than a live action zombie show. Barring anything with nudity, of course.
Last night’s show lacked “Zombie Attack”‘s free-wheeling insanity and near-painful edge. But one look at the audience explained why: largely an older crowd, unlike the folks who showed for those Melrose productions.
It’s like the Las Vegas phenomenon: playing to the common denominator. Yet again, I want to be back in the City, any city (except Vegas), and this time it isn’t my stomach talking.
D.
Friday Fourteen: I read Cosmo so you don’t have to
June Cosmo surprises with its meaty goodness. You might actually want to purchase this one, or at least finger to the good bits while waiting in the checkout line.
We’ll be leaving for Ashland later this afternoon, so my linky lurvitude may be a little slow to manifest. When I’m posting from the Blackberry, anything too complex becomes a challenge. Now how do I copy a URL when there’s no Ctrl-C? Yeah, it’s a pain in the arse.
So if you come late to the party and you’d like some lurve for one of your recent posts, feel free to post a link in the comments. And I know a few of you aren’t HTML-savvy, so here’s a quickie tutorial.
Got it? Good!
On to the Fourteen: Fourteen Things I Learned From Cosmo, part . . . aw, whatever.
The Thursday Thirteen
. . . just became the Friday Fourteen. Let’s just hope it doesn’t become the Saturday Sixteen or the Sunday Seventeen.
Long, painful week, and I’m fresh out of creative energy. On the upside, I’m taking the next four days off. I’ll have that Fourteen whipped out in no time flat tomorrow morning. See ya then.
D.