Monday, July 30, 2012

Brought to you by the NHS

I am a huge Olympics fan.  I have always loved the opening ceremonies and had a party in college to celebrate them.  It was a lame party because I lived in a very dumpy apartment and we had to watch it on a teeny screen.  Sorry, college friends.

So this year I decided to go all out and have a big fun party to celebrate the London opening ceremony.  After all, I am a huge anglophile.  How could I not celebrate?!  Over 20 people came and we were having a great time.  Then, the ceremony started and we were baffled.  

First, the whole thing was...just...MEH.  Not that interesting.  I mean, sure, the Queen skydiving was great (but man, did she ever look pissed off).  And then, the whole NHS thing started.  What the heck?!  Why would they dance around the NHS logo?  It didn't make any sense.  Should we have this in our next Olympic games?  

Then the whole glowing bed thing happened.  Huh.  Don't really get that so much, either.  

But then the thing went from weird to SCARY!  What the heck were they thinking?  This was like a nightmare!

And then Voldemort appeared and they shot the Dark Mark above the amphitheater.  And then the crowd went berserk and spells were flying around and...wait...wrong story.  

And this, my friends, is what happens if the NHS nurses dance around you.  You turn into a big, scary, dead baby with a bisected skull.  The end of the joyful Olympics.  

 Thankfully, Mr. Bean saved the day with his funny sketch.  I got really depressed when poor Muhammad Ali couldn't grab the flag and I ended the ceremony both baffled, frightened and disappointed.

They should have just had David Beckham run around naked and call it a day.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Viva La...Informacion

Today a close family member had surgery at an openly Catholic hospital.  In a mark of pure idiocy, I showed up to the hospital wearing this shirt:

a spoof of the "Viva la Revolution" logo with Che Guevara:

I didn't even pay attention to what shirt I was putting on.  I simply wore clothes that made me look like a softball player (ifyoucatchmydrift).  I didn't even think about wearing a Martin Luther shirt to a Catholic hospital.  Dur!!  So my choices were to keep my arms over my shirt, looking really cranky, or have to look the icon that faced me in the eye and wear this rebellious shirt.  I'm sure Martin would have been proud.

My sister tells me that it doesn't matter, no one thinks about it and, more shockingly, no one knows the history of Martin Luther.  I was appalled.  Is she right?  Do average Americans not know this critical piece of world history?  He was a weirdo, but an inspired weirdo responsible for dividing Christian churches into Catholic and Protestant.

Please.  Tell me you knew this.

Monday, July 23, 2012

Evita Jackson

So in case you have missed it, Michael Jackson's mother is allegedly missing.  Michael's children (Prince, Paris and Blanket) haven't seen their legal guardian in over a week and haven't been allowed to talk to her.  

Katherine's children, who are pissed that she won't give them more money (in a nutshell) insist that she is just fine!  She's resting and the doctors won't allow her to talk to the children.  You know, the children she's been taking care of!!!

Is it just coincidence that her adult children are upset about money and then she vanishes?  No!  No coincidence at all!

Could she just make a quick phone call?  Apparently not.  Could she Skype?  Nope.  Could she send them an email?  No.  Something is very fishy and it begins to remind me of Norman Bates.  What is going on?  And more importantly, are you freaking kidding me?  Could this family be more of a freak show?

But then, surprise!  They release a picture of Katherine!  She may not be able to communicate with the kids or anyone else, but she sure is able to play Uno!  Of course!

Now, instead of reminding me of Norman Bates, I'm thinking more along the lines of Eva Peron's restless corpse.  You know, the corpse that was well preserved and dragged all around the world, stuffed in attics, closets, and even in a dining room where her hair was brushed every day and a woman climbed into the coffin to absorb her magical powers.

I think they've had Katherine preserved!  She's been hiding in Germaine's closet and he dragged her out and propped her up to the table to look like she's having a great time playing Uno.

All in a day's work in this freaking family!

Sunday, July 22, 2012

We let go with hope

I am really struggling with blogging since this shooting.  I keep thinking of funny things to blog about, but it just seems wrong.  I used to work in a theater when I was in high school, and I immediately thought about all the poor teenagers that were undoubtedly working that night.

I keep thinking about those poor people trapped in the dark unable to escape.

I keep thinking about the poor survivors and the long road ahead.

I keep thinking about the poor grieving families.  Losing my dad was so hard, but we didn't lose him to the hands of another.  How would you deal with that?

I keep thinking about the poor emergency personnel who had to go into a terrifying unknown.  The men and women that bravely try to detonate this sick man's apartment.

In a few days, I will be able to blog about Katherine Jackson's apparent kidnap.  But for now, I think about those affected and I think of this song by Steven Curtis Chapman after his daughter was killed.

We hope.

This is not at all how
We thought it was supposed to be
We had so many plans for you
We had so many dreams
And now you've gone away
And left us with the memories of your smile
And nothing we can say
And nothing we can do
Can take away the pain
The pain of losing you, but ...

We can cry with hope
We can say goodbye with hope
'Cause we know our goodbye is not the end, oh no
And we can grieve with hope
'Cause we believe with hope
(There's a place by God's grace)
There's a place where we'll see your face again
We'll see your face again

And never have I known
Anything so hard to understand
And never have I questioned more
The wisdom of God's plan
But through the cloud of tears
I see the Father's smile and say well done
And I imagine you
Where you wanted most to be
Seeing all your dreams come true
'Cause now you're home
And now you're free, and ...

We have this hope as an anchor
'Cause we believe that everything
God promised us is true, so ...

So we can cry with hope
And say goodbye with hope

We wait with hope
And we ache with hope
We hold on with hope
We let go with hope

Monday, July 16, 2012

Lotsa Time

It must be summer vacation from school.  I have time to be irritated that the stupid pigs on "Angry Birds" smile at you when you lose.

Saturday, July 14, 2012

I am offended for them!

I saw a Febreze commercial today, and it offended me on many levels!  I think all their ads are dumb without being offensive.  You can't tell me that if you fill a car with trash and then spray Febreze that it will no longer smell like garbage.  You can't tell me that a stinky toilet will no longer smell with Febreze around.

 In college, I had roommates that really felt that if they sprayed enough strawberry air freshener in the bathroom, it would hide the unmistakable odor of a twosie.  All that happened was it smelled like doodie AND strawberry stink. That's just the way it goes!  It made me want to hurl even MORE.

 But then, in true Olympic spirit, Febreze creates an ad about these guys. Watch the full two minutes - it does include the ad.


OK, wait just a cotton picking minute!  Yes, I get it.  Wrestling stinks.  That is the least of its repulsive qualities, but yes, sweat and rubber mats stink.  But should we really be implying that men from Azerbaijan stink?  I mean, maybe they do, but it seems very rude to me!

Second of all, should we really be using a small unknown country to promote an air freshener?   Seriously.  Did they run this by the U.N. first?

Third of all, sniffing a guy's cup is going to stink.  It may smell like passion fruit, but it's gonna smell like passion fruit and crotch.  Don't even get me started on the effects of spraying all this chemical crap around.

 And finally, really?  A potpourri factory?  A guy suggested this as a scent?   And this isn't scripted?   And, is that a compliment?  I think potpourri stinks.

So, in conclusion, I don't like it!  Stop picking on the poor Azerbaijan men!  And just accept the fact that candles, Scentsys, and air fresheners are never going to eliminate smell completely.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Look at me!

I worked out next to my doctor today.  This isn't the first time I've seen her at the gym.  I'm not sure she knows who I am, but she must be wondering what the heck is wrong with the sweaty blonde staring at her the whole time.

It's a lot of pressure!  What is she thinking?  Does she think I'm working out hard enough?  Too hard?  Does she want to take my pulse?  Will I get extra credit for running into her at the gym multiple times?

And then the other part of my brain is thinking "Wow, you'd think a doctor would go to a more expensive gym!  Hey, I'm working out longer than her!  And she's not even breaking a sweat like I am!  I wonder what book she's reading?  She's listening to music at the same time, that is weird.  What kind of music does she listen to while reading?"

I have complained so many times about running into my students in public and them staring at me like crazy.  Or wanting to talk about school.  And look at me, I'm all

Look at me!  Look at me!  Aren't you proud?  What are you doing?
Yes, I am pathetic.   Sorry, Dr. Anonymous.

Monday, July 2, 2012


How could you do this to me?

The day after I wrote about you!  The day after!

We would have been so wonderful together. 

My phone has been ringing and dinging all day about this.  I am hurt you didn't call me personally and break the news to me. 




(Thank you, Emily, for breaking it to me gently.)

Sunday, July 1, 2012


I have a well documented love affair with Anderson Cooper.  He's incredibly good looking, intelligent, funny, and generous.  What is not to love?  When I mention this, people undoubtedly look at me, cock their head and say "But isn't he gay?"


I'm sure if he met me, I could convince him to come to my team.

At the end of the school year, we had "Name Day" where you could select a new name for the day.  I selected "Mrs. A. Cooper."  I thought it was very clever until a teacher came up to me and said "Heh...heh.  Alice Cooper.  Funny."  Not Alice, ANDERSON!!!!!

While I am visiting my loving grandmother, she is intent on squashing out any positive self esteem that I might still possess.  This includes regular conversations about my weight, hair, and clothing.  In one breath she is encouraging me to order a heinously bad for you dessert and in the next, she's insulting me.  If I weighed 85 pounds, it wouldn't be thin enough for her.

Of course, she does not think that I should have a crush on Anderson.  Her answer to me? 

"Non-Mommy, you can't be with Anderson Cooper.  He's too small for you!  You need a big man!"

Apparently, his celebrity isn't a problem for her.  The fact that I will never meet him isn't a problem for her.  The rumor that he is gay isn't a problem for her.  No, the problem is that he's too small for me.

Shoot me now.

Was I Right, or Was I Right?

Did I not call this before?  How could Tom Cruise be shocked?  We could see this coming from a mile away!

I am sooo happy.  Sooooo happy.  Not faking it at all.
To quote myself:

Why do celebrities pretend that they are all comfy cozy when they split?  Someday, we'll see a statement from Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes.  And hopefully it goes something like this:

"After a horribly abusive relationship in which I was henpecked and controlled by a remote control, I have decided to leave Tom.  I was tired of his scientology vitamins and how he made me go everywhere with him, even when he had to pee.  We had a horrible fight and I called my lawyer.  Unfortunately, Tom has some maniac control over me and my children and he will keep Suri while I move to the midwest and start a family with another man, pretending like I never had any kids prior to them."
Good luck keeping your kid, Katie!  Call Nicole Kidman if you want any tips on how to keep her.


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