Same-sex marriage

I’m against it. Not for the reason you think.

Same-sex marriage gives gays the same unfair tax breaks that heteros get … at the expense of singles.

Singles usually aren’t gay, but we get fucked up the ass anyway, monetarily. So “empowering” gays is just strengthening discrimination against single people. Gays never mention this inequality, so fuck them.

It’s assumed that straight men and women will always marry and stay married, but, oh gosh, that doesn’t seem to happen. So here is my message to the “discriminated” against gays –

SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOUR POOR, POOR STATUS AS SECOND-CLASS CITIZENS … until you acknowledge that you aren’t the ONLY people getting screwed. You will never get my vote, because you are the very thing you decry — hypocrites.

One Reason to ignore the national TV media

Apparently, a crane collapsed in New York City today … and TWO PEOPLE were killed!!!!! It’s on CNN!!

And apparently, another crane collapsed in NYC recently. And … and … and … there are wildfires in California, and people lose their homes … and … and … and …

Message from FlyOverLand to the pricks that control media — We … Don’t … Give … a … Shit. You don’t give a shit about us, and we don’t give a shit about your trivial “disasters.”

“This is not the Scott we knew”

Hilarious.

The Bush apologists have all closed ranks over the same seven words — “This is not the Scott we knew.”
Apparently, they (Karl Rove, Ari Fleischer, et al) believe Scott McClellan was abducted by aliens and lobotomized. The truth is, a Bushie with a conscience actually listened to it, and now King Georgie and his minions, sans clothes, are running scared. Hence, “This is not the Scott we knew.”
Good for McClellan … although, as usual, this country will probably do nothing about it.

Pissed Off

I’m not even drunk, and yet I’m mad as hell and I ain’t gonna take it anymore. Tonight’s gripes:

1) My computer. I use three different browsers (Internet Explorer, Netscape, and Safari), because they each have advantages, and yet the only damn browser that lets me write this blog without crashing is Safari. That’s why I haven’t been on here much lately.

2) Robert Shapiro. This is actually last night’s gripe, but since WordPress was incommunicado last night, I’ve saved it for now. The smiling jackass Shapiro, savior of O.J. Simpson, is now in TV commercials plugging a cheap service for writing wills. The bastard never mentions the fact that, if people want to save money writing their wills, two pencil-scribbled lines on a goddamned piece of paper magnetized to your refrigerator door are legally acceptable. Example: I Nicole Simpson, being of sound mind, leave all my money to my dog. I leave all my worldly possessions to my neighbor, Agnes. Signed, your pal, Nicole Simpson.

3) Georgie Bush. Will this country ever wake up, impeach him, try him as a war criminal, convict him, castrate him? Apparently not.

4) Sex and the City, which opens this Friday. I know, I know … you should never criticize a flick/TV show you haven’t watched, but from everything I’ve read about it, it preaches the following to American women: It’s OK to be selfish, it’s OK to be a slut. It’s all about YOU baby.

5) Comic-book movies. If I’m going to rant about the chick-flicks, in fairness I have to trash the boy movies. Wait, I already have ….

6) I’ll get back to this. Not drunk enough.

Put the fork in …

Not to pillory Hillary, but this roast is toast. Time for Muslim Man to set his sights on that super-agent of “change,” Mr. McCain. Something tells me that, despite dire predictions to the contrary, Obama might have an easier time in the general election than he did in the primaries. Unless, of course, another Rev. Wright pops up, or is pulled out of a hat by some Karl Rove-ish types.

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Babe-at-work spot of the day: Wonder Woman. Had to chew her out over some work-related triviality. Mmmmm … “chew her out” ….

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Requiem for the Journalists

Years ago, I worked with an elderly woman named Polly Vonetes who, along with her husband Al, spent decades as a network-TV journalist/columnist. She had amassed God-knows-how-many copies of her Hollywood columns, which she stored in file cabinets and valued like the Holy Grail. Every year, Polly would make the California trek to attend network press junkets. Polly would arrange interviews for our staff with whichever star was in this week’s hot show or miniseries.

I wonder what Polly thinks (if she’s still living) of the news from ABC, NBC and CBS today. Their ratings have plummeted, and continue to shrink. Their influence wanes and wanes and wanes, lost to cable and DVDs and computers. Polly’s file cabinets have lost their lustre.

I’m thinking of her because twice in the past week I’ve read local columnists bemoaning days gone by — and I have very little sympathy for either of them.

The first is a sports columnist named Patrick Reusse, who laments the passing of typewriters, Wite-Out, and the traditional newspaper sports department. Reusse fears that the emergence of Internet blogs has usurped “good journalism,” that the great unwashed are now subject to unsubstantiated, ill-informed, flat-out-false reports from any Tom, Dick, or Harry, and that we’ll all be the worse for it.

Reusse is a fool. What he really grieves is the loss of a format — the burly, cigar-chomping editor barking out orders to the cub reporter, who hours later breathlessly phones in the box score from Middleton Junior High’s class AA championship game, all under pressure of deadline. Apparently, Reusse believes that ESPN.com is run by teenage stoners out of their parents’ basements.

What the curmudgeon Reusse fails to grasp is that the intelligence behind good journalism isn’t going anywhere, just the means of delivering it. There will always be a need for good investigative reporting, whether in sports or hard news, but it won’t arrive on our doorsteps all torn-up and peed on by the neighbor’s dog.

I feel a bit more sympathy for the second local columnist, a movie critic named Colin Covert. Here is a man who, no doubt, grew up worshiping cinema, drooling over Fellini and Hitchcock and Kurosawa, only to grow up, get a job at a major newspaper, and spend his days reviewing Spider-Man 12, X-Men 4, Batman 17, Speed Racer, and The Incredible Hulk. Covert can barely contain his disgust over Hollywood’s pandering to the 16-year-old boys among us, but again, he is simply the victim of a change in format.

It’s true that you can’t go to the multiplex and find many adult movies, or films aimed at women, but … 25 years ago, there was no HBO, no History Channel, no Discovery Channel, no Lifetime. You couldn’t open your mailbox and grab NetFlix’s Bette Davis commemorative DVDs, or Ken Burns’s multi-part The War. Again, the intelligence is still there, it just happens to no longer reside at The Roxy or The Paradise.

So, my advice to Reusse: Get a job at ESPN.com. They might even let you smoke cigars.

My advice to Covert: Become your newspaper’s “media” critic, and leave movie reviews to the publisher’s nephew Jimmy.

CILFs

CILFs (Definition: Coworkers I’d Like to Fuck. Although not really. At least, not all of them).

Sometimes I envy the boys downstairs, the ones who work with the printing presses, the ones who get their hands dirty. They have very few female coworkers, and the ones they do have are, well … not likely to grace the pages of Maxim.

But these are guys who envy guys like me, because I work upstairs with the educated “hotties.” The press guys fantasize about the babes in the business suits, the Demi Moores with MBAs who, if you believe the commercials, fantasize about blue-collar boys like that shirtless, sweating hunk in the infamous Coke commercial.

But here’s my message for you, sweat-boys: That cutie-pie Hispanic girl, the young one with no high-school diploma but a Levis-lustable ass? Sure, she’s not bright enough to talk her way out of a paper sack, but I tell you what — I’ll bet you anything she is one HELLUVA lot less trouble — psychically and emotionally — than those Gucci-loving sirens who work upstairs.

So what do I, the lucky schmuck who actually gets to work with these goddesses, think of them? Despite what I might have just implied, they aren’t all bad, really they’re not. But some are definitely, infinitely, incredibly high maintenance. Some impressions (initials are substituted for real names, in the unlikely event anyone I know ever reads this):

J.W. — So pretty. So sexy. Anyone see the season of TV’s Big Brother that featured Dani, Evil Dick’s daughter? J.W. looks a lot like her. Not only is she physically gifted, but she … knows … how … to … dress. This girl, in her early 30s, actually wears dresses(!) from time to time. Classy dresses. In dresses or in black-leather pants, she always looks like a million bucks.
Downside: Hard to talk to. I can pretty much talk to any woman, pretty or not, but damn, I struggle with her. And it’s not just me; I’ve heard the “diva” comments from others. If she could just lighten up …
Body parts: Face and butt are spectacular. Small boobs, but I like small boobs.

Dating prognosis: She would have to take the initiative. I’ve tried, believe me, I’ve tried.

S.S. — Wonder Woman. Works with J.W., but she’s brunette, not blonde. Wonder Woman has the most spectacularly beautiful face of any woman I’ve ever — ever — worked with. It’s probably a moral failing of fiction writers that they always include the “beautiful” woman in their novels, but whenever they do, I always picture Wonder Woman in the role of that unattainable beauty. The real S.S. once told me that she and I were “meant to be,” quite possibly joking, but I don’t care. The problem is the …
Downside: Too damn many. Married. Two kids. Affair (possibly ongoing) with a married jerk at work. Sigh.
Body parts: Face is unsurpassed, and a woman’s face is always her most important physical asset. All her other body parts are fine, just fine.

Dating Prognosis: Unless her hubbie dies in a plane crash, am afraid it’s limited to happy hours.

P.M. — Sometimes I think that, personality-wise, P.M. would be the best match for me. She actually reads books (a rare thing, even for “upstairs” women), thinks like a nerd (nothing wrong with that), likes movies, football … and in general debunks my “high-maintenace” stereotype for the second-floor females. She’s even lost weight recently; yes, she needed to. Alas, this “nice” girl has her (or my)
Downsides: A nerd is a nerd is a nerd. Not her fault. I am the jackass. But I simply cannot get turned on by a woman who laughs like a horse, spits when she is laughing, inadvertently farts in my office, is not very physically attractive, etc. OK I am shallow; I admit it. Just shoot me, but don’t put me in bed with P.M.

Body parts: Her ass. Not perfect, but it’s cool to see a fat butt shrink, and shrink, and shrink while she diets.

Dating Prognosis: I could take the initiative. But not likely.

(to be continued)

Goddamn America!!

Maybe that fool Rev. Wright is right. Although, of course, for the wrong reasons. The Redd Foxx-wannabe was damning!! this country for its shortcomings, but in one sense he wasn’t all that off-base.

We don’t want “the truth” out of our politicians, as we prove over and over and over again, because in the immortal words of Jack Nicholson (A Few Good Men), we “can’t handle the truth!”

Cases in point: Hillary Clinton points out that Obama is having a tough time nailing down the white, working-class vote (true), and for that she is vilified for “playing the race card.” Obama tells people that the aforementioned Rev. Wright is like an oddball “uncle” one must tolerate, and for that (probable) truism Obama is crucified unless he agrees to toss the madman to the sharks. McCain actually displays a mild sense of humor (“Bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran”) and he is painted as a dangerous zealot.

Bottom line: Americans and the media sit back passively and let the lunatics on the right and on the left dictate our elections, and so we get what we deserve (anyone wanna have a beer with George Bush? He’s just a good ol’ boy like us, right?).

First Drunk Post

Random babblings ….

Women are no better or worse than men … I used to think they were better ….

                                                        *****

“The Greatest Generation” probably was, but only because of circumstances … Baby Boomers have done more harm than good in this world, but only because they were spoiled by “The Greatest Generation” ….

                                                        *****

None of this matters, because mankind is probably on a self-destructive, fate-dictated collision course with Armageddon … and no fresh-faced baby named Obama can stop it … only delay it …

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Did the ancient Greeks worship female (and male) beauty like we do? Because if they did, it’s pointless to blame Hollywood and Voguemagazine for our youth-obsessed, sex-addicted society; it’s always been here. And I think it’s probably the greatest curse mankind has. Now let me go download some more Emma Watson upskirts ….

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All “stupid men” jokes and “dumb blonde” jokes aside, neither sex is smarter than the other; we’ve both managed to make it this far.

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Who deserves the presidency more, women or black men? Black men. And here is why:  Some — of course not all — but some white women have always enjoyed privilege, from Cleopatra (was she white?) to Hillary Clinton. Rich white women are everywhere in America, and they always have been. Not so with blacks, male or female. They are, as a class, more oppressed. So you go girl, Barack.

                                                        *****

Hugh Hefner has probably done more to screw up my life than any other person, by teaching me, back in the late 60s, that “cool” and hot babes mean more than anything else. I wonder who is the 2008 equivalent of Hefner … still Hefner?

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I have a male ego, so I can’t be sure, but I suspect there are two women where I work — both of whom were “chunky” – who lost enormous amounts of weight in order to, at least in part, impress me. I am impressed, but guess what? The female face is still the most important aspect, and you don’t turn me on, girls.

                                                        *****

In terms of Karma, I am 50 now, so those two women (in their 30s) will get the last laugh, no doubt.

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This blog is silly, but then sometimes I think, so are the Koran, Torah, Bible … if we are all just animals, and there is no God (at least, not a religious one), then isn’t my silly blog just as profound as those books? Pretty good cosmic joke, thinking that in the not-so-distant future, Shakespeare’s works will be read by the same eyes as this blog — namely, by no one.

                                                        *****

Harry Potter books — ain’t they great? When I was a kid, I wanted to be invisible so that I could go into girls’ bathrooms and watch them naked (hell, who am I kidding — still do). But damn, I think if we could all see/hear/read/sense what other people think and said, we would go insane. The dark side of humanity would win out, big time, over any Mother Teresa comments we might overhear.

                                                        *****

I can’t find a woman I like who is also good looking. They don’t seem to exist. My curse, I suppose.

You Go Girl

OK, pending some overwhelming persuasion to the contrary, and having witnessed tonight’s North Carolina/Indiana results … I believe Hillary needs to go. I loved the Clintons’ 1990s reign, but now it appears to be too much about ego. Hillary … you go girl, go away, and the faster, the better.