Friday, June 29, 2007

'The Bachelor' Producers Hit With Herpes Dilemma

The producers of reality TV show "The Bachelor" have been floored by the amount of pretty women who don't get to woo series hunks -- because they have herpes.

A new report reveals a substantial number of single stunners were turned away from the most recent show's auditions after testing positive for herpes and other communicable diseases.

A show insider tells the National Enquirer, "Some of the best looking women have been told recently that they didn't pass the medical portion of the test due to herpes."

The most recent Bachelor was U.S. Navy Lieutenant Andy Baldwin.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

This is the winery we visited while on our mini-holiday... this link is to the owner's "newsletter," which he would probably be appalled to learn qualifies as a blog. :-)
Because I think Angelina Jolie's a big-lipped homewrecker and because I despise the making of a movie about a journalist who got his head chopped off:

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

So I admit it -- I've just caught the last 10 minutes of Paris Hilton on Larry King Live (and now Anderson Cooper is doing a recap as I type this). I feel sort of ashamed of myself for watching this. I consider Paris pretty much the biggest fake walking this planet, she's really Antichrist material as far as I'm concerned. I shouldn't be supporting the media's incessant coverage of her every move. But I can't stop!! It's completely absurd. I mean, Larry King literally just said something like, "That's a wrap for tonight with Paris Hilton. Tomorrow, Colin Powell." Um. Paris Hilton one night and Colin Powell the next?? Are you F-ing kidding me? There are even stories about the stories about Paris Hilton. Even stories about the people who AREN'T doing stories on Paris Hilton. US Weekly, for instance, opted to NOT put her on the cover this Friday, which is pretty much unheard of. What would get her back on the cover (some hard-hitting reporter asked)? If she were to get pregnant, they say.
God forbid that demon spawn a child.

So moving right along, Brendan and I returned yesterday from our little family vacay in Lewiston (excuse me, they are replaying footage of Paris running happily in stilettos from her prison cell into the waiting arms of her mother. VOMIT!). My parents had brought along their friend Karen, who just lost her husband to cancer in March and her two kids, ages 5 and 7. These kids are freaking adorable and hilarious. At one point Brendan asks the five year old if he needs to go potty because he's holding onto his junk, and he says no, he's fine. So his brother explains loudly that he's "always touching his penis!" And saying PENIS in the way that only a young child can really say it, with perfect clarity and volume, to make sure you understand he is saying PENIS and not something else. After that it was all over. The 7 year old declared it was time to play "Whoever gets hit in the privates is OUT." So a lot of socking each other in the privates with a Curious George doll ensued (it's a lot funnier than it sounds) except that no one was ever actually out and everyone continued to get hit in the privates until the kids tired of it.
The next day they declared it was time to play "Runaway Kid," which they'd renamed from the original version, which was called "Runaway Slave." They'd apparently had a school play about a runaway slave, hence the game. Their mom thought it best if they say "kid" in public rather than "slave."
So to bring this thing full circle, someone Anderson Cooper is interviewing just accused him of not liking Paris and he stammers, well, I don't know... I just don't... I just don't understand her! Thank you. My sentiments exactly.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Brendan and I were just enjoying a relaxing afternoon sipping coffee in Starbucks about half an hour ago when we had a run-in with El Disturbo. It went like this... We saw a few young girls, between 12 and 15 years old, standing across the street in shorts and tank tops and remarked to each other that we dread the day we have daughters and older men are sitting around drooling at them lecherously. Then lo and behold, a guy sitting outside who'd seemed to have been talking on his cell phone and chain smoking for the last half hour took out his phone and snapped a couple of pictures of the girls as they crossed the street. He looked behind himself and straight into my eyes, undoubtedly catching the incredulous look on my face. I looked away and said to Brendan, "That creepy guy just took photos of those girls." He says, "Really?" I said, "Yeah," and then looked back in time to catch him snapping more photos of them walking away. He looked at me again, this time no doubt catching the look of disgust on my face. Thoroughly creeped out, we left the Starbucks, walking behind it in order to avoid El Disturbo and wondering what we should have done. It's certainly not illegal to take photos of people on the street, but this guy was obviously a disgusting piece of crap who's taking pictures of young girls dressed down for the warm weather and then probably going home and entertaining himself further over those same pictures. Do you say something to the guy? A man audacious enough to take such photos is, perhaps, not someone you want to approach and admonish. We came home and I looked on the Megan's Law website. A man who looked like El Disturbo was on the site, but I can't be sure it was him. Maybe the only good I can do in this situation is to tell other people about it so they're aware of this possibility when it comes to their children.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

What is this world coming to when a person with an MFA in Nonfiction Creative Writing is applying for a temporary position as my administrative assistant?
I am reviewing her resume, open-mouthed. This is a person who wrote a book for her thesis. A whole book!
This is a person who graduated magna cum laude with a major in English and says she is proficient in AP, APA, MLA and Chicago editing styles and knows every layout/design software that a copy editor could ever hope to know.
I am baffled.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Let's just declare this The Week of The Vagina, since I seem to be hearing a lot about The Vagina this week and (I'm sorry men, I'm warning you now to stop reading), I've just started my period. And yes, I know I blog about my period too often, probably, but I just can't help myself. It's there, it's red, it's a mess, I'm cramping, and another pair of underwear bites the dust. So anyway, the cramping. It's always bad the first couple of days, so I jaunted on over to our First Aid kid here in the office and lo and behold! There's this stuff in there called PreMenstrual Formula, PMF for short, which I found to be really, really funny for some reason. And then I opened the packet and the pills are pink, which I thought was even funnier. :-)

Monday, June 18, 2007

Sherbet should really be spelled sherbert, don't you think?
Also, maudlin is a cool word. I just figured out that I thought the definition was something it is not. Here's what it really means, according to Merriam Webster:

1 : drunk enough to be emotionally silly. 2 : weakly and effusively sentimental
This is a nice little article for those of us who couldn't stay in our dream careers:

Friday, June 15, 2007

This is great, for us wannabe homeowners. And for those who actually own homes.
Last night was quite warm so we slept with the window open. Then at around 5 a.m. we awoke to the disturbing sound of someone retching violently. And loudly. It was really weird.