Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Congratulations, and I will take it very personally if the two of you divorce in my lifetime. And my children's.
Dorothy: Blanche is certainly taking her sister’s novel better than I would. I would kill my sister Gloria if she ever wrote about my sex life.
Sophia: You would kill your sister over a pamphlet?
I’ve watched this episode a million times, but that line, delivered with Sophia’s trademark deadpan, never ceases to make me laugh… and laugh… and laugh.
Monday, July 28, 2008
I’m really sorry. Recently, to win a very heated argument with a guy friend, I broke down and cried. It wasn’t the intention when I started crying (frankly he hurt my feelings), but it worked. I know it’s wrong, because it sets back womanism or something. So like, my bad. Won't happen again.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
So The View’s Sherri Shepard went on record this week saying that she’s “had more abortions than [she] would like to count.” (I’m pro-abortion, but dang chick…) So on yesterday’s The View, Sherri discussed her statements and also said that she shall see the fetuses in heaven where they would call her mama.
I don’t know about you, but while watching that clip, only one thought went through my head:
Hee hee- I make me laugh.
Dear four readers out there,
We have consistently shown snottiness towards other people who were a tad too fanatical with the SATC love. However, it appears we are such people as well. Example, a recent convo with Me regarding a slightly overbearing friend:
Me: He’s a tad much. I feel I must break up with him.
oogie: Haha, break up with a friend. Picture Carrie now, typing on her laptop, “In this day and age of opposite-sex friendships, is there such a thing as breaking up with a friend?”
Me: [pause] Did you just pull a “So Carrie!”?
oogie: Holy shit.
Me: I’m not talking to you anymore.
Oops. Me, I’m really really sorry.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Up until recently, Anne Hathaway was the sort of actress that I assumed inspired nothing but lukewarm reactions, if not outright indifference. In fact, in connection with her career, I always drew images of an elderly couple sitting at home on a Sunday evening, the husband channel-surfing, and pausing to ask his wife, “Who’s that?” The wife will raise her eyes above her reading glasses, briefly scrutinize the television screen, and then say, “Oh that’s that Hatha-something girl.” And then she’ll lower her eyes back to her newspaper to continue reading about the rising price of corn.
But somewhere along the way, I grew to admit that I really like her.
Is it her pale creamy skin that has me enchanted? Perhaps. Although she would be the first translucently hued person who did not have me itching to chase after them with bottled U-V rays and a half-off coupon from Sunset Tan.
Or perhaps it is the effect of those dark doe-eyes and full red lips set against the milky-white of her skin?
Or perhaps her stubborn brunette-ness amid a sea of crispy burnt bottle-blonds?
Perhaps it is her ability to hold her own against the best and brightest of
Or that she was actually believable as an ass-kicking secret agent opposite Steve Carrell in Get Smart? This is of course when juxtaposed against other leading female ass-kickers- i.e., the torturous Charlie’s Angels movies where two of movie land’s most overrated actresses and Lucy Liu giggled their way through fight scenes where if you stared really hard, you could see the ropes and strings lifting them through each scene.
Or perhaps it was that I enjoyed her movies, with only the mildest stirrings of jealousy, where her lips got to kiss lips that the curse of fate has determined that I shall never get to kiss? By this I give you Adrian Grenier in The Devil Wears Prada (before his “look” went from “grunge sexy” to just “homeless and miles from the Y”). Or the ultimate, kissing my obsession (and Oogie’s too)- James McAvoy, in Becoming Jane. I actually cheered for her (instead of plotting her death) and hoped the Becoming Jane lovers would make it. Because who but Jane Austen herself deserved McAvoy?
I guess I do not know why I love Hathaway. Oogie definitely is stumped. But alas, I do, I do, I do, I do, I do.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
In yet another act of idiocy, which seems to be the running theme of Baby Bush’s presidency, a Bush administration memo reveals the plan to broadly redefine abortion to include birth control pills. Anything, and I mean anything, to make sure that we women have less rights than those accorded to vermin.
But to shock all four of my readers out there, I don’t disapprove. In fact, we should take a step back and define an abortion to include each time any male masturbates and ejaculates outside of an egg’s presence.
I’m making no sense? Well let’s just be practical about this. I mean, birth control prevents only one egg from being fertilized. But with each ejaculation, there are at least 40 million potential babies killed.
Bush has extended his pro-life agenda to include the rights of the potentially conceived. I say we help with his cause and actively crusade to hold each and every culpable male accountable. Because if we do not curb these serial killers, civilization as we know it will be destroyed.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
I am officially voting Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl” as the most annoying song in
Well, reality check to these adoring reviewers and fans, it is not 1999. In fact, it’s 2008 and most straight girls I know have kissed girls and liked it. Do you know why most of us liked it? It’s because in the end it’s just like kissing a guy.
To be more in tune with 2005 (hell, maybe 2006) and truly groundbreaking, Katy Perry should write a song where she croons, “A girl went down on me and I liked it.” Then I’ll definitely sit up and take notice.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
After reading this op-ed piece which harps upon the possibility that
I’ll be the first to say that Obama isn’t perfect (Edwards, Kucinich, come back!!) and yes, his FISA vote yesterday does not help things. But my dear, put down the absinthe and just. stop.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Today, my friend tells me that a director at her 2-year old daughter’s exclusive private nursery school said that her daughter was accepted at the school because she’s black.
“WHAT?!” I respond. “Affirmative Action for babies?!”
I guess if the school wanted to be truly cutting-edge, they could get them earlier:
For a lot of young females, www.jezebel.com stands as the latest guidebook for a new wave of feminism. While reading www.huffingtonpost.com (a.k.a. my political mecca), I came across the interview that Moe Tkacik and Tracie Egan, two of Jezebel’s contributors, did with Lizz Winstead on Winstead’s Thinking and Drinking show. During the interview, an allegedly (and honestly, apparently) drunk Moe and Tracie proceeded to respond to some rather sensitive and serious matters in a manner that left me shocked, embarrassed, disappointed, and worried about the idolizing generation who consider these girls to be “feminist” role models.
In response to a discussion as to why she’s never been raped, Tracie said:
“I don’t hang around frat guys.”
“I think it has to do with the fact that I am like, smart”
Other comments from Moe and Tracie include:
“It's really hard to prosecute [rapists], so you should try to avoid them at all costs.”
“The thing about the rapists of our generation, is that they all use drugs, they all have some sort of drug they use on you, so it's good to feel, and I don't know if this has happed to me or if I just drink too much.”
Before I proceed with yet another tirade, caveat: the ladies of Jezebel do not necessarily want to be viewed as heroes or role models. Rather, they just want the freedom to express their viewpoints devoid of censorship. Further, Moe and Tracie probably signed onto Thinking and Drinking under the assumption that the show was going to be light-hearted and comedic- no heavy artillery allowed. Perhaps Moe and Tracy were just mouthing off outlandishly and engaging in shock comedy in an attempt to make the audience “think?” And before I’m attacked, I read Jezebel frequently enough to be well aware that the ladies often engage in social commentary while using a rather sordid and tongue-in-cheek sense of humor.
However, I must say that after watching (rather than reading) Moe’s and Tracie’s opinions, their attempts at social commentary failed and were just simply in poor taste. On the subject of rape, is some sensibility too much to ask? Moe shrugs off and seemingly excuses her rape to say that while she was angry at her rapist (and who still happens to be her friend), she didn’t report the rape because “it was a load of trouble and I had better things to do, like drinking more.” While it is one’s right not to report one’s rape, the indifference and the rather blasé delivery of such comments were demeaning and arguably disempowering for the majority of rape victims out there for whom just coping daily after such violence is a momentous task and damn near impossible.
I am choosing to be judgmental because I believe that when one is thrust (or thrusts oneself) into a public arena where they have the power to influence an audience or be that audience’s only source of information on a particular topic, a certain responsibility is conferred. Like it or not Moe and Tracie, you have become role models. There are very young and impressionable girls who read Jezebel and who actually take to heart what you say. Not everyone can make the educated leap from “I won’t get raped if I’m smart” to “oh, they’re just being wise-asses.”
I think these girls spoke carelessly and thoughtlessly but I will not go as far as some commenters to accuse them of single-handledly destroying the feminist movement. Simply because there isn’t an easy answer to define feminism. Perhaps feminism is on the same wavelength as Moe and Tracie and it is about being unapologetic for one’s actions and feelings. Then again, perhaps it is not. But I do firmly believe that the fundamental principle should be female empowerment and ensuring equality between the sexes. Moe and Tracie, feminism is not quite there yet. Think carefully next time because an individual act does not just demean the individual, it demeans us all.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Days from now, you will realize the pressure is finally off. How could anyone expect you to always outperform a younger, more athletic player? And if it’s any comfort, you’re still the best tennis player ever, in my humble opinion. And now, I hope you can enjoy tennis for what it is, without worrying about records and streaks and Nadal, your achilles heel.*
I am very much aware that this sounds like double talk, when you replace tennis with sex. It was not intentional.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Watching some nineties film the other day, I come across some scene with the Twin Towers and it occurs to me, "holy crap, they still haven't rebuilt it!" Going seven years now, people!
Forget nabbing the somehow ever elusive Bin Laden, or the war on terror that stretches into a new country every six months or so (Next up, Canada). But can we get the Freedom Towers up and running already? Frankly, that the towers are yet to be resurrected is of staggering significance. I hate to say this, but maybe Trump had it right about 3 years ago when he suggested scrapping the current design with its bells and whistles and just going for the original design—which was a magnificent structure anyway—and making it a little taller. Because this is just embarassing.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
I like Olympic trials, specifically track and field. Here you get to see very very handsome men, and during replays you can see in slow motion incredible physiques, eight-pack abs and muscled thighs rippling in motion. Oh and their tight...well see, it doesn't matter anyway because it's the inside that counts, right? Take Tyson Gay for instance. His inside is very pretty. It's not about his magnificent, perfect, proof-that-God-exists outside, because that's superficial. And superficiality is like superficially wrong.
And for solely gratuitous reasons, here's a picture of William Gilbert from The Real World Hollywood, a show my pride will not let me watch, other than occasional snippets caught while channel surfing.
Will is a beautiful, beautiful man. Problem is, however, he knows this. It is written in his every seemingly calculated movement and action. He is taunting