Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Headline News: Iran's Ahmadinejad demands U.S. apology.

For this?

I mean, I agree it's offensive, but why should the United States have to apologize?

Update: Sorry. I just read beyond the title of the
news article. Please disregard the above.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009


Bye bye Bushie Boy! Forever and ever and ever and ever... (Well, until Barbara and Jenna are of age.)

Monday, January 19, 2009

Harry, you're still wrong.

In “breaking” news, scientists have discovered that wealthy men give women more orgasms.

Uhhhh… Correction: The bigger a man’s bank account is, the likelier a woman is more willing to fake the orgasm.

Just ask Sally:

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Marie Barone is my Mother

In a move that reeks of ulterior motives, my mother has announced that she’s headed to New York city for an impromptu visit with my sister and me. Her inconsideration in giving us less than a six-month warning (how selfish!) necessitates some emergency housekeeping:

Oogie and Me’s To-Do List:

  • Stash of pot
  • Toys
  • Art pieces that may not be considered art so much as pornography in Mother’s social circles
  • Photographs of lovers (past, present and future) that are definitely not Mother-approved (read: Nigerian, Igbo, hand-picked by Mother)
  • Needles

-Find and locate a church ASAP since mother would like to go on Sunday.

-Bribe priest to corroborate our months of lies that we are devout church goers.

-On a related note: Locate our bibles and place in highly visible spot in bedroom.

-Dismantle stripper pole in bedroom.

-Delete web browsing history prior to mother’s use of computers.

-Purchase curtains for apartment. Mother may not find it as cute as my sister does that our elderly neighbor has been ailing a bit less since our “inadvertent” daily peep shows.

-Hide the housekeeper's number since the last thing we need is to be subjected to an interminable lecture on how we are doomed to be spinsters with 40 or so cats since we don't know what it's like to be "womanly".

-Buy Furniture.

Then again, I could follow Me’s suggestion and just put Mother up in a hotel.

Me on a Milk Carton

Verbatim, one of the funniest emails I've received from a friend:


My name is L. I am writing to check on my friend Me. Perhaps you have seen her.
She has a fabulous bag draped around her shoulders, a ridiculous pair of heels on her feet, NY bar exam materials in her right hand and either a shank or a blackberry in her left.

When you see her, tell her I am looking for her. I want to make sure she is ok. The last we spoke she mumbled something about blowing up the NY Board of Examiners, and I want to make sure she does not do anything irrational.

She may have jetted off to Cali to see her friend, but I doubt that as she probably has spent her last $600 shopping at Theory.

When you approach her be gentle, as she is liable to snap due to her current state of mind. Approach her with a soft voice, a chill glass of wine and tell her that there is someone who cares. Then quickly walk away while looking over your shoulders - she is slightly uncontrollable.


It's REALLY the end.

I mean if Google is doing it, what hope do the rest of the commoners have?

Thursday, January 15, 2009

In Breaking News

...Bank of America Requests More Bailout Funds from Congress.

Sorry, wrong picture. But still.

Friday, January 9, 2009

The Burris Oracle

Call me pessimistic or what you may, but I strongly believe that the Roland Burris fiasco is a foreshadowing of the incoming democratic congress, which shall be a repeat of the current democratic congress.

With today’s crop of sitting democrats, I have learned to associate congressional democrats as dogs with barks a million times worse than their bite- if they bite at all. In the last couple of years, congressional democrats have done very little other than bluster and threaten, only to cave in the end to republican demands, no matter how outlandish.

However, Obama wins the presidency and everyone proclaims that his win is the dawn of a new era and like millions of Americans, I hope. Then in comes the Blagojevich/Burris debacle and that flicker of hope begins to die. But wait, here are the democrats, including our President-elect, insisting and threatening that Burris will not be seated. Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid standing firm on his ground, refusing to waver, and Bobby Rush laughably screaming racism. Hope dawns with the comical yet heartbreaking image of Burris huddling in the rain outside the senate steps. I wonder, did the democrats finally grow a backbone to stand by their proclamations to prevent this undoubtedly tainted nomination of Burris- a nomination hanging heavy with the knowledge that Burris paid-to-play (as I choose to infer from the exposed perjury in his testimony to the Illinois state senate and as common sense demands- Blagojevich is NOT nominating anyone for Obama’s senate seat without some “palm glistening”)? We know- it is unconstitutional to refuse to seat Burris. But stall; you are politicians and you (should) know the system. So find a way to delay till the Blagojevich impeachment is handed down.

Alas, it is the oldest story ever told. From a stance of "never will it happen" (and one "over my dead body" muttered), the hesitations begin, the hems and haws, they begin to back down, they say they're not sure, they say maybe, they say likely, and oh wait! He's being seated

Yes, the oldest story ever told, and quite simply, more of the same. Welcome to another four years of republican domination.

A pessimist.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

You're just a virgin who "can" drive

While stuck in O’Hare airport for a seemingly interminable layover, I found myself reading a Chicago Sun Times article on secret virgins, a.k.a people (mostly males) in their 20s or older who choose to remain virgins. Some priceless gems from the article:

I’m a forty-something male virgin, and I intend to remain that way [Me: Like you had a choice]. I never felt the need for a girlfriend and the responsibility that comes with a committed relationship. I also don’t like the idea of sharing a bed, let alone bodily fluids. Masturbation keeps me single, disease-free, independent, and satisfied.

Wow. Like, wow. I love his statement that he hates having to share a bed. No wonder he doesn’t like sex, he’s a child! I’d ordinarily have preferred to call him asexual, but do asexual people even masturbate? (Hm, must research). Gay maybe? Or just a germaphobe? The thing is, I don’t even feel like this guy has some “condition” to warrant our sympathy. From the obnoxious tone of his post I’m convinced he just has sex with himself because he’s pompous enough to think it can’t get any better than that. Wow.

And then, of course, the obligatory post from a "Saving myself" chick:

I’m a virgin and proud of it. I have chosen to keep myself pure for my husband and the marriage bed. If more people would wait, the rate of sexually transmitted diseases would go down dramatically. When you sleep with a person, you also sleep with everyone that person has slept with. It’s not shameful to be a virgin—it’s a blessing.

Look, I have ordinarily nothing against virgins; I, after all, used to be one (overused joke, sorry, couldn’t resist). My problem is with the logic, or really nonsense that usually goes with a "Saving myself" chick's usual reason for being a virgin. Hon, what makes you think when you get around to getting this husband and being all pure and clean for him, that he’d be the same? What do you do in the very likely scenario of this not being the case? Kill yourself? Him? Because you know, once you lose your virginity (gasp!) that’s it! You can’t get it back! It’s like, gone! Like, your life is over!

No words.

Friday, January 2, 2009

Understanding the Beast

Bestiality is something that I rank side by side with pedophilia/ child rape as one of the most (if not the most) atrocious acts that humans are capable of committing. Recently, I was confronted with what could be my own prejudices during a conversation with a friend about Bestiality. Somehow, before I realized what was happening, I was defending my stance against a "sexual" act that's just gross on so many levels... an assessment reached, of course, in my undoubtedly non-judgmental, enlightened, objective and fair-minded manner :-) (*lightning).

"But it's gross" I insisted to A, who asks, "Why is it gross?"
"It just is."
"I mean if the animal is consenting..."
"But A, that's just the problem, the animal is not consenting."
"How do you know this?"
"Well, if you have a woman who spreads her legs, and entices a dog with-"
"Peanut butter" I interject.
"-Uh yeah, peanut butter, and the dog acts, then isn't the dog acting on its own free will?"
"I don't know."
"I mean, a man with a sheep, that's obviously not consent b/c there is an actual invasion there."
"Seriously A? Are we reeeeally having this conversation before breakfast?"
"Then why are you so against it?"
"Because it. is. just. gross."
"That's actually very judgmental of you. I mean, it's a sex act so to each their own. You are giving the same silly reasoning people give when attacking gays. It's just gross, etc. etc."

A is right. My reasons for finding bestiality abhorrent are quite similar to the more popular insipid arguments against homosexuality- that it's just gross. I have frequently unleashed my wrath against the same arguments, but am I suddenly in the wrong for finding bestiality just wrong? Do I actually need a better argument other than "disgusting" and "lack of consent"? Or am I similar to those that have fought against homosexuality for so long on what I completely consider baseless reasoning that should be more appropriately attributed to human close-mindedness and idiocy?

Your thoughts (and much better arguments) are appreciated.

P.s., no religious mumbo jumbo.

The Insanity Report's Roundup

For an honestly good chuckle, the Insanity Report's Third Annual End of the Year WTF Awards may be the funniest end-of-year roundup I have yet to read.

Besides how on-point the author's political commentary is, I prefer to draw your attention to his pop-culture roundup. Take his commentary on the absolute (and I do mean absolute) overratedness of Angelina Jolie (You know, Ms. Angelina- "I used to hang a vial of my husband's blood around my neck but by adopting some children from countries accessible only by camel and a two-mile swim through alligator-infested waters, I am now canonized"- Jolie): "Her ass is non-existent. Need to put it up on the back of a milk carton ("Have You seen this ass? Call 1-800-LNG-BACK) Last Seen…NEVER" (Brilliant)...

Or how about his "Slut of the Year award"- Bristol Palin? Oh and please don't forget to read his comments on the queen of the "overrateds"- Ms. Beyonce Knowles. My Beyonce-hating self rejoiced that someone besides my sister and me recognized that the whole Sasha Fierce thing would be called s-c-h-i-z-o-p-h-r-e-n-i-a by any self-respecting psychiatrist.

Anyway, go forth, read and be amused. (For some of you it will be the only news you'd have ingested all year.)