'Scuse me while I kiss this guy...

Nope, I'm not going to write about misheard lyrics (at least not today!) or Jimi Hendrix songs.

I'm going to discuss rainbows and why I want them returned to all of the people of the world.

Rainbows are colorful, fun, enjoyable symbols of happiness. Rainbows make us think of childrens' toys, Olympic rings and Lucky Charms. Come on, Pink Hearts, Orange Stars, Yellow Moons, Green Clovers, Blue Diamonds.... and Purple Horseshoes!

In the 1970', however, a crime was committed. The gay community took the rainbow.

A sidenote that needs not be made to anyone that's known me for more than five minutes: gays are 100% equal to all other people on Earth and deserve every single thing straights have available to them.

Having said that, the same goes for non-gays. WE deserve the rainbow too.

I want it back and I want it back right now.

What, you think you get to just come in and claim a meteorological phenomenon for your own? You can't just march in like Neil Armstrong and stick a rainbow flag down and say "mine", what the hell is that about?

You know what? The Sun. It's mine. I want it. It's my symbol and from here on out, all uses of the Sun will be a symbol of the wonderfulness that is Kim. Done.

What? I can't have the sun? Why? It's there, I like it, and I want it. It is going to symbolize me and everyone will call me Sunshine from now on, because that's ME. I'm a SUNNY person.

Ok, nevermind... I see the flaw.

Forget the sun. I will take the gray raincloud.

You see my point? You can't just claim a random weather occurance as your own.

I like rainbows. You know what happened when I created a line of rainbow hay bales in Farmville? I got an invitation to a facebook group for GLBT members.

Again, I have no problem with the GLBT groups - all the love in the world to them... but now I can't even arrange cartoon hay bales into a happy design without people making assumptions about me. Now I know how black guys feel when they hear car doors lock as they walk down the street.

So, no, sorry, you can't have the rainbow. Pick something else. What about that purple triangle business? You all still doing that? You can have that. I don't care much for triangles. They have three sides, which is not an even number, so I haven't much use for that. And purple is a great color but I'm willing to live without it if the gay community absolutely needs to have their own color.

But that's the thing... you get ONE color. The Irish have green and are happy with that. You don't get to come in and take ALL the colors. What the hell?

So get together, pick one color... choose a shape as well, if you must, and give the rest of them back, you greedy-asses.

Thanks.

17 Days of Addiction - A Midwestern Girl's Story

It's an addiction worse than alcohol, cigarettes, crack or Chipotle.

It's the Winter Olympics.

I LOVE the Winter Olympics. It started with the '88 games in Calgary. We did Olympic themed projects in class. We had to pick a piece of paper out of a dish or a box or something - each piece of paper had a different type of project noted on it. The one I chose turned out to be a diorama.

We were allowed our own choice of Olympic topic. I chose, for some reason, Alpine skiing. In the end, my diorama really sucked. If I remember right, I had to supply an accompanying report about Alpine skiing. I'm sure the report is probably what saved my grade, because the diorama was an absolute piece of crap. But for a 6th grader, I guess it was passable. I had a papier mache skier with popsicle stick skis, cruising down a cottonball mountain inside one half of a shirtbox.

Guess what? Papier mache is heavier than cotton. I don't recall what, precisely, I did to fix it, but eventually the skier was gerry-rigged into a manageable position, at least enough to transport it to school.

And that was what sparked my Olympic fever.

As I write, I'm looking at www.nbcolympics.com - this is going in my favorites immediately.

The only other time I get this nuts about sports and tv schedules is at NHL Playoff time. But this is worse... this takes much more attention. This is 17 straight days of events that isn't going to happen for another 4 years.

This is also Apolo Ohno's last Olympic competition. As it is I'm missing his first races tomorrow... can't let that happen for the rest of the games. Speed skating used to bore me. With the Salt Lake and Turin games, I watched it anyway, and MAN that is some wild stuff. I like when they crash!! I mean... I like when the skaters from the other countries crash. Into each other, into the wall, into Olympic officials, into a crowd - don't care, it's awesome!! (as long as no one gets seriously hurt, of course)

Skiing... more crashing. Can't miss a minute!

Figure skating... I never miss this. Apart from the crashing (I can't help it... if it isn't the US skaters, I laugh when they fall down. You do too, ADMIT IT!), I really enjoy the figure skating events, especially the pairs. I'm jealous! I wish I could do that. I spent my childhood outside popping rolls of caps with a rock because my very gender-specific mother would not allow me to have a cap gun. Not because it was a gun - but because it was a "boy's toy". I could go off on a SERIOUS rant here, but I'll save it for another blog. Anyway, while I was playing pretend-cap gun with rocks, other children were learning to figure skate. Those children grew up with a skill (or a developed talent, whichever way you want to look at it). I grew up to watch them on TV, green with envy.

In my defense though, no one ever told me I couldn't get on a Wheaties box by being talented at firing off caps without a cap gun. And so far, Olympic Playing In The Dirt and Olympic Write Your Name on the Sidewalk with A Stick and A Lightning Bug have not been added to the event list. Fingers crossed for 2014, though!!

Snowboarding - one of the newer events. I like it. Those tricks they can do... amazing. One thing is a little unsettling about this year's Snowboarding events though... Shaun White is back. Don't get me wrong, he's good, and fun to watch... but I'm glad those snowboarders wear all that gear on their heads because that Shaun White is getting tougher and tougher to look at. Cute little kid he was... now he looks like Carrot Top and Rocky Dennis had a baby.

(My apologies to the late Rocky Dennis for that comment - I'm referring to the Eric Stoltz version from the movie, which was far exaggerated from the real Rocky.

No apologies to to Carrot Top.)

The Luge! When I was a kid I thought this was the coolest thing ever and I wanted to do it so badly! Just once! Now... it's still pretty cool, but I think I'd freak out if I was actually on one of those things speeding through an ice chute. Plus, I'm in no mood to have to work out my ass muscles - excuse me - I mean glutes - so I could control the thing. Isn't that how they do it? Weight shifting and whatnot? I should look this up, lest I appear that I don't know what I'm talking about.

Second thought... nah... I don't really care that much. Just watching and waiting for them to flip over at 100mph. But not the USA guys. Need to be clear on that.

(edit: I did not know about the luge accident in Vancouver when I wrote this. I won't edit, I'm not going to censor, but of course, I was merely being humorous... I've seen games where the lugers fall off, get up, brush off, and go again... and that's all I really was referring to. It's terrible what happened in Vancouver today and my thoughts go out to Nodar Kumaritashvili's family.)


Now for what I don't love about the Winter Olympics...

Curling. Seriously? This is a sport? Push-brooming a path so a rounded weight can travel across an ice rink at mach snail?

I had never seen curling before the '02 Olympics. Regardless of when the event is held, they don't air it until 2 or 3 a.m., which I suppose is because no one cares. So I was curious, and I stayed up one night to see what it was.

I remember it, I was sitting on the couch, waiting for something to happen...

*blink*

"Push brooms? Are they janitors?"

*stare*

"Is this all they're going to do?"

*blinkblink*

"Can't that round thing go any faster?"

Never again. Keep that crap on at 3 a.m.

Cross-country skiing... can I ask... why? I must be missing something, but I find it really boring. I understand speed and timing and all that... but they're just moving over flat land. That's no fun! Bring on the Hot-Dog Aerials! (do they still call it that?)

(Hot Dog Aerials! <-- band name!)

Hey, what's that? Oooh, shiny...

Huh? Oh. Where was I?

Oh right - Olympic Joy...

Commences tonight! Opening ceremonies on NBC. Check your local listings!

Loss Angle Ease - A Boring Narrative

Note: I very much bit the biggie on publishing this in a timely manner. I began it around Jan. 27th or so. But anyway...

Getting the hell out of dodge in the middle of Chicago winter - I am a fan.

And what better place to escape than sunny SoCal?

Well, sunny yes, but I might have liked 65-70ish degrees. Still... 58 wasn't the worst idea ever, compared to what I left behind.

It was your run of the mill airplane ride. Nothing exciting to report - until after the layover in Phoenix, at least.

By the way, when did the Phoenix airport randomly expand? I'm no stranger to Sky Harbor, but I don't remember the (former) America West concourse stretching from Phoenix to Palm Springs. I half expected to reach the other side of the concourse and be in Burbank.

This is where it got exciting. The one-hour jaunt from Phoenix to Burbank took place aboard one of those little planes, the kind where instead of a jetway, you exit the plane down a little staircase, especially when you arrive at a small airport, like Burbank. I've never done that before. I felt like the Beatles in those old pictures you see where they first came to America!! (I'm easily amused)

Now, FLYING on those little damn things is another matter. Again, I've never had to do this. Seems I've only ever flown to and from major hubs - Chicago, LaGuardia, LAX, Orlando, Sky Harbor... so Burbank was a new deal. On the way back home, the small plane/short flight from Burbank to Phoenix was a problem right away. We chose the exit row seats (leg room is important!). Well, the little plastic hatch that covers the handle of the emergency exit door kept popping open right next to my head. After the 3rd time, I discovered why. It was held on by velcro - oh yes, I said VELCRO - and the stickiness on the back of the velcro was no longer sticky, hence, the popping-open trouble.

Now, let's stop a minute. See, here's the thing. I don't want to get on a plane and, for ANY reason, see velcro. It's an airplane!! We do not fix broken items on airplanes, with VELCRO.

Dear US Airways: Are you friggin' kidding me? Thanks, Kim

(sidenote: had this been Southwest Airlines, I wouldn't have been the lest bit surprised to see velcro)

Ok, back to Cali.

It was late and we needed dinner. There was a Domino's menu in our room, so we made dinner come to us. Now - I don't particular like Domino's (hey I'm a Chicagoan... pizza is a food group and Domino's is sacrilegious) but in a pinch it will do. Barely. I've had a previous experience with pizza in California and "wet cardboard" is what comes to mind. But this is Domino's - they're national so it's all going to be the same, right?

No.

California screws up food. They just do. They also screwed up Del Taco and In & Out Burger. Hey, Californians... wander over to Arizona and have In & Out Burger. THAT is what it's supposed to taste like.

However, California managed to make up for disastrous food when I visited Porto's Bakery & Cafe at Hollywood Way and Magnolia in Burbank (I have to be specific for future personal reference. My memory sucks). Can you say "pastrygasm"? I can! And I had one. Ok I had several. Om nom nom.

Driving. Oh, dear heaven, the driving.

Now, I dealt with the 101 freeway in Phoenix for over 4 years, and I thought that was the absolute worst it could possibly get, so the idea of having to drive in CA didn't scare me that much. But I've changed my mind. Let me ask a question here... hey Californians (past or present)... who in hell taught you people how to change lanes? No I'm serious... because I have some rather urgent news: You're doing it wrong!

The term "change lanes" means you are expected to maintain your speed and drive carefully over INTO the next lane and keep going. ALL the way into the next lane. It does not mean aim your car in the general direction of the lane you hope to be in at some point in your future, traverse only halfway into said lane, and then STOP.

You can't change lanes properly, but you will ride my ass like Brokeback Mountain when I don't do 50 mph down the insanely twisty road through Laurel Canyon? I'm not going fast enough for you down a curvy mountain road where the speed limit drops below 30, but you'll stop mid-lane-change on a city street at a green light? And you wonder why people dislike CA drivers. THAT'S WHY.

(To be fair, they would visit Chicago and demand to know why we will pull out halfway across a busy road and block one side of traffic to make a left turn... that is perfectly acceptable here, so I wonder if that lane changing madness is just 'their way' out there?)

Did anything good happen on this trip in between scary, dottering airplanes and playing real-life Mario Kart down Cahuenga Blvd.? Absolutely!

After Saturday morning's frightful drive down Laurel Canyon Blvd. (which should promptly be renamed "Shit Your Pants Avenue", but whatever), we arrived at the Hollywood Walk of Fame. We parked the car in a garage, got out, and this was the first thing we saw:

I had to triple take this one. It was a walking joke...

"Elmo and Elvis are walking down the street..."

I'd seen the walk of fame before, but it's kind of fun, and there were a few stars I've not seen, one in particular that was not there the last time I visited...

It is, of course, mandatory to sit on the stars...

And I refused to leave without seeing this one... may not be readable, but it's JOHNNY DEPP:

And of course - tribute must be paid:

And under the heading of "Absolutely Random":

One thing I had not done before was visit Madame Tussaud's, the wax museum. It's right there on the Boulevard, so ... why not, right?

It was both fun and creepy. They are not kidding around with those wax celebrities, man.

When you first enter, they tell you "step over and pose with the President!" (and by God, they are excited about it!) So we did:

Now, these figures, keep in mind, are supposed to be accurate in height, shape, etc. I'm about 5'3"ish, maybe just under 5'4"... Obama be a tall dude, mang!

Some of these figures are so real looking that it's actually a little creepy. I think it took about 20 minutes before I stopped being fully weirded out. You'd think it would be cool to sit with George Clooney, and it probably would be... but when he's staring you down and not blinking... not so much. I remember saying something to Rhi as she posed with WaxGeorge along the way of "I can't even take this picture, he's staring holes through me!"

But here we go:

Right near George was this guy (and we all know how I feel about this guy):

THUD.

But also, not thud. Also... very odd. "Oh hi there, WaxJohn. 'Sup?"

And you know what I forgot to do?! Check for... baggage. See, the figures are made to the right height and shape - so are they accurate in other ways also? I should have checked! Might have been worth getting thrown out of the museum, actually.

"Can you wire me bail money? I've been arrested in Hollywood for sexually assaulting a wax figure."



Across the way (and I refused to photograph this) were Brad and Angelina, and in Absolute Hollywood Tactless Fashion, across the room from them is a lone Jennifer Aniston, posed as if she's standing there staring at them. *shakes head* Just wow.

Now, this one was wild (in a cool way of course)... The Duke:

That guy was a skyscraper!!

So, we wandered around the rest of the museum, along the Walk of Fame some more, a nice drive through Beverly Hills and Bel Air... and then took a drive up the coast. A lovely day, overall.

Sidenote:

It's impossible to enter Bel Air and NOT start singing the Fresh Prince song if you are under 40 years old.

Matter of fact, it's impossible for someone to even mention the Fresh Prince song and not start singing it. You know you're doing it right now.

"In west Philadelphia, born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days..."

On the way back to the hotel that evening, we passed a tiny shop (or house... I'm not sure) that screamed "PALM READINGS" in big neon.

This could be interesting, thought we. Actually, thought she, but I went along with it. I'm not as much a believer in that kind of stuff... cosmic unexexplainables do happen to me rather often though, so I'm not closed off to the idea.

Well, here I was sitting in the little foyer/waiting area, listening to this palm reader lady, Chanel (I believe that was it), talking to Rhiannon. The more I listened, the more stunned I was. This is almost warranting a blog of its own. But it won't. Too personal. This woman knew things she couldn't have possibly known. She described in pretty great detail (during both of our readings, actually) things that not one person outside the two of us would know. That's all I will say about that, as my only point was to illustrate my shock.

After hearing everything she told my friend, I decided that I did not want to do it. I was afraid of what I would hear and decided there just may be some things I was better of not having answers to.

But, I did it anyway. It's still hard for me to really buy the whole "psychic" thing, but I can't figure how this lady was able to describe certain things to me in such detail without me telling her anything.

So, highly weirded out by the experience (me) and also very excited about it (Rhi), we left, talking in further detail about what we'd just been told by this mysterious stranger.

I am stuck with no segue here, so basically, that was the end of the evening. Heh heh.

Sunday brought forth a trip to the Universal City Walk and another ride to the Walk of Fame area to visit a really large and very cool thrift shop on Hollywood Blvd. called Iguana Vintage Clothing.

Here you go: http://www.iguanaclothing.com/

I managed to make it out without buying anything, which I'm regretting slightly. I combed through all the old sports jerseys and tshirts looking for a specific gift and foo... found nothing that would work. I also went through all the old bowling shirts with embroidered names like Fred, Al, Don and no less than 26 Herbs. Sadly, I did not find one funny enough for me to spend $20 on.

Sunday ALSO brought the movie geek out of me. Driving down Hollywood, we passed Genesee Avenue. I had to turn. I just had to see it. HAD to see... 1428 Genesee Avenue.

You would know it as...

"1428 Elm Street"

Squeek!

The house that was Johnny Depp's house in the movie is right across the street (just as in the film) but, if I was looking at the right one, it didn't look quite the same anymore. And I didn't take a picture. It was bad enough I stopped to photograph one stranger's home. O.o (I don't make a habit of things like that - I promise)

Then... more driving around. Now the fun part in all the driving was listening to my faithful companion completely MANGLE all the Los Angeles street names.

I recommend this, if you can. And I will also use it as my send off to you on this entry... best time you'll ever have - go to Los Angeles and take a friend who is not hooked on phonics. Endless entertainment.

Blogger Challenge Accepted - Interview #1

Received this challenge. I haven't read the challenger's answers - it's another one of our tin foil hat experiments.

We (meaning "she") pulled these questions from this blog:

http://www.mommywantsvodka.com/?p=3230

1) Dave and I have a long-standing feud over cheese in a can. He thinks it’s food of The Gods while I think it’s probably Of The Devil. Your take?

Intolerable. Unless I happen to be drinking.

2) Is there any way you can think of to make the elder Gosselins go away? I AM ALL EARS.

A small padlocked shed, a gross of firecrackers and 5 or 6 wolverines. Bonus points if we have room to toss in Sarah Palin.

3) Who is your ridiculous “I can’t admit this to anyone in polite company lest I be banned from life” crush?

This isn't really a fair question. I don't want to be banned from life. How would I get to see seasons 3 and 4 of "Big Love"?

Edit. I'm dopey. I never answered the question. I don't really have any crushes I wouldn't admit. Johnny Depp... Steve Perry in 1980... and 1981... and 1986... Apolo Ohno... Matt LeBlanc (How YOU dooooinnn'?!)...

...ok wait I thought of one. In 1995 I thought Kato Kaelin was cute. Eventually he opened his mouth and started talking, thus very effectively ruining it.

4) If you could fuck it all and pursue your dream (assuming, of course, you were going to be GOOD at it), what would that dream be?

Writing. Or Ice Hockey. But probably writing. Hurts less.

5) They say “living well is the best revenge.” I think they are wrong. Do you?

"They"? "They" who? Screw "them". I'll live how I want and do what's good for me. "They" can all kiss my tit.

6) What is the most humiliation you’ve experienced in public that you’d be willing to admit to The Internet?

I don't really want to tell the Yankee Candle Store story. That was pretty bad. Only one witness at least. (and now I've become a tease... suffer!)


I suppose I could insert any number of falling down stories, cuz, you know, I do that. My best exit from such embarrassment was as follows... crossing a 4 lane road one day, and did one of those "trip over nothing" moves. The person I was with stared at me like, "there's not even anything there to trip over, what's wrong with you?" I pointed to the white lane marker... "They painted that too thick. That's a hazard."

7) Are you honest with The Internet? Like, if I came over to your house tonight (heh)(I’m coming over, yo)(heh) would I be surprised at who I found?


Pretty honest, I guess, though I'm careful about who I give what info to.


8 ) If you could have one talent that you don’t currently possess, what would it be?


Is "not overreacting" a talent?

9) There’s not always room for Jello. Is there?

No, there is not. What if I JUST ate? What if I just ate a giant feast? What if I am full to brim? You think I'm gonna pile questionably-flavored green wiggly shit into a tummy with no room in it? No. Know why? Because there might be cake. I'm not gonna eat jello and then find out there is cake. Heads will roll.

10) What’s your guiltiest of the guilty pleasures?


Believe me, no one wants that image in their head.

So, I'll just say... watching Olympic figure skating (and laughing when non-USA competitors fall on their ass and complete their routines fighting back tears).

FIN.

"Kim Just Trimmed Her Bush in Farmville"

That ^ was honestly the best Facebook status I've ever posted. I think it might become the title of the book I'll never write.

But you don't even have to play the game to get why it's funny. Facebook members have all seen these goofy wall posts, and the folks who don't play the game have probably become annoyed enough to hide all the posts from this application by now, since (I believe I read somewhere that) Farmville has become the most popular Facebook application.

I became addicted to playing this game, as all of my Facebook connections know by now. It's my winter evening chill out activity. Almost time for bed, not quite ready to sleep and am bored, so... go farm for awhile.

But, even better, I learned last week that Farmville serves a better purpose - feeding my seriously sick sense of humor.

It isn't enough that Farmville gives me all kinds of wonderful things to make fun of, like the stupid pop-ups encouraging me to tell all my friends that I just mastered the Squash crops and that I'm now the proud owner of a Baby Turkey... yeah, thanks Farmville... what this basically says is "Hi! Go tell all your friends on Facebook what a loser you are and don't have a date tonight, so while you're sitting on your couch eating Godiva truffles, you just harvested your 1,200th batch of cartoon tomatoes and are now the Tomato Master of the World!"

Incidentally, I apologize to my Facebook friends and family for all the lost animal and gold egg posts. To be fair, I don't post all the other stupid shit the game tries to make me share... but Farmville really sticks it to you with the lost animals. They give you a picture of a really sad looking animal and they tell you it got lost and is lonely. Say you get a sad, lonely ugly duckling or a lost cow... they give you 2 buttons to click. One says "Help Cow" and one says "Ignore Cow".

I don't care if it's only a cartoon game, you have to have a great big disgusting black heart to be able to click "Ignore Cow" and live with yourself.

If you're politically correct, a christian, or any kind of nice person, you're not going to like what's coming. The rest of you heathens are invited along for the ride.

Recently, Farmville added some Christmas items and caused a big stir among the serious players (read: among a lot of people with way too much friggin' time on their hands to complain about a f*%#!ing cartoon tree). All this did for me was give me more things to laugh at, so I came out a winner.

Farmville gave every player a "Holiday Tree" which can hold "gifts" that can be sent back and forth between friends. What happened was Farmville sent this cute little tree to each player's gift box so that players might place the tree on their farms and place gifts under it. Basically, all it means is that you're going to get FREE items for your game.

You like free items, right?

I do too!!

Well, two things happened. First off, many players became upset that Farmville named it a "Holiday Tree" and not a "Christmas Tree".

Well, we hear that argument every year at this time, so no big surprise.

(aside: please stop forwarding me those emails becuase I truly do not care. It's a Christmas Tree to me because it's the word I learned for it over 30 years years ago and because it is a symbol of the Christmas holiday, but if it makes people feel better to call it a "Holiday" tree, then I really don't give a damn. Call it "Steve" for all I friggin' care. It's a dead pine tree, that's what *I* call it. Do you people not realize the world is full of starving children, environmental trouble, war, criminals and Rush Limbaugh? Bigger fish to bake and dust with lemon juice and pepper, people!! ((I prefer that to frying)) What was I saying? Oh yeah... the Christmas tree...))

So there was the one camp of people complaining that it was called a Holiday Tree... and the second thing that happened was the other side of the argument, the people who want nothing to do with Christmas complained that the Farmville developers FORCED a Christmas tree on them. Even though they called it a "Holiday Tree", the wool could not be pulled over on this group of scholars. They knew damn well it was a Christmas Tree!! And they were PISSED.

HOW DARE these crafty game developers try to give them free crap under the guise of Christmas! HOW DARE they take such liberties as to place a green bundle of pixels in the gift boxes of people who don't celebrate Christmas!! I honestly read a comment like that - that Farmville was wrong to take it upon themselves to just run amok and PUT that Christmas Tree in the person's giftbox. I mean, wow. Just wow. O.o

It's not like Farmville has a "delete item" option, or anything. Wait... what?

The little red shovel that says "delete" can be used for removing unwanted items?

You're kidding?!

Well, problem solved then!!

What? You mean that wasn't good enough and people still complained?

Unimaginable!

These people are now my target. Would have been just as easy to shut up, delete the tree, and stay off my radar but unfortunately the damage is done.

I had a conversation about this with a friend, about all the people freaking out over something so stupid. There's no violation of religious beliefs and there is no purposeful slight against any group of people. It's a GAME... just interactive colored pixels. That's all it is.

Personally, I would like to see them really get into the Christmas spirit over at Farmville. Let's transform it into ChristianVille for the Holy Season. Your don't get a farmer... instead, you get a little Kirk Cameron that wanders about tending the sheep and whatnot. Granted, your farming neighbors might stop visiting until he goes away, but see, that's part of the game challenge.

So, where's the limited edition nativity scene? Where's the Mary and Joseph? Lord knows I have enough freakin' sheep and lambs to put inside the darn thing.

I want to go into the game on Christmas morning and see the little "ready" icon over Mary's head and choose "Collect" and harvest from her my limited edition Baby Jesus. Why can't I do that? Then maybe I can place him on my farm and he can grow up, just like the crops grow... then on Good Friday he can wilt, like the daffodils do, and lay in a heap among the hay bales. Then on Easter Sunday I can choose "Transform" and bring him back! "Kim just resurrected her Jesus in Farmville! Click to Collect a Bonus!" Then you a get a purple Easter egg.

I want wisemen, and every 2 days I want to click them and collect frankincense and myrrh.

"A lost, lonely Jew wandered onto your farm looking for a good sale."

Help Jew ... Ignore Jew

I mean come on!! If we're going to have some fun with this game, let's REALLY get into it!

Hmm. Maybe we should stick with adoptable animals instead of adoptable Jews. That might be just one too far. It isn't so much a political correctness issue as it is a human rights issue. PETA can kiss my lily white tuchus, but I don't need the JDO breathing down my neck.

"A lonely, lost Gefilte Fish swam into the pond on your farm."

Help Gefilte Fish ... Put Gefilte Fish on Cracker and Eat Him

That's better.

But this might actually fall under the heading of HannukahVille.

(Do you people have any idea how hard it was for me not to type JewVille?)

Oops.

Er.

Moving on...

My other favorite complaints have been the people who have something to say about the things that you collect from the animals. When lost, lonely turtles arrived, their collection item was eggs.

Yeah? And?

I read some comments about cruelty, or some such nonsense.

Good lord! It's a goofy game! Er... guys? Psssst! The turtle eggs aren't real!

You know what I want? I want to stuff a pig, a chicken and a cow into the dairy barn and harvest me a Bacon, Egg & Cheese sammich. I want to click the horse and get a nice plate of Cheval a la Bordelaise! Why can't I collect tubs of mayo from the chicken coops? It's made of eggs, ISN'T IT?!

"Baby Calf is ready" - "Click to Brush Calf for 90 coins"

What? No!

Give me Veal Scallopini!!

No one listens to me. I have all the great ideas, and no one cares.

But it doesn't matter anyway, because my Eggplants are almost ready and I'm just about to become the Eggplant Master. Goo goo g'joob.

3 girls, 1 Cup

I've been examining some things in the world of our favorite classic sitcoms which I don't believe have been fully looked into. Some of these are small things, and some of them require a bit more investigation. I've noticed a few things with regard to the living situation of our beloved television families. A number of these things don't add up. I really have to question the architecture and contracting in the sitcom world. (Why? Because it's 11:30 at night and I have nothing to do at the moment)

Mary Tyler Moore... it's a minor thing, but it always bothered me. This poor girl had the worst apartment ever. She didn't even have a bed, and she was a television executive! I suppose she had it ok, what with having the biggest studio apartment I have ever seen, and it was the 70s, so I'm sure her rent was pretty low, but her kitchen wasn't big enough to turn around in and she didn't have a bathroom! She had what we were led to believe was a changing room or a walk in closet of some sort... was the bathroom in there? I never heard a toilet flush. Maybe Mary was too ladylike to flush with people around, and god knows that damn Cloris Leachman was showing up every 10 minutes. Always in the middle of the night too, her and that Rhoda. I'd have moved out the same week I moved in if that was what was going on. Just what a girl wants... she has to pull out the sofa and make up the bed every night after struggling around to make cocoa in that ridiculous "kitchen"... she finally gets into bed, shuts off the light, and Valerie Harper keeps showing up. Definitely a raw deal and a trade down from Mary lived on the Dick Van Dyke show. Then again, she went from Rob tripping over shit and waking her up to Rhoda knocking down the door at 2 am every night, so maybe not.

Meanwhile, over at 704 Hauser Street in Queens, New York, you DID hear the toilet flush. All the way down in Baltimore! We never heard the radio playing in the other room, or Archie and Edith going at it (and you would THINK Edith would be a screamer with that voice!) but you could hear that toilet flush from the moon.

Now, I'd also like to know if anyone else has noticed that the One Day At A Time Family lived in the same apartment as the Good Times family, which is funny for three reasons: Good Times lived in Chicago, One Day At A Time lived in Indianapolis and Florida from Good Times lived in New York one day and had a husband and three grown kids in a Chicago project the next.

The Golden Girls. I have to say, if you actually pay attention to that house, you will notice there isn't actually ANY room where their bedrooms are supposed to be. Kind of a problem for a house full of horny old widows. So we go from a house with no bedrooms to a house with a very flawed bathroom.

Oh yeah.

It's been done. Every stand up comedian has touched on this but none of them really looked into the problem.

The classic joke about how a father of 6 who is also an architect builds his house with one bathroom for 6 kids. A bathroom with no toilet.

There was no toilet!!

The Brady Bunch had a big giant house with 6 kids, 2 parents, an Alice and a dog... should Mike have maybe threw in an extra bedroom? Maybe another bathroom? A toilet or two, perhaps?

But this really brings up a problem. And I want an answer. How did the Bradys go to the bathroom!?!? Just what was going on in that house? Should DCFS have maybe popped on by and checked into things? The Brady kids couldn't go to the bathroom!

We know that 6 children shared one bathroom with no toilet so what went on? Did they just "go" like farm animals and Alice had to shoo them off to school and go up there with a shovel before she made the beds? Did they have a cup hidden under Cindy's bed that they shared?

Did they poop on the Astroturf in the yard with Tiger? Is that how Jan really lost her necklace? She wasn't leaning out that window to see any stars, I'm telling you that right now. She was hanging moon out that window and trying not to get any on the siding.

There's only one conclusion I can come too. The Brady kids were born without bungholes. Think about it... on all the other shows you at least heard a joke or a mention about a person needing to pee, or being int he bathroom, or having questionable Mexican food for dinner. The Brady kids never seemed to have to use the bathroom for anything except washing up for dinner and brushing their hair. They had no escape hatches!!

And what does this all tie into?

Simple.

I watched WAY too much freakin' tv as kid.

Ok, I gotta go now. Roseanne is on.

Anatomy of a Crappy Song #7: "Ironic"

This one has been coming for awhile. It bugs me every time I hear the song.

First, we must examine the meaning of the word "irony". There are several types of irony, therefore many definitions and some of them are subjective, but I believe I found a nice summary...

"The American Heritage Dictionary's secondary meaning for irony: “incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs.” This sense, however, is not synonymous with "incongruous" but merely a definition of dramatic or situational irony. The American Heritage Dictionary’s usage panel found it unacceptable to use the word ironic to describe mere unfortunate coincidences or surprising disappointments that 'suggest no particular lessons about human vanity or folly.'"

It's that bold part there - that's what I was looking to find proof of. I knew that, but I couldn't find a dictionary entry that gave it to me in the words I needed or one that gave me a definition that wouldn't have involved me looking up six other words to figure out what in hell they were talking about.

So this brings us to Alanis Morisette's "Ironic". I feel bad for this one, because I like Alanis. But this song just begs for it.

The wind is let out of my sails a bit by the fact that Alanis has already copped to the misuse of the word. Behold:

"The song's usage of the word "ironic" attracted attention for what some think is an improper application of the term. Two situations that Morissette describes in the song are arguably examples of cosmic irony: events that, as the Oxford English Dictionary puts it, appear "as if in mockery of the fitness or rightness of things", such as "a death row pardon/two minutes too late". Morissette has also confirmed that she is a self-dubbed "malapropism queen" and alleges that the song was lighthearted and not taken too seriously at the time it was written."


Well, you know what? That isn't about to stop me.

"Ironic" - Alanis Morisette

An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day

Nope. Not irony. Might be cosmic irony if the guy was 35.
He was 98!!

It's a black fly in your Chardonnay

Mmmm... nope. Not ironic. Gross, but not ironic. And completely preventable, by the way. Hang up a no-pest strip for crying out loud, and you will drastically reduce the odds of ironic insects in your beverages.

It's a death row pardon two minutes too late

Subjective. Cosmically ironic, I agree. Ok, she got one right, so far.

(Chorus)

And isn't it ironic... don't you think

No, I don't. Thus, this blog.


It's like rain on your wedding day

Not ironic unless you happen to be marrying a weatherman who took the day off to marry you and his incompetent fill-in predicted sun.

It's a free ride when you've already paid

If you've paid, it isn't a free ride. Even if someone offers you free boarding, and you've already paid, so it's still a paid ride. How about "It's the offer of a free ride when you've already paid"? I can see how this poses a melodic problem, but that doesn't make it ok to alter the English language.

It's the good advice that you just didn't take

Dismissing good advice is not irony. If you receive the good advice and choose to ignore it, the consequences are your own fault. Now, it might be ironic if you received the advice 5 minutes after you did the dumb thing, and the advice turns out to be information you would have appreciated and used had you gotten it five minutes earlier. But I suppose trying to work that in poses an even bigger melodic problem.

Who would've thought... it figures

I would have. I'm starting to believe this song should have been called "Murphy's Law", because that is what all of these situations sound like. And by the way, isn't that when people usually use the expression "it figures"? When they've been run over by Murphy's Law?

Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought"Well isn't this nice..."

Again, probably cosmic irony at work here, so I don't mind giving a slight pass on this one too, but...

... who is sitting there thinking "Well, isn't this nice?" as their plane is crashing? Even with a sarcastic tone, that's the kind of thing you think when you spill coffee on a white shirt or you get caught jerking off, or something. Now I wouldn't know firsthand, but I'm assuming that if the plane is crashing, smartass quips are not what are going to happen across peoples' minds at the time.

"OHMYGODNOOOOOOHOLYSHITTHISCAN'TBEHAPPENING
OHGODOHGODOHGODHELPMEICAN'TBELIEVETHIS!"

...is probably what is going to go through peoples' minds.
But again... melodically, it does not work.

(Chorus)

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right

Isn't that almost the very definition of Murphy's Law? Or close enough at least? If you remove the "when you think" part, you're there. Murphy's Law. If anything can go wrong, it will. A fucking fly will land right in your wine.

And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything's gone wrong
and everything blows up in your face

Something blew up in my face just a few nights ago. Literally. Life did not help me. Whining and crying "It hurts!!" helped alot though!!


A traffic jam when you're already late

I call b.s. Traffic jams happen all the time. When you're late, when you're early, when you're not even out driving... if you get into a car at any time of the day, start it, and drive down a road where other cars are also driving, you risk being in a traffic jam. There is nothing ironic about it.

A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break

Then go somewhere else and smoke, dumbass.

It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife

Who on this planet, OTHER than spoon factory workers and possibly Crate and Barrel employees, has ever in their life encountered 10,000 spoons? I want to meet the person who was in their kitchen or at a concession stand searching for a knife and all they could find were 10,000 spoons.


It's meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife

Not ironic! That one falls under "unfortunate".

And isn't it ironic...don't you think
A little too ironic...and, yeah, I really do think...

Well, I don't, and it's MY blog. Ppppbbbblttt!