I've decided that Ally McBeal was an interesting role model for women. Beneath the 20 lb exterior and gallon of makeup which she somehow managed to fit on her abnormally large (for her frame) head every episode was a woman with some very interesting notions about life, love, and the much needed pursuit of a double cheeseburger. I've known many "Allys" in my life. The interesting thing was that each of them was unique. No clones here; each had their own unique outlook on how employment, work, life, politics, and that greasy guy on the corner who keeps staring and liking his lips every time a woman reaches into her purse to answer her cell phone should be. One Ally I know refuses to leave the house without putting on the entire Clinique skin care line, while another has decided that she will join the "Daughters of Eve", a group of women who wish to "expose and depose" president Bush through an intense regiment of "protest panty flashing"...I've included a link here since I know you're all interested. Another Ally has decided that she needs to diet and thus orders either orange-only foods (i.e. carrots and Cheetos) or a crouton and a glass of water for most major meals. Gotta keep up on that signature physique...exposed ribs are in!! Is there a male equivalent to Ally McBeal somewhere? I need a role model dammit.
Leave it to The Onion to tell it like it is...
For all of Ally's flaws on camera flaws (dating of inappropriate men, poor acting, and general aversion to anything containing more than 10 total calories), she and her fellow cast mates did have some interesting ideas. I was never a huge fan of the show back when it was on the air, but between my mother and my sister, I saw my fair share of episodes. There was the idea of so called "waddle" as a turn-on (waddle is the loose skin found on an older woman's neck), the idea of spanking, and of course the big lesbian kiss scene between Lucy Liu, Calista Flockheart and Portia di Rossi. If a television show gives us all this and still had the capacity to entertain and promote vulnerability and self-pity, it couldn't have been all bad. Perhaps what was most ingrained in my mind is that Ally's therapist made her choose a theme song for herself on a weekly basis. A theme song just for me...how cool would that be?! Your theme song could play when you walk in the door to work, get home for dinner, and even during sex! Of course the entire time your partner may be searching for the mute button. More depressingly, that may not necessarily be for the theme song...
I've spent some time while sitting here at work trying to think of what my theme song would be, but I seem to be drawing a blank. For some reason that "you're gonna make it after all" Mary Tyler Moore thing is stuck in my head, but I don't know if I can pull that one off. It takes a lot of strength to "walk like you mean it" through a park and then finally spasmodically throw your beret in the air, startling those around you and scaring small children. I think something more tame would be in order for me. I began "shopping" through the theme songs of current television shows, but for some reason couldn't find anything I like either. Trying to get inspiration from current television shows is like comparing Lindsay Lohan and Hillary Duff...everything is exactly the same. Well, ok, so Hillary hasn't gone to rehab yet, but it's only a matter of time. Everything these days is all synthesizers and random animal noises. Gone are the days of do-wop background vocals and catchy theme songs that actually required a good fifteen minutes worth of thought.
Mary, stop scaring the children!
Therefore I have decided that I will postpone my search for a theme song. I'm going to delay selecting something until either I am forced into therapy and have to select something, or something of substance presents itself. I will keep you informed.
I once had an argument with my friend John about popstars. He and I many years ago thought that the two reigning female pop sensations were quite possibly the hottest things on Earth: Brittany Spears and Christina Aguilera. I was in the minority and was a Christina fan, while John preferred Brittany. We never liked the music or anything, but simply liked the way that they looked. Seriously, music videos with the mute button on were the greatest back when you were a teenager. Still though, time passed and we eventually grew out of it. Looking back now, I think I my choice was the better of the two. I mean, seriously. Multiple Grammy awards wins hands down over multiple marriages, multiple children, and multiple cesarean scars. Andrew 1, John 0.
We don't care if you are our long lost daughter, you have to put your underwear back on and leave K-Fed outside.
I didn't actually know about all the newest Britney drama today until I was having lunch with another one of my friends who happened to mention it in passing conversation. Wow, what a surprise. What was once the fantasy of many pubescent teenage boys (John included) now looks like an extra from the Coneheads Saturday night live skit. But kudos to Britney Spears. Folks said it couldn't be done, but she has managed to become even more white trash than K-Fed. The interesting thing is not the fact that she went all psycho which the razor and cut off all of her hair, or the fact that little Sean Preston has a good chance of ending up with his dad for the rest of his life (can we say Child Support Check *ka-ching!*), but the media circus which has ensued since the eventful shearing of her blond-black-golden-brown-red-orange-whatever color they were this last week- locks. It's a sad sad day when yet another teen sensation has a breakdown, freaks out, does something silly, and then checks herself into rehab. Seriously, new pop stars take heed and get an "insanity" clause plastered into your contract providing you with extra money and support when you eventually have to check yourself into Betty Ford.
A million dollars for a used lighter, hair and a half-drank can of Red Bull?!
Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot.
Some further research yielded even more wonderful gems. Apparently, Craig Furgeson has decided that he will not make fun of Britney because she is "too vulnerable" right now. Too vulnerable? Vulnerability does not equal insanity. I bet in the next few months Britney will be on Oprah's ugly yellow couch jumping up and down, and then she and Tom Cruise will settle down to share a nice padded room. But perhaps the most hilarious part of it all is that the place where Britney shorn off her hair is having an auction for it. For one million dollars you can be the proud owner of Brittany's hair extensions, her cigarette lighter, the clippers, and her can of Red Bull which she was drinking while she went all Indigo Girls and Birkenstocks on her hair. According to the website BuyBritney'sHair.com, the winner of the auction can choose to "remain anonymous, or use the purchase for publicity purposes. Yikes, nothing but good wholesome morals going on there! Britney's manager later announced that she was voluntarily checking herself into a rehab facility. Honestly, was it really a surprise? Didn't we all see this coming eventually? It was only a matter of time...
After recently coming back from a trip through Utah, I sometimes wish that I could just sit down and rationally talk to a Mormon missionary for a few moments. Those that know me might find this slightly strange, but I want some answers. Is it true that there was once a more than wife thing? How many wives exactly did you get? What if one of them is actually a lesbian and she wants more than one wife as well? Do those wives become part of my wives by proxy? Simple questions. He, being the traditional stand up Mormon that he would be must get those kind of questions all the time. Although I would probably disappoint him because I wouldn't want to convert or anything, my questions may somehow at least cause him to smile. I'm not in the market for a new religion. Hell, I hardly honor my current one.
Greetings from Utah: Our Jesus is better than your Jesus!
The Mormon Church is perhaps the most commercial religion I know. This is an interesting statement to ponder considering things seem to get a bit crazy around Christmas time with the lights, nativity scenes, and the giant inflatable Jesus which you can buy at the local K-mart for the front lawn. I sometimes wonder if Christ knew that he allegedly was dying not only for our sins but also for gaudy decorations and 50-75% off sales at the T.J. Maxx. Our savior has died, now you can feel free to take the shit we couldn't sell before the holiday for a fraction of the price! Still, even through all the commercialization of Christmas, the LDSers seem to have the monopoly on commercialized religion. Being an American an all, I feel it fully necessary to celebrate all things overly commercialized and thus will now give credit where credit is due. Here are two such examples of the commercialization.
1. The State of Utah. Let's face it. It's common knowledge that the Utah is a "holy owned subsidiary of the LDS church". Close to 70% of the population is of the Mormon faith. If in doubt, you can even get a bumper sticker or a pin or something which says something that effect here. Still though, it is true. The three times that I have been to Utah (soon to be four in the upcoming week), the Mormon population has been out in full force. I'm not exactly sure how the great migration into Utah from Ohio, Mars or wherever they were originally from went, but for now, Utah is where the colonization has occurred. I've never actually lived in Utah, but I can imagine that it would be quite interesting to do so. For a complete expose on "Life behind the Zion curtain", an amusing blog can be found here. I've heard some strange rumors about rules pertaining to the ingestion of alcoholic beverages and gambling, but I'll have to brush up on them before traveling again. However, it was interesting to see the sign in Page, Arizona mentioning that it was the last stop to buy alcohol before entering "Utah territory".
Perhaps this beer's consumption should be controlled...
2. MormMart. At least that is what I have dubbed it. Is your Sunday best tired from countless hours praying, converting, or voting republican? If so, simply log on and head over to the good folks at 1on1.net and you can save 10% or more on most of the items in their store. This includes the highly fashionable temple dresses, temple ties, missionary gifts, and even shirts with the Tide logo rearranged to say "Repent: Tough on Sins". I'm sure somewhere an executive in the Tide Corporation is thinking "I've created a monster". My question is this: what's wrong with regular shirts? regular dresses? Regular Tide? Are these garments and laundry detergent somehow more blessed than the average name brand merchandise?
I guess that there is much I still have left to learn. Maybe someday it will all make sense.
Whenever I'm bored at work, I can always count on Wikipedia to brighten my forecast for the rest of the day. I always learn something new: whether it be interesting or just pointless trivia, it's an educational experience none the less. Today is Valentine's Day, perhaps the most pointless holiday in existence in my opinion. I'm not one of those cynical people who dislike all the PDA (well, maybe I am), but is it too much to ask to be able to walk to your own car in a public parking lot and not have to feel like a voyeur? The parking is for cars...not for people! I just don't understand. Why is a special day needed to say "I love you... now here's a bunch of assorted flowers to aggravate your allergies, followed by a bunch of candies and chocolates that I don't want you to eat because you'll get fat and then I can't say that I love you superficially anymore." We should say that on a daily basis, well, except for possibly that last part about the flowers and the chocolates...there might be a sharp population delcine in the United States if that were to happen. Still, the idea of Valentine's Day baffles me. In desperate need of guidance and advice, I turned to Wikipedia and it's unbiased (ahem) encyclopedia entries for help. So, without further ado I present the first of the what I learned from Wikipedia edition posts.
Candy hearts of the 90's
According to the academic powerhouse that is the almighty Wikipedia, Valentine's day was named after two (or possibly three) martyrs named Valentine. The fun begins right there. I think that it must be the Catholic church's way of apologizing to people who they needlessly kill by naming a day after them. So hey, if three people with the same name are killed, why not triple up and kill three birds (again) with one stone. Uh, sorry we ended your time here on earth needlessly, but hey, at least you will always be remembered by the Hallmark Corporation. The current estimate is that 1 billion Valentine's Day cards are sent around the world every year, making it the second most popular card sending holiday behind Christmas, thus tagging it a "Hallmark holiday". More interestingly, a recent trend which I was not aware of was calling Valentine's day "single's awareness day". That's depressing on so many levels that I won't bother to get into it.
The first association between Valentine's day and romantic love was by our good friend and one of my personal favs of older British literature, Geoffrey Chaucer. Chaucer wrote in his Parlement of Foules:
For this was on seynt Volantynys day Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese [chose] his make [mate].
Interesting, but as far as I'm concerned this makes the holiday nothing more than a day for a possible orgy for lots of horny birds. Perhaps more hilariously is the establishment of a so called "High Court of Love" in Paris on Valentine's Day, 1400. This court dealt with "love contracts, betrayals, and violence against women." Moreover, the judges of said court were chosen by women based upon their eloquence at reading poetry. First of all, exactly what is a love contract? Can you still get such a thing? Is a layaway plan a possibility? Second, the judges of said court were chosen by women? Based on poetry reading? It's interesting to see exactly how far judicial standards have increased (or decreased in some cases) in this day and age. And finally...women, choosing judges? Surely, you jest...(just kidding)! There then follows an interesting paragraph on Valentine's day in other cultures. In Japan, women actually distribute the candies to men. There is a reciprocal day in which men are supposed to distribute candies to women, but in a strange twist of translation, lingerie is often given instead of candy. How fitting.
Candy hearts for the new millennium
Now, this is all well and good, but who is responsible for the frilly doilies and annoying cutesy decorations and cupids and all that other stuff often associated with this holiday? Seriously, there is so much pink crap around that it looks like we are all stuck inside a cotton candy machine. That is the person I want to meet in a dark alley. Seriously, I'd like to take that guy (or girl) to the High Court of Love. I'd sentence him to death by a lethal injection of potpourri. Thankfully, things seem to be moving away from that one these days, but the focus has been shifted from the love and romance aspect of the holiday toward everyone's favorite word: commitment. No, just kidding: S-E-X. This is best exemplified in the evolution of the candy hearts. What was once "be mine", and "hug me", is now "Donkey Show" and "Grab your ankles". Let's face it, the new and improved candy hearts are like the fortune cookies that you've always wanted to get (see above). Still though, this gives the holiday more character. Imagine these things around a more traditional holiday like Christmas...church attendance might skyrocket if the parishioner's distributed wafers containing the words "cross me!" or "lets get biblical".
It's funny, but you can always tell how good an airline actually is by the in flight meals. Gone are they days of full bologna and cheese sandwiches. Thanks to people’s allergies, peanuts are now often left off the menu. Now, crackers and beverages reign supreme. Still, there is one question that often draws the line between a good airline and a bad airline: the soda. Not necessarily the brand of soda or whether they carry diet or not, but the way in which it is given to you. There is the small cup complete with too much ice, the airlines that simply hand you a chilled can, and then the ones that go all out and give you the cup of ice with the chilled can. To go up North this time, I was given the cup with too much ice, something which I truly hate. With tickets currently tipping the $250 mark to simply fly half way across the country, it is really going to make a difference that they save about twenty cents splitting the sodas in thirds and partitioning them out like wartime meat rations? Worst of all, with all the extra ice to fill up the volume, the soda then becomes VERY watered down and disgusting and you don’t want to drink it. Then the stewardess comes by and gives you a very sour look when she has to dispose of the overflowing soda-water mixture that she so cleverly dispensed to you in the first place. The key is when faced with the cup full of ice: drink the soda immediately and then ask for more.
Snacks are also very diagnostic when it comes to the quality of the airline. Take for example the snack which was provided to me courtesy of Mandi, Jolene, and Suzi…our stewardesses from Southwest Airlines. Granted, when their first names are grouped together it sounds like a bunch of extras from the cast of a National Lampoon’s movie, but they were obviously trying their darndest to provide “the best service in the sky”. Still, the “best service in the sky” is hard to obtain when serving Whole Bran Plane Crackers. If TeddyGrams and Goldfish were to somehow mate and give birth to mechanical offspring, Whole Bran Plane Crackers would be the result of that unholy union. Although manufactured by the Nabisco corporation, these things had enough preservatives in the them to keep Michael Jackson looking young enough to get onto the kiddy rides at the amusement park. It really says something too when the stewardesses come by to collect the garbage as well. Thanks to new FAA requirements, they must now wear latex gloves to collect the food which they have dispensed to us. Seriously, what are they feeding us? But my thought was why stop at gloves…a Haz-mat suit would be much more entertaining for all parties involved…
I’ve decided that there are four types of flying. There’s flying first class, which you get spoiled, pampered, and sometimes put into something called a cocoon for trans-atlantic flights which emerge from ten hours later, looking well rested and you wallet being four pounds lighter. There is business class where you can play with all the fun features that the airline provides for the computer savvy (i.e. porn at 20,000 ft… I wonder if anyone has managed to join the “mile high club” by themselves in business class. Eww). There is economy, where you get to shove yourself between Joe Bob and Melinda, and listen to their twelve screaming kids behind you, hoping that Melinda’s water doesn’t break and that lucky number thirteen will be born right in your lap. And finally, there’s flying Southwest Airlines where seats are unassigned and you get to watch housewives and nuns get into fist fights in order to be placed in the illustrious “Group A” seating class. I noticed that there were actually seat numbers that were present on the plane, but I guess that they are simply used for decoration.
In this day and age, it is a rarity to be able to find the time to simply sit back, relax, and read news headlines in an attempt to catch up with what is going on in the world. Sitting down today I found that I finally have that time, and perhaps too much of it. Aside from reading about Papa Cheney manipulating his pawn "Scooter" Libby up and down the pages of the New York Times and reading that Carl Rove is becoming nervous that he might be the next to become indited, it is always comforting to know that real news still makes the headlines. Case in point: my hero and role model Kevin Federline. So he's a complete douche bag who can't manage to keep his "marriage" together with Brittany Spears. So what if he thinks that he can rap. So what if he fathered a child with another woman but then left her while she was pregnant and followed his pecker to greener pastures (actually, if he literally followed his pecker to greener pastures, Brittany might want to get that checked out next time she sees a doctor). This make for some excellent news, people.
Was it really all that surprising that they got divorced? Seriously, I think that it has been beneficial for both of their careers. Federline's album (ambiguously titled Playing with Fire) has managed to have "disappointing" album (not so ambiguous), and Brittany has managed to further solidify her title as America's Next Top Prostitute by plastering her kuder all over the pages of People magazine. We get to watch two people's careers crash and burn at the same time: it's win/win! However, leave it to Federline to not be one-upped by his ex-wife. To pay the Ferrari bills, K-Fed has decided to shoot a Superbowl halftime commercial for the good folks at Nationwide Mutual Insurance Company featuring him in a "glitzy new music video". "How could such a thing happen? Who would waste their time producing such a thing? When will it be available on YouTube so I can remove the soundtrack and replace it with a Milli Vanilli song (because anything is better than K-Fed's rapping)?" you ask. Well, as it turns out this new video is only a daydream however when he crashes back to reality and finds himself flipping burgers in a "shall-remain-nameless" fast food restaurant. What's the problem? Sounds hilarious! K-Fed flipping burgers must take the man back to his pre-Brittany days of backup dancing and trailer park brawls. It seems likes things have finally come full circle.
Dude, my McJob be better than my rappin'! For schizzle, yo.
So whats the problem? Why is this even newsworthy? Apparently it's offencive to the "12.8 million Americans who work in the restaurant industry" according to Stephen Anderson, president of the National Restaurant Association (NRA...interesting parallel there, but we'll save it for a later date). I began to wonder: does K-Fed command enough star power to piss off the food service industry so much that simply by donning their uniform? I then began to think of other actors and actresses who have appeared in such roles their credits have gone unnoticed by the NRA. Is K-Fed really that bad?
Exhibit 1:Dante Hicks and Randall Graves (Clerks and Clerks 2). Ok, if I were a fast food employee, I would embrace these two for bringing some hilarity to the nine to five. If the sole sum of my existence totaled flipping burgers and making BigMacs, I would need anything to pass the long hours. Music, reading material, crack. Every little bit helps. Granted, I wouldn't condone torturing your religious co-worker (ok, I might) or getting your boss pregnant because you secretly despise the woman that you are currently dating, but still nothing screams respect and good old fashion morals like a Donkey Show right smack in the middle of the workplace. If this movie taught me anything, it would be that it is sometimes necessary (no matter how desperate, inane, or illegal it may be) do to whatever you can to get yourself through the day. Its just good for your sanity. Now, are these people better representatives for the restaurant industry than K-Fed? Well, about the only thing that K-Fed's life and this movie have in common is that they both feature people acting silly and getting overpaid for it, and that it contains scenes of inter-species erotica. Sorry Brittany...but lately, damn.
Exhibit 2: Jared from Subway. Granted, Jared is not exactly a fast food employee, but he defiantly did represent a substantial part of the industry. So here's the problem as I see it. How can the union of burger flippers be upset that K-Fed is in their commercials when this (ex) fat-ass stared in so many of them? I guess one justification would fall under the heading of job security. Seeing as Jared had to eat all those Subway sandwiches to supposedly loose all that weight, that would mean that statistically Jared would have single handedly kept the Subway chain in business for a majority of the 90's. As a scientist, I don't think that it is physiologically possible for one person to loose all that weight by simply eating Subway sandwiches. I don't ever remember seeing a six inch vegetarian sub with a side of liposuction on the menu anywhere. Therefore, is it better to be represented by a fraud like K-Fed, or a fraud like Jared? Pick your poison.
Exhibit 3: Ronald McDonald and Friends. It wouldn't be a complete survey of representatives without considering the Ronald McDonald gang. Seriously, compared to these creepy animated figures, K-Fed is way less strange. I remember being afraid of Grimace (the large purple thing that looks like the lovechild of Chris Farley and a purple bean bag chair) thinking that he would pop out of a closet and eat me when I was younger. Birdie (thing thing that kind of looks like cross between a duck and a canary) was addicted to lithium in all the commercials and always seemed constantly strung out. The so-called Hamburgler is an excellent roll model for children, glorifying crime and the sharing of food between a creepy clown and a wanted criminal. Then there was the kingpin himself, Ronald. Why the McDonalds corporation chose a clown to sell their magical Happy Meals to unsuspecting innocent children was just strange. Seriously, this group of suspects was a child molester's dream. As much as I hate to admit it, K-Fed is much more tame.
