And That's One to Grow On...

If you're in my generational cohort, you probably spent a good deal of your just-out-of-college time watching shows like Melrose Place and Beverly Hills 90210 ("Bev Niner"). My favorite part of Bev Niner was always that once-per-month episode where The Kids From 90210 Learn About [poverty, racism, homophobia, eating disorders, drug abuse] And Help Someone Along The Way.
I waited expectantly for that episode every time because I knew it would be annoying, contrived, borderline offensive in its cluelessness and unintentionally funny in all the wrong ways, kind of like Tori Spelling herself.

I mean, yes, you could argue that Bev Niner was simply mining a well-worn TV series plot structure, but at least Laura Ingalls lived in the same kind of log cabin and took the same kind of lunch pail to school as the kids she learned lessons about. At least John Boy and Jim Bob Walton wore overalls 24/6 (they wore proper britches to go to church on Sunday, I'm sure), just like their kinfolk and classmates. The reason 90210 was so laughably annoying was that they'd find a way for Tori Spelling "Donna" to meet some inner-city girl with a heart of gold working at the local supermarket who inadvertently reveals to Donna that she is being abused/threatened with death by gunshot/afraid of the gangs on her street/being pressured to have sex-crack-whatever, and Donna just can't sleep at night thinking of this girl and so looks her up and goes to her house to "help" her where (OF COURSE!) the story becomes All About Donna, who is threatened with death by gunshot/afraid of the gangs on her street/being pressured to have sex-crack-whatever, but escapes and finds a way for the Inner City Girl With A Heart of Gold to get a job at the 90210 Dean and Deluca, thereby saving her from her old job at the Price Chopper in Compton. Inner City Girl is grateful, "doesn't know how to thank" Donna enough, goes on, we can only assume, to a life of ease and financial freedom as the manager of said Dean and Deluca, and, once again, The Kids From 90210 have learned a valuable lesson about being caring and compassionate.

Which is why I loved this post at Best Week Ever about movie stars inspiring and helping gangs of unruly thugs and drug dealers:

Movie Stars Teach Us So Much

Jesus Loves the Red Sox

While we're on the topic of the presumptuous human interpretation of God's word, I offer you this from the good people at bustedtees.com:

The War on Christianity, DeLay-Style

Tom DeLay, the clearly shameless malefactor from Congress, delivered a speech to a crowd of about 300 attending a conference titled "The War on Christians and the Values Voter in 2006."

DeLay gave a rousing sermon-like speech that outlined the "War on Christianity" in America today. DeLay said, "we have been chosen to live as Christians at a time when our culture is being poisoned. ... God made us specifically for it. ... Jesus Christ himself made us just so that we could live in this nation at this time."

Wow. That's pretty heady stuff from a mere mortal, to venture a guess as to why God has put him on the earth, and to have that guess be "to represent God's viewpoint." But by far the best and richest quote came from a Reverend Rick Scarborough, who told the audience "This is a man, I believe, God has appointed ... to represent righteousness in government."

Reeeaaaallly?!!! Surely that comment drew laughter, or maybe just some snickers, or perhaps even just some under the breath chortling? Nope! Scarborough said DeLay had been "nearly destroyed in the press," and that he shouldn't worry about his re-election campaign. After all, "God always does his best work after a crucifixion."

So let me get this straight. Hillary uses the word "plantation" and it goes three news cycles, but Tom DeLay's supporter compares his legal and ethical troubles with the crucifixion of the Savior, and not a peep out of Bill O'Reilly?! Curious, isn't it?

The Rev. Barry Lynn, who heads Americans United for Separation of Church and State, said "what you have here are second-tier preachers who are hoping to hit the big time, desperately hoping for a national spotlight..." by trumping up some "war on Christianity."

Let's be honest. How can there be a war against 76% of the US population?* Who is carrying out this war? The 1% Jews, the 1% Muslims, the 2% Mormons, the 10% "other" or the 10% "none"? Even if every Jew, Muslim, Latter Day Saint, Hindu, Sikh, Zoroastrian, atheist and agnostic teamed up, we'd still only be 24% against 76%. And that is 76% of people with not only the Father but the Son AND the Holy Spirit on their side, mind you.

We're no match for those odds, surely...

*http://www.nationmaster.com/country/us/rel

Ten Ways Dems Can Win in 2008: Number One

Number 1 in a series of potentially winning ideas:

Scalia Flips the Sicilian Bird

From the Boston Herald, this enjoyable nugget regarding His Excellency the Most Very Honorable Antonin Scalia, protector of religious values in America:

Minutes after receiving the Eucharist at a special Mass for lawyers and politicians at Cathedral of the Holy Cross, U.S. Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia had a special blessing of his own for those who question his impartiality when it comes to matters of church and state.
“You know what I say to those people?” Scalia, 70, replied, making an obscene gesture under his chin when asked by a Herald reporter if he fends off a lot of flak for publicly celebrating his conservative Roman Catholic beliefs.
“That’s Sicilian,” the Italian jurist said, interpreting for the “Sopranos” challenged.
“It’s none of their business,” continued Scalia, who was the keynote speaker at yesterday’s Catholic Lawyers’ Guild luncheon. “This is my spiritual life. I shall lead it the way I like.”
The conduct unbecoming a 20-year veteran of the country’s highest court - and just feet from the Mother Church’s altar - was captured by a photographer for the Archdiocese of Boston newspaper The Pilot, whose publisher is newly minted Cardinal Sean O’Malley.

Oh To Be Worthy of Umberto...

Another reason I've been a bad blogger lately?

Umberto Eco. Author of The Name of the Rose, Foucault's Pendulum and other dense but satisfying works over the years. This time, courtesy of the inimitable BB, I have been slogging my way through "The Island of the Day Before."

Oh Dear God. Y'all. It's been my second job getting through this book. Why? I'll put it this way: I'm on page 265 and it is still not clear what in sam hill is going on. I was thinking lo around Page 100, as I have thought while reading other Eco books, that perhaps I am not bright enough to be entrusted with Umberto's ouevre. It's not the verbiage. I, more than your average person, love books with words like, "venenific unguents" "antipodal meridian" or "peregrinations." It's not the vocabulary. It's that I'm more than half way through the book and I'm wondering if anyone knows enough Italian, Latin and medieval history in advance to competently navigate this tome.

The New York Times reviewer gushed the following: "Every age gets the classics it deserves. I hope we deserve 'The Island of the Day Before'."

Hmm. Guess not...

Lazy Blogger. Blame the Brits.

It's been a few days since my last post. The reason? One word: MI-5. The BBC show about the sort of UK version of the FBI. I saw it once when I was in London for work (under the British title "Spooks" which doesn't really work in the USA for obvious reasons) and almost considered moving there to see more of it. Luckily for me, there is Netflix, glorious Netflix! So instead of blogging, I've been watching entire seasons of MI-5. Sorry.

Check it out for yourself: BBC-Spooks

Anthrax Redux

So.

Is anyone else wondering what ever happened to the anthrax investigation?

As you'll recall, five people died of the inhaled form of anthrax and 13 others suffered anthrax infections after the October through November 2001 rash of anthrax-laced mailings to the media, Congress, and some private citizens.

As CNN reported, "The anthrax deaths underscored the fact that even the most powerful nation on Earth was not immune to bioterrorism and raised the question of whether the United States has a domestic terrorist within its midst." In a March 2002 CNN report, Barbara Rosenberg, a microbiologist with the State University of New York at Purchase, accused the FBI of stalling to protect government secrets.

"There may be embarrassing information connected with the entire event and there may not be real enthusiasm about bringing this information out to the public," she said. "The FBI hotly rejects such suggestions."

Okay, so what were the FBI's findings, then? It's been FOUR YEARS!

Just wondering...

Gridiron Indigestion

A good friend recently attended the Gridiron Dinner, that annual bash thrown by journos at which the POTUS and VPOTUS show up and do a comedy routine written by someone else. Helen Thomas, that Paris Hilton wannabe, invariably shows up in some down-to-there-up-to-here outfit that forces Don Rumsfeld to keep focusing on baseball, baseball, baseball... Well, maybe not. But you get the point; it's the night when both the media and the politicians are supposed to let themselves hang loose.

When I asked my friend whether the evening (and Bush and Cheney) were as funny as the reports made them sound, she said the following:

"They WERE funny. All those jokes about Cheney's approval ratings being at 18% and the ongoing bad relations with the American people were hilarious. Hilarious, that is, if these people weren't actually running the country!"

She nailed it. It would be funny if it were not actually true.

TSA Bombs at Security Duties

Security screeners at 21 airports across the United States failed to detect materials that could be used to make bombs in recent tests by government agents, US legislators said.

"The fact that government investigators were able to pass through TSA's (Transportation Security Administration) screening at 21 major airports with bomb-making material is frightening," representative Bennie Thompson, a member of the Committee on Homeland Security, said in a statement.

"It's like the story of the Trojan Horse," he added. "TSA has spent so much time telling people to take off their shoes and belts, that they have missed the bomb-making materials."

That last sentence nails the problem. Our airport security system is a joke. We feel safer because we are being inconvenienced, but these results show that we are, in fact, less safe. Why? Because isn't it more dangerous to feel safe when you are not? At least when you know people might get bombs onto planes, you travel with a realistic sense of things; when you think the good people at TSA care about your safe return home, you are less likely to report suspicious things or people, and less likely to be vigilant in the first place. Let's stop kidding ourselves.

And here's an idea--how about we focus on the millions of unchecked loads of cargo coming into our country via our ports? If I'm a terrorist, I'm thinking the whole plane/bomb/hijack thing has been done. Much more deadly and well, terror-inspiring, to kill Americans on American soil right on the ground FROM the ground. But I suppose I shouldn't worry. George Bush will protect me.

Technical difficulties, a new blog, and a Nose Picking Update

Had some troubles with Blogger and couldn't get anything to post to SSHaggis, so happy-happy-joy-joy it's working today!

In other news, the latest blogging enterprise is available at www.goodgriefblog.blogspot.com. Some days all I felt like writing about was my dad, and some days I really, really wanted to blog about something-anything-else. But I don't want to have a string of posts on the same topic in SS Haggis, no matter how much the topic seems paramount in my mind at the time. So the solution was Good Grief, which I hope will have a team of contributors posting their insights into grief, how to identify its often hidden signs (a quart of Haagen Dazs every night, anyone?), how to let it happen even when you kind of don't think you can deal with it happening, and how, ultimately, to live the life your loved one would have wanted you to.

Or maybe it will be crap. Who knows? But there it is if you're interested.

Now, Bob Costas is joining us for a moment to update us on the Nose Picking Olympics. Bob?

Thanks E. In the annals of the nose picking olympics there has never been a story like that of The Bambina's. Her truly courageous and inspired performances here at these proceedings have touched the hearts of so many (even the French, perhaps the world's foremost nose pickers), however undone they were in the Nose Picking 100 meter dash by the Scottish team last week. The Bambina's breakout moment? Her spectacular performance in today's 600 meter relay, an event in which she had not previously competed. That's right, E. For the first time in Bambina history, she not only picked boogers out of her nose, but she perfected the skill of now PROUDLY HANDING IT to someone else. The handoff of the booger baton was seamless, skillful and graceful. This girl has a future.

Back to you, E.

Thanks, Bob.

Feminine Hygiene Circa 1950's.

And you thought this era's ads for "pantyliners with wings" were embarrassing!

Lysol

That Dog Won't Hunt

Or..is this site for real? Anyone?

DogCondoms

Kid Tested, Grandma Approved

Remember that old Saturday Night Live skit with Candice Bergen and Dan Aykroyd as Irwin Mainway, creator of dangerous kiddie toys?

Consumer Reporter: Alright. Fine. Fine. Well, we'd like to show you another one of Mr. Mainway's products. It retails for $1.98, and it's called Bag O' Glass. Mr. Mainway, this is simply a bag of jagged, dangerous, glass bits....

Irwin Mainway: Yeah, well, look - you know, the average kid, he picks up, you know, broken glass anywhere, you know? The beach, the street, garbage cans, parking lots, all over the place in any big city. We're just packaging what the kids want! I mean, it's a creative toy, you know?...

Consumer Reporter: So, you don't feel that this product is dangerous?

Irwin Mainway: No! Look, we put a label on every bag that says, "Kid! Be careful - broken glass!" I mean, we sell a lot of products in the "Bag O'" line.. like Bag O' Glass, Bag O' Nails, Bag O' Bugs, Bag O' Vipers, Bag O' Sulfuric Acid. They're decent toys, you know what I mean?

Well, I'd like to now add something to this list, courtesy of MY MOM and HER TEMPLE!! Yeah, it's called "Bag O' Plagues" and it is a toy for children of all ages. She and my niece went to her Temple's Purim Carnival yesterday and brought home a kiddie Seder plate for The Bambina (basically a soft plate with pretend food on it)...and Bag O' Plagues, a small collection of all the plagues visited upon Egypt in Exodus. How nice is that?! It's got a sticky, jelly-like hand with boils on it, a little cow with some goopy stuff on it, disappearing red ink for the blood in the water, etc etc.

And of course, my three year old niece LOVES it! Good to see Irwin Mainway has moved into the Jewish market.

What Do You Do When Your Nose Goes on Strike?

Pick it!

This is The Bambina's new motto. She's clearly a union girl.

I can't tell how it started, whether it was my "bff" C in Boston who jokingly showed her how to do it, or whether it was me a month or so ago when she had some big crusties hanging out causing her to make the nose whistle noise and so I just pulled them out with my fingers. Or whether it is some innate habit (which I always thought was autosomal dominant only in Scottish men) that humans are compelled to try until society shames you out of it. I don't know. All I know is that my sweet, cute, lovely, adorable daughter is the Nadia Comaneci of nose picking right now, and it is making me crazy.

We went into the Sizzling Express (our preferred location for Bambina junk food) where the staff always oooh and aaah over her. No exception last week as the cashier was all, "oh wow she's so cute!" I was saying "oh thank you; that's very kind" as I caught a glimpse of my little cutie pie with one eye on the cashier and one eye on me, with her finger jammed first-knuckle-deep into her wee little nose, and a glint in her eye that said, "HA HA Mama! Made you look!!" I realized that she is now picking solely for my benefit on most occasions, trying to see if I'll swoop in with a tissue and a "tut-tut-no picking!" So now my challenge is to simply let her pick her nose while I fail to notice said picking even as the general public is noticing me not noticing my child picking and wondering what kind of nose picker wouldn't notice her kid picking her nose...

Welcome to the Terrible Twos, Mama. Unfortunately, unlike my child's labor-management independently mediated contract, mine does not allow picking--or drinking--on the job.

The Clothes Make The Man

Yeah yeah, that is supposedly not true, in terms of someone being more than their outward appearance may indicate. But let’s examine the statement from another angle: the ability of clothing, haberdashery, garments to make a person seem real, tangible and present. One example is at Graceland where all of Elvis’ famously garish outfits are on display. When you look at them your mind’s eye sees him wearing them; they evoke his image. Another example is at the US Holocaust Museum here in DC where there is a room that is nothing but wall to wall and floor to ceiling shoes. The shoes all belonged to victims of the Holocaust, and almost nothing in the world makes such a horrifying yet abstract atrocity more real and present and soul-touching than seeing the actual shoes of actual murdered people: men, women and children. It is exactly and precisely the shoes that make the people real.

Another example is my mom and dad’s place. I didn’t understand before today why my mom was packing my dad’s clothes into suitcases to get them out of the closet. I was thinking it was a bit fast, a bit soon, but was essentially telling myself I was okay with whatever she thought she needed to do. Today, however, I opened her coat closet and saw the blue denim flannel shirt that my dad always, always, always wore as a pseudo-jacket. Still on the hanger, bearing all the un-crisp, un-laundered, shaped-to-fit hallmarks of a shirt just waiting for its owner to come back and settle comfortably into it once again. I almost fell backward with the wave of grief that washed over me simply because in looking at that shirt I saw the shape of his shoulders, the buttons always undone to reveal one of his funny/silly/un-pc T-shirts, the sleeves still rolled up to their exact, preferred location on his arms. I saw *him* in that shirt like I had done thousands of times before. I knew that if I stepped a little closer I would probably be able to smell his aftershave too. I had to close the closet door and walk away swiftly to avoid completely losing my sh*t in front of The Bambina.

So there, in the presence of a simple, average, everyday shirt, I finally understood why my mom was packing them up. Clothes; worn, rumpled, lived-in clothes that seem to live on even when those who wore them do not, can be either warmly comforting or exquisitely painful depending on the recency of the loss. I know that someday I will find it funny to ponder purchasing the right sized mannequins to wear his various threads when I open The Wee Fat Scotsman Museum and Whiskey Lounge, but right now it’s too soon feel anything but heartache when I catch a glimpse of the clothes that made the man.

Out to Lunch.

In the meantime, for your personal edification:

Today in history, courtesy of The History Channel

March 9

1841 Supreme Court rules on Amistad mutiny

At the end of a historic case, the U.S. Supreme Court rules, with only one dissent, that the African slaves who seized control of the Amistad slave ship had been illegally forced into slavery, and thus are free under American law.

In 1807, the U.S. Congress joined with Great Britain in abolishing the African slave trade, although the trading of slaves within the U.S. was not prohibited. Despite the international ban on the importation of African slaves, Cuba continued to transport captive Africans to its sugar plantations until the 1860s, and Brazil to its coffee plantations until the 1850s.

On June 28, 1839, 53 slaves recently captured in Africa left Havana, Cuba, aboard the Amistad schooner for a life of slavery on a sugar plantation at Puerto Prýncipe, Cuba. Three days later, Sengbe Pieh, a Membe African known as Cinque, freed himself and the other slaves and planned a mutiny. Early in the morning of July 2, in the midst of a storm, the Africans rose up against their captors and, using sugar-cane knives found in the hold, killed the captain of the vessel and a crewmember. Two other crewmembers were either thrown overboard or escaped, and Jose Ruiz and Pedro Montes, the two Cubans who had purchased the slaves, were captured. Cinque ordered the Cubans to sail the Amistad east back to Africa. During the day, Ruiz and Montes complied, but at night they would turn the vessel in a northerly direction, toward U.S. waters. After almost nearly two difficult months at sea, during which time more than a dozen Africans perished, what became known as the "black schooner" was first spotted by American vessels.

On August 26, the USS Washington, a U.S. Navy brig, seized the Amistad off the coast of Long Island and escorted it to New London, Connecticut. Ruiz and Montes were freed, and the Africans were imprisoned pending an investigation of the Amistad revolt. The two Cubans demanded the return of their supposedly Cuban-born slaves, while the Spanish government called for the Africans' extradition to Cuba to stand trial for piracy and murder. In opposition to both groups, American abolitionists advocated the return of the illegally bought slaves to Africa.

The story of the Amistad mutiny garnered widespread attention, and U.S. abolitionists succeeded in winning a trial in a U.S. court. Before a federal district court in Connecticut, Cinque, who was taught English by his new American friends, testified on his own behalf. On January 13, 1840, Judge Andrew Judson ruled that the Africans were illegally enslaved, that they would not be returned to Cuba to stand trial for piracy and murder, and that they should be granted free passage back to Africa. The Spanish authorities and U.S. President Martin Van Buren appealed the decision, but another federal district court upheld Judson's findings. President Van Buren, in opposition to the abolitionist faction in Congress, appealed the decision again.

On February 22, 1841, the U.S. Supreme Court began hearing the Amistad case. U.S. Representative John Quincy Adams of Massachusetts, who served as the sixth president of the United States from 1825 to 1829, joined the Africans' defense team. In Congress, Adams had been an eloquent opponent of slavery, and before the nation's highest court he presented a coherent argument for the release of Cinque and the 34 other survivors of the Amistad.

On March 9, 1841, the Supreme Court ruled that the Africans had been illegally enslaved and had thus exercised a natural right to fight for their freedom. In November, with the financial assistance of their abolitionist allies, the Amistad Africans departed America aboard the Gentleman on a voyage back to West Africa. Some of the Africans helped establish a Christian mission in Sierra Leone, but most, like Cinque, returned to their homelands in the African interior. One of the survivors, who was a child when taken aboard the Amistad as a slave, eventually returned to the United States. Originally named Margru, she studied at Ohio's integrated and coeducational Oberlin College in the late 1840s, before returning to Sierra Leone as evangelical missionary Sara Margru Kinson.

Absolut Deterioration

If you've ever wondered what 20 years of hard drinking does to a person, wonder no more:

Scroll down to see Eddie Van Halen back in the day


Eddie two nights ago:


Maybe I'm just mad at Eddie for making me feel so old, since I remember distinctly thinking he was cute---yikes---twenty years ago...

Meanwhile Back in California...

As the Austrians debate Holocaust deniers and free expression, California's Supreme Court was busy ruling on oral sex with minors. God Bless America! Land that I Love! (But not under age 17).

Thankfully, they ruled that both were similar. The dissenting judge, however, said that oral sex with minors ought to be treated differently than intercourse with minors because one can get you pregnant while the other cannot. Riiiight. Because a 40 year old man having oral sex with my 13 year old daughter is no big deal, just as long as they don't have actual sex?! Please. That is asinine. Notwithstanding my adoration for Bill Clinton, oral sex is sex. Really.

If you don't agree, then perhaps you haven't been doing it right.

KION46

Free Speech--Even for Evil People

Last week an Austrian court sentenced Holocaust denier David Irving to three years in jail for his statements alleging that the Holocaust didn't happen.

Is it wrong--especially as a Jewish person--to go on record defending his right to say so without threat of incarceration?

He's a lunatic. A scary, insane, freakjob of a lunatic. But I don't think I'm alone in being concerned whenever anyone pats AUSTRIA on the back for jailing people for their words. Austria. Birthplace of Adolf Hitler. Formerly vibrant Jewish population until it was obliterated by the thousands of Austrians who collaborated with the Nazis. I understand why they want to now control such dangerous hatemongering, but the result is not more freedom and safety for Jews or anyone else; it's just a new reality wherein the Austrian government can jail you for saying something they deem to be offensive. No thanks.

It's the mother of all slippery slopes, and all it will take is another type of Austrian government to decide that This or That (which we happen to agree with) now needs to be censored via the criminal justice system. The choice is clear: we either have free speech, even for evil, insane and horrible people, or we allow the government of the day to decide what is allowable and what is not, in exchange for our short-term comfort.

I choose a world with David Irving. Because then I can identify, quarantine and discredit him. If he's too afraid of jail to say what he thinks, then how will I ever know that his kind of evil exists? Let him self-identify so we can call him out, not with jail time but with massive public opprobrium.

Free speech--even for evil a**holes. It's the American way, y'all!

I'll Have What South Dakota's Having...

Riiiight. So the Governor of South Dakota has just signed into a law an almost-total ban on abortion in that state. It makes no distinction for cases of rape or incest; only for the "life of the mother."

One wonders if Governor Rounds has any women in his life whom he loves. I further wonder if Governor Rounds had a daughter who was impregnated by a rapist, whether he'd so blithely sign such a bill forcing her to give birth to the product of such a horrifying ordeal.

I also wonder whether Governor Rounds has a freakin' clue about Politics 101. Does he realize that he is pushing the envelope even for the "pro life" movement? A federal appeals court is going to issue an injunction on the South Dakota law, and the Supreme Court is going to refuse to review it, thereby *strengthening* Roe v. Wade.

So, to my pro-choice mind, I say "have at it Governor Rounds." Go for it. Make it a law. May you live to regret reinforcing Roe v. Wade with your stupid law, and may your daughter live to not need an exception to it.

Security is Everyone's Business

I was in Union Station yesterday with the family where we passed a large unattended wheelie suitcase situated literally in the middle of the station concourse.

Yep, unattended.
For about 5-8 minutes.

After watching person after person (including red caps) walk past it nonchalantly for about 3 minutes, I decided that it was weird enough that I should let the Amtrak police know. When they approached it, a woman came running over from about 20 feet away to claim it, which precipitated the lecture about leaving bags unattended. So, luckily no drama.

But here's the thing: that bag was in the middle of the concourse. Not off to the side, not even kind of off to the side. The woman left it front and center in the concourse, and hundreds of people just wheeled themselves around it to get on their trains or to get their Big Macs.

In Union Station.
Three blocks from the US Capitol.
In the direct center of Washington DC, USA.

My mom said, "but if someone was going to do something bad, they wouldn't leave the bag right in the middle of the floor; they'd have to hide it somewhere." To which I replied, "Apparently not!" We are apparently so emotionally afraid of terrorism but so practically apathetic to its possibility, that a 42 inch suitcase can sit unattended for 8 minutes in a busy train station within spitting distance of the US Capitol and we just maneuver ourselves around it without noticing something so suspicious and out of the ordinary.

But god forbid the UAE run our ports, huh? That would compromise our security.

Only a Few More Shopping Days Till My Birthday...

..and I will personally mouth kiss the person who actually buys me this book. I kept thinking it was a joke site, but it is the real deal. ;)

Why Mommy Is A Democrat

Philip Seymour Who?

This is too freakin' funny especially if, like me, you are completely out of the loop on all things Oscar:

The WVSR's Oscar Picks

Random Friday Post

I recognize that most of us look muuuuch better than we did when we were teens or pre-teens. But sometimes you just KNOW that someone has had a little "help," don't you? I give you, as evidence, a photo of the Simpson sisters. You cannot tell me that their facial structures are not entirely different today than in this photo.

What's my point in discussing two nonsense celebrities and their "metamorphoses"? None. I just felt like concentrating on some people who are smarter and better informed than our President, who you just know when they said that the levees would break was wondering how you break a pair of jeans.

photo courtesy of perezhilton.com

The Walk of Wiggle Shame

There is a new rule in Casa de Haggis. If you find yourself singing a Wiggles song when not actively and intentionally engaged with a child you have to run around the dining room table with your fingers in the L shape, singing "I'm a Loser" to the tune of Toot Toot Chugga Chugga Big Red Car. "Toot Toot chugga chugga I'm a loser; I'm a loser near and a loser fa-a-a-r; toot toot chugga chugga I'm a loser, I'm a loser the whole day long..."

This draconian measure was implemented when it became clear that certain adults were finding themselves quietly singing, "Get Ready to Wiggle" long after The Bambina was asleep, while cooking dinner. This state of affairs could not be tolerated and corrective, public-shaming measures were enacted, hence the Loser Laps around the table.

Further public shaming measures are being considered in light of the Baby Daddy's question, "But is it okay to have Wiggles thoughts?"

Gimme three laps, ya big loser!

ps--perhaps we should develop a persona for a fifth wiggle. We'll name him Loser Wiggle and he'll wear the khaki colored shirt and his special talent will be drooling.

Uh-oh. That ps just earned me five laps...

Presidential Prognostication

On the heels of my stellar Rose Bowl and Super Bowl prognostications I am going balls out and saying the following:

Mark Warner will be the Democratic nominee for President in 2008.

Ask me why.