Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Smoke Pot: It's Crazy Out There

Our screwed up society (or culture or civilization--call it what you will) seems to get worse and worse. No wonder there are so many suicides; surely there is a better place somewhere. I'm not advocating it, but those who choose it certainly do not deserve the label "mentally ill," which is how we, the living, have chosen to classify it. In fact, anyone who thinks life is fine and dandy these days really is mentally ill, or just not paying attention. Wait a minute--I have proof.

EXHIBIT A:
Burberry, that once-esteemed trench coat manufacturer, has come out with a new perfume called "My Burberry." The hot new ad campaign shows two female supermodels, one young and one older, both in raincoats, smooching each other up. Then it rains or something-- somehow they get wet--and they they take off their raincoats and hold them over their heads while holding each other close, and we are supposed to use our imaginations about them being naked, skin to skin, and run out and get some of this perfume so we can be naked with a beautiful woman. Or two. What? Is this ad aimed at lesbians? I guess so, since who else wants to smell like a trench coat? And why do people wear cologne and perfume anyway? What's wrong--do they have bad body odor? Is it to attract attention? What for? And how much are they willing to spend for such an unnecessary and downright gross product? Apparently a lot; it's between $95 and $125 for a teeny bottle of the stuff.

EXHIBIT B:
So a friend of mine was stopped for an overdue inspection sticker several months ago. While the officer was writing that up, he claimed that he smelled pot. Blah, blah, search the car, yada, yada--the next thing you know there's a court date two months into the future. The future is now. The punishment in West Bath, Maine for a cop finding not one bit of marijuana in the entire car but instead for finding a pipe with marijuana residue is a fine of $850.00 or 30 hours of community service. (That's like seven bottles of "My Burberry.")

If you ask me, people should be fined for wearing perfume in public. And cops should be forced to wear some so we can smell them coming.


Monday, September 15, 2014

Trolling for Bottom Feeders


I recently stumbled upon a way to get lots of readers. Now if I could just figure out how that does me any good, I would do it. It seems that all you have to do is have a beef with a celebrity, write about it in an insulting way, and then post it on that particular celebrity's Facebook page. This is something I did today concerning that horrid comedian, Kathy Griffin. Turns out she has lots of fans after all, people who actually enjoy her comedy albums with titles like, "Look At My Butt Crack."

Too bad I can't think of anyone else I dislike that much who would also have a huge fan base outraged by my criticism. For example, I dislike Obama almost as much as Kathy, but these days who doesn't? And then, why would I want people of that low caliber reading my blog? But if you are out there wanting to write a blog that gets a lot of traffic, take it from me--that's how to do it.

Another Kathy Griffin Putdown

The only time the loser named Kathy Griffin was ever sort of funny was on a particular Seinfeld episode, which of course was written by the brilliant Larry David so we know it had nothing to do with her besides her ability to read a script. Anyway, she played an annoying comedian wannabe -- so no acting was involved -- who made Jerry's life the subject of her comedy, lampooning him to her audiences in nightclubs and on TV.  It aired in 1998, which was the last time I ever thought about her until last week when Joan Rivers died and Kathy found another star to leech onto.

If I were so inclined, I could turn this blog--which is after all my own personal, unpaid forum-- into something similar: A new putdown of Kathy every day. I could write about her lack of material, her forays into plastic surgery and her pathetic attempts to be sexy. But mostly it would be about how she has glommed on to a dead person, in this case Joan Rivers, first in life and even more in death, to get herself known by a larger audience. In that vein she is without peer.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Kanye Says "Stand Up"


Remind me never to go to a Kanye West concert. Not that I would, except under duress. But it sounds more like doing community service than attending a recreational activity, at least according to an eyewitness account of Kanye demanding that the audience stand up and dance. When two people, both severely handicapped, did not because they could not, they were called to task by the performer.

Quelle cochon! What if people who are not handicapped just don't find his music all that infective? Do they have to stand up and dance around anyway? When I saw Jackson Browne a few weeks ago, he had the opposite problem: People were going so nuts, he had to ask the audience to sit down.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

The Islamic State Diet


I was hoping that maybe things are not as bad as I imagine them to be, but then the Wall Street Journal app sent out a Beheading Alert about the latest gruesome death of a British aid worker, with another one waiting in the wings. My husband's iPhone beeped as we were sitting down to dinner and I must say, the news drastically cut my appetite. I'm guessing I consumed half of what I would have normally.

If this business keeps up, I will reach my goal weight far sooner than expected. It's funny how every cloud really does have a silver lining.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Remembering 9/11


Yesterday I gorged on images from 9/11, starting bright and early with the real-time news on the "Today" show from way back then. I relived the horror along with Katy Couric and Matt Lauer as they watched things unfold, not knowing what would happen next even though I did. I found it thrilling in a perverse way. Still, it was footage I have seen every year for the last 12 years, and so I knew what was coming and there were no surprises. After an hour or so when the second tower finally fell I turned off the TV, hopped into the shower, and didn't give it another thought all day.

But then last night on the History Channel, I happened upon an incredible documentary called "102 Minutes that Changed America." It was a skillfully edited compilation of hundreds of raw amateur videos shot by New Yorkers who were in the wrong place at the wrong time: on Manhattan Island on September 11, 2001. There was footage I had never seen before, having somehow missed this film despite it having won an Emmy after its initial release in 2008.

It was scary and fascinating and intense. It made you cringe and gasp, putting you right there in the middle of things: the smoke, the flying debris, the falling bodies. The brave firemen walking into the death chamber. Thousands of people fleeing the devastation. A true nightmare. What it made me realize more than anything else is that while most of us go about living our merry lives, for others the horror that was 9/11 is not over and never will be, and I'm talking about the survivors. (The dead are dead; that was that for them.)

Anyone on the fence about how our government should handle the current threat posed by the terrorist organization known as ISIS should hunt this film down and watch it. Then decide.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Have a Heart

            Gordon Studer
Besides lobsters and cobblestone streets, the city of Portland has a lot of homeless people. Or else it has a lot of people claiming to be homeless -- one never knows. Either way, I figure if someone is out there with a sign in the rain and sun and sleet and snow, then even if they have a home they must be pretty desperate.

Still, I used to not give them anything thinking it would encourage them to stand around begging instead of taking action to better themselves. But lately I have started handing out a few dollars if I have some on me. I'm not sure why I do this, since a dollar is almost meaningless these days. And helping people in dire straits never makes me feel better about my own life, since no matter how much money I give away I will still have cataracts until I have the surgery, at which time I will have to give the surgeon way more money than I give the needy.

It just seems like the thing to do right now.