Thursday, May 24, 2007

It Must Be a Pretty Uncomfortable Day in the White House...

Mary Cheney has just given birth to a son. As you can tell from the photo with his proud new grandparents, this baby is obviously very unhappy about the fact that his mother is a lesbo. Or it could just be that babies cry over everything. Who knows. I'm sure the Republicans are gonna go with the former on that, though.

I don't really care about politics or anything, but I just LOVE how uncomfortable this has to make everyone in the Bush Administration. I can just see them now. Does it have 10 fingers and 10 toes? Two eyes? Really? I thought it would look different from other babies. You know, because Mary's a lesbian.

The most important question I have regarding this is: is President Bush going to send Mary and her partner Heather flowers, or a passport to hell? If he goes with the flowers option, what would the card say? Congratulations! Just remember, same-sex parents are t
otally incapable of raising children! Love, George and Laura. Seriously, though. While Mary and Heather are capable, successful, and responsible adults, there's no way they can end up raising a healthy, well-adjusted kid. I mean, you need a mother and a father. Let's take a look at some awesome examples of heterosexual parenting:

Paris Hilton: Mom Kathy and Dad Richard have done an excellent job of raising Paris. Growing up in a world of spectacular wealth and privelige has afforded Paris all of the opportunities in the world, and yet she decided to forgo graduating high school (she got her GED!), college, and philanthrophy and decided to devote her time to other endeavors, such as starring in awful horror films, moonlighting as a singer, making a sex tape, and getting arrested instead. Awesome job, hetero parents!

Erik and Lyle Menendez: Sons to affluent record executive Jose and housewife Kitty Menendez, these youngsters watched first-hand what hard work and some good ol' gumption will get you. A life of wealth and opportunity. But that wasn't enough for Erik and Lyle, as they decided that they would kill their parents for money. Fantastic.

Obviously, the list goes on, but you get the idea. You need both a mother and a father, otherwise your kids could turn into uneducated sluts or murderous pyschopaths. And we wouldn't want that would we? Right? No child left behind, is what I say!

Oh my God, I'm really not THIS Liberal, I'm just bitter. I'm not knocking ALL heterosexual parents (hey, mine are staight... I think), but let's have a little perspective here. Parenting is hard. It has nothing to do with whether you're gay or straight, it has everything to do with whether or not you have the extreme amount of patience needed to get your kids through school and into the real world in (relatively) one piece. I know I don't have it, but that's not because I'm a lez, that's just because I'm an asshole. Case closed.

Labels: ,

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

OMG Rosie O'Donnell, Shut Up! (vol. 3)

So I've been horrible about updating lately and that's because I've been so busy doing nothing. I've been home for two and a half weeks and while I've done nothing, I still like to trick myself into thinking that I'm busy.

Example: "Uggggggggggh... I have to go to Blockbuster and then I have to come home and watch the movies I rented and return themmmm..." It's a never-ending cycle.

Anyway, I decided that I should do one more Rosie update before she leaves The View and thus loses her forum for crazy bitching.

Basically, a few days ago, Rosie and Elisabeth (Queen of the Vapid) got into a spat when Rosie insinuated that American troops are terrorists. Well, she didn't actually say that, but that's what she meant. And I can see her point, but the problem is, she doesn't know how to explain opinions clearly and succinctly, so instead of coming off as someone from a valid Liberal viewpoint, she comes off as a moron.

What Rosie wanted to say was that from an Iraqi's viewpoint, we are the terrorists. Afterall, we're blowing up their country and killing their people. And for the most part, that state
ment is probably true for most people living in Iraq. But we've got Rosie "I've Got No Tact" O'Donnell saying, "WHO ARE THE TERRORISTS?" And then of course, Republican Elisabeth jumps in and says, "OMG HOW CAN U SAY THAT WE R TERRORISTS ROSIE I HATE U!"

Moral of the story, I hate The View, but Rosie gets ratings, and no one is going to give a shit about The Viewonce she's gone unless they hire someone just as controversial/crazy. My suggestion: Whitney Houston. Come on, she's someone even less articulate than Rosie, and she can offer the viewpoint of a crazy, drug-addicted diva/battered wife who's career is in the toilet. It'll be awesome.

PS: Don't you think it's ironic that Rosie is selling t-shirts on her website that say "PEACE" on them when all she does is start fights? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love acrimony, but way to be a hypocrite, O'Donnell. You know that fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity, right?


Thursday, May 03, 2007

Nobody Loves a Slinky

Because I'm a drunk, I use practically every occasion as a reason to throw a party and get toasted. Finished that Ethics paper? Have a few beers! Got out of that DUI charge? Let's do shots! But seeing as my globetrotting friends decided to return to the US for a visit, I figure
d that was actually a real reason to throw a party.

Now, let's just say that it was quite interesting trying to obtain alcohol before I turned 21 (read: I went to the sketchy gas station who's proprietors were in absolutely no position to ask me for my ID, if you know what I mean). But now that I'm legal and all, I can shop at the nicer gas station and get indignant when someone gives me a hard time. Yes, I'm aware that I look like I'm fifteen years old, but that is my real ID, asshole.

HOWEVER, thanks to the ridiculous "policy" at Mobil on the Run, Tim and I had to gallivant around Poughkeepsie looking for beer. Apparently, if you're helping
an elderly person (i.e.: a 21 year old) carry a 24 pack of beer up to the counter, you have to show ID too, otherwise, you can't buy beer, period. Funny, because I thought you had to be 18 to transport alcohol. Whatever.

Ultimately, we went to some beverage discount center that didn't even ID me, and when I put the 36 and 18 packs down on the counter, the cashier exclaimed "Damn, girl! You ain't fuckin' around!" Indeed.

Fast forward to the party and we've got an agitated Jill Price, who I'm begging not to throw her glass of wine in the face of some jackass friend of a friend's friend.

Things to know about Jill Price:
  • she's loud
  • she's out of control
  • she's LOUD
  • never tell her to "relax," "chill," or "calm down" if you'd like to live through the night
Unfortunately, the friend of a friend wasn't familiar with these rules and ended up starting a brawl.

While I am particularly fond of the friend of a friend (Andrew), the other one, nicknamed "Slinky" for unknown reasons, made me want to kill someone. No- not everyone loves a slinky, as we all found out this weekend.

Here's a video of Jill slapping him in the face. It's poor quality, but just listen to the audio: Jill screaming, Gabe trying to calm her down, and me declaring that she is "really funny."

After the slap-fest, I was looking very forward to a fresh night of partying, but this jackass Slinky took my beer and gave it to every girl at the party in hopes of scoring with someone (read: no one). Listen, buddy- if I wanted to give my beer to some random chicks, I would have done it myself.

I finally stopped him from stealing my beer by hiding it upstairs where Kari and Melissa were camped out, because, as they said, they were "creeped out by the creeps."

On the way out, we found our hero passed out on the couch. Must have been all of that beer you drank...

Labels: ,