The things you do for love

I have an idea.

I want you to withhold enjoying some of your favortite things.
Whether they be,

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings

I am asking you to deny yourself these desired things.

Okay, maybe not receiving brown paper packages for a few days, or cooking out of stainless steel over copper kettles, wouldn't bust your chops, so those don't count.

I want you to deny what you really love, to prove your love.
Not for a day, or a week, or a month, but for 39, no, round it to 40 days.

Angry yet? Cranky and hateful for missing the morning java for 3 fortnights?
Do your co-workers wish for you to take PTO days to "chill out?" Stll out there chasing pavement?

Does every waking moment make you sing, "I hate this part right here, I just can't take these tears?"

GOOD!

Now I have you where I want you. Let's just call this feeling "love".

Now go indulge yourself. Thanks for proving your love.

Why must one have to suffer for love?

Couldn't a simple, "he went to Jarrods" and "I love you" do?
I'm just saying...

Put a lid on her

I need a Beyonce-cation. I am full full full of the "Single Lady" trying to put a ring on every damn TV awards show, dressed horribly in some "House of Dereon" creation that will become an instant hand-me-down to poor old Solange, or worse yet, in a barely there baton-twirling unitard outfit that exposes more than Dateline does on "To Catch a Predator." There's your predator Dateline! Sasha Fierce is eating all the opportunities for other, dare I say, "more talented, under acknowledged" singers out there. She's like the Heid and Spencer of the awards show circuit!

Sure we've seen this happen a couple of times now in B.'s life, the latest with Michelle and Kelly being moved off the stage so the Diva could go solo, but lately the tempo of her stiletto heels gyrating on an awards' stage has quickened to the speed of a "Halo" remix. Couldn't an actual Oscar winner have performed, like, um, say....Jennifer Hudson? Annie Lennox? Three6Mafia even? How about a throw back to the original Dreamgirl, Diana R.? Who wouldn't have gone GaGa for the Lady to sing with Hugh and Zac?

Beyonce just feels like an easy cop out; somewhat like her dress, "here, let's salute the Von Trapp's and make a dress out of the curtains." I can understand the logic, somewhat, "Press" does equate to, well, "Press" these days. Some producer somewhere was saying, "Oh, let's just put B. out there, in another tacky outfit, that'll keep people talking till we can get JLo back on the circuit."

And thus another Beyonce performance was hatched. Where's that attention whore Madonna when you really need her?

Is Gary Hart racist?

Monkey references + anything = racist.

I always hated new math.

IMHO, something does not compute in that equation, BUT...according to the Rev. Sharpton and others, any educated person would see the obvious and blatant racial overtures expressed when a monkey is used as an image; the monkey is a thinly veiled reference to black Americans.

Uh-oh! I don't see that, implicitly or explicitly, with every use of a simian image. Now I feel embarrassed, as I thought I was (my degree says so...) an educated person.

Mr. Holder just expressed that Americans are cowards and afraid to discuss race here in the U.S.... Yeah? Hello? Are you missing the cartoon debate? Why do you think it is a little unnerving to dip a toe into race issues when the proverbial race card can be pulled at any minute by someone who interprets a situation in a certain way, and if you don't see it the same way, you become ignorant or racist?

A whole community is attempting to sue a 17-year old girl for offending them with a photo that they felt was expressly done to harm them, claiming (she) "acted in conscious disregard for the rights of her Asian Pacific Islander fans". I thought she was just being Miley. She's got a tough fan club!

This race issue is...hhhmmm, how could one d-e-l-i-c-a-t-e-l-y say, the 500 pound gorilla in the room , the white elephant , CRAP! How do you say it when you just want to say it without offending anyone?

Was George Michael racist when he sang about the "monkey on his back?"
Are gymnasts who play on monkey bars supporting racism?
Is "Planet of the Apes" racist?
Was "BJ and the Bear" secretly supporting slavery?

Perhaps we should just pick on horses for awhile.

No Sap Here!

As symbolic and timely as celebrating MLK Day was to the celebrating the inauguration of Barack Obama was in January, I noticed a similar serendipitous situation with Friday the 13th and Valentine's Day being back to back. This coupling is better than Lucy and Ethel, chocolate and peanut butter (back when it wasn't such a killer) or Kelly Clarkson and Max Martin- and that is really saying something(...saying something- bop bop shoo be do-wah)!

The irony of a bad luck day paired with the day of cupids, chocolate and roses just feels right, kind of like how the friends who set up Rihanna and Chris Brown used to feel. You've got bad luck and love, back-2-back, the inspiration for 95% of poems and music!

For many, they are both days of dread.

First there is this inane fear of 13. Deal with it peeps. Always going to appear after 12 and right before 14...like clockwork my friends.

So you get through Triskaidekaphobia and neither Jason nor his mother have offed you

**so far, so good**,

but then bang...it's that other crappy day...

The whole awkwardness of others receiving flowers or cards while your desk sits bare ("I do not need tokens of affections to show others that my partner loves me" chants through your head)makes for a clock-watching, office-door closed kind of day. "Happy Valentines Day!" salutations attack from all sides; break rooms, hall ways, restroom stalls be damned- these words ooze through the walls and grab at you, choke you, make you want to retch. What if you are single, or not happy? Can you just punch that person in the throat to shut them up? Is not "all fair in love and war?"

If you love, must you dote? Can't you keep your true emotions bundled up and hidden on the inside, like a man? Nothing bad ever happens with bottled up emotions, it's when you share them you get in trouble, just ask Christian Bale! So keep it inside, learn how to hide your feelings, it's for the best. Refuse to let Hallmark make a mint off of you because of your heartstrings- fight the good fight!

But, if you must flaunt it- beware! Flaunting automatically opens the door for future abuse when you get in an argument/ break-up. We, the non-flaunters, but definitely gloaters, are prepared and waiting to ask how sad you'll be with no cards come next Valentine's Day, or remind you of how happy you both once seemed, "where did it go wrong? You both really seemed to like one another. Gosh this must hurt!"

Yeah, when you least want to hear about it(like most of us on Valentine's Day) we will bring it up **innocently**, of course. Watch me play my poker face.

A word from our sponsor

Spokespeople are dropping like flies these days- role models are so unreliable!

Michael Phelps dumped by Wheaties. Hey there Kellogg's, don't you know stoners need food, too? Wake up Kellogg's, your corn flakes are the quintessential net result, or perfect answer, to the symbiotic relationship between stoners and the dreaded munchies! Why fight it, embrace (inhale, if you must- "puff puff pass the pipe") it! If you wanted any more proof how good your cereal is, why not leverage the image of a stoner who is damn fast! Sure, Nancy Reagan may not like the message, but who ever knew of a stoner who could find their way off of a couch in less than a minute, better yet break world swimming records? You just know Gatorade is itching for publicity like this!

Maybe Kellogg's could fill that spot on their sponsorship roster with A-Rod. Yes, jumping on the A-rod bandwagon becomes cliche, especially since Madonna has already been there, and Torre is dishing on him, but "Wheaties" could spin the negative publicity into a new recipe for success, "Wheaties, part of a complete champions breakfast regiment- steroids, marijuana and attorney's fees not included!"

Although the lyrics claim that the flavor of gum is to last "Forever", the relationship between Chris Brown and Wrigley's went stale as quickly as a piece of gum spit out onto the side of the road after a domestic dispute. WTF?! Beating and biting on Rihanna, really? Talk about Disturbia! Fleeing the scene on foot and taking the car keys, leaving Rihanna stuck on the side of the road- classy; where did Chris Brown learn those moves? Apparently the option to shut up and drive wasn't viable.

How to avoid the disappointment of spokesperson who fail us- don't get your hopes up to begin with!

Or, even easier, leave spokemodeling up to the professionals, actors and models (A&M); they won't let you down. No one's shocked by Kate Moss doing coke or Alec Baldwin going off on his daughter- erratic behavior by A&M are part of their intrigue. And, when they do go crazy, get busted or get caught in less than flattering circumstances it's usually going to end up being a publicity win-win for the product and the star, not a blemish! Paris going to jail sells more than Barkley getting busted for DUI anyday.

Open Letters Week: taxing issues

Dear IRS,

Please explain why you are so damn confusing.

I'd like to go all Etta James on you and tell ya how I really feel, but I think doing that to the government might create legal issues or FBI visits, so I will speak softly.

Why is it so hard to file taxes? You remind me of sudoku. Just keep trying to stick numbers into different boxes until a magical sequence is derived and viola, "money disappears from my bank account, it's like magic; crappy bad magic!"


I don't like sudoku.

Why can't we find a way to make doing taxes as pleasant as, say, picking the next American Idol? Sure, we may have to deal with some crazy bikini-clad freaks and cranky officials, but in the end we'd have much more representation in the taxation process. Isn't that what we fought for? Why is there a limit on making taxes EZ? Couldn't you work something out with Staples to create the "easy tax button"?

Given the complexity of the forms and the penalties for making a mistake (thank you much, Mr Daschle) I opt to contribute to the economic stimulus package by hiring an accountant to do my taxes. How refreshing, paying someone to help me pay the government! At least I know my nomination would be safe!

Open Letters Week: caught in the Rush hour

Dear Rush,

There is a party that needs your leadership, but it is not the Republican's.
You, my dear pill-popping fellow, should properly anoint yourself the leader of the Pussycat Dolls and their Las Vegas party scene. Take your old-fashion politics of disinformation and spite and refocus your energy (and Viagra) on leg lifts, splits, and learning to sing back-up. OK, that last one is a joke, considering none of the "other 'cats" do any singing other than Nicole. But why not aim your pipes where it could do some good, or be drown out in a chorus of "na na na na". Maybe you and Cheney could duet?

You, Mr. Limp-baugh, have the knack (but not the Sharona) of singing like a canary when things don't go your way. How quick you are to cheer the "failure" of the new president and put yourself front and center as the new Right's voice. Let's just see what "Annie Oakley of Alaska" has to say about that! She could probably kick your ass and then skin you, right after she does the same to Ashley Judd! My best hope would be to call it a "draw" and you both are gone, but...well, one can dream.

I love your notion of splitting any stimulus plan between political camps- kind of like how you split your Viagra prescriptions? And how did that work for you at airport security? Oh, that was mean-spirited . Funny how you never asked the Republican president to split policies with the Democrats when HE was in office, so why now...oh, yeah, sore loser.

But hey, it's a free country isn't? So you can carry on with your blather and brimstone, it seems like the AM airwaves are a bastion for your type, but please don't believe your hype, look what hype did for "Snakes on a Plane".

TTFN!

ps... please photoshop better, you are beginning to resemble Richard Hatch

Open Letters Week...

(If you haven't read this humorous letter...here ya go, from Ricky Gervais)


Dear Mr President,

Firstly, congratulations on your historic win. I have never been so behind a candidate for what must be considered the boss of the world.

You seem to be a man of grace and integrity, who would never shirk responsibility in any way.

I'll get to the point.

As I'm sure you are aware, one of your flock has strayed. A Miss Paris Hilton, who is, I believe, a resident of Beverley Hills, is in England doing a reality game show for ITV2 called Paris Hilton's British Best Friend. Fine. I have no problem with that. I don't have to watch. But now it has come to my attention that she has bought a house in North London a few miles from me, and is out and about ingratiating herself with the Great British public.

Mr President. We are not stupid. This is clearly a retaliatory strike for Posh Spice moving to LA. I know it, and you know it, so let's cut the "it's a free country" nonsense and come to some agreement.

I propose an exchange.

This is how it would work. We call them both and tell them that we've found a giant "paparazzi nest", in New York say. (half way home for both of them already)

At first they may be confused that they'd never heard of such a thing before, but the thought of that many photographers in one place will be irresistible.

Once we get them there, while they are having their photos taken (we will have hire a few guys with cameras to make it look good) we will swap their limos around. It's fool proof.

This is a covert operation of which Mr Gordon Brown knows nothing. (I've got him working on finding a synthetic fur for The Queen's guards' bearskin hats.)

Have your people call my people. They may have to call a few times as my people are useless to be honest.

Thank you,

Ricky Gervais