A BETTER USE FOR BURKAS?

I am always surprised by how much the U.S. prison system (and how it's run) tends to get my dander up. It's not like I'm close to anyone who's doing time, or even know anyone in the tank, for that matter. But I guess it serves as just one more reminder of what an inefficient and barbaric system we're running here. PRISON REFORM NOW, I say! DECRIMINALIZE DRUGS, I say! STOP GANG VIOLENCE, I say! But nobody really listens. Everybody just thinks I'm schizo...

Anyway, I was listening to a piece on NPR recently, about the problem of prison gangs, and how they always organize by ethnicity, and how the Blacks want to kill the Latinos, and vice versa, and then both groups want to kill the Whites, etc. Well, I have a solution for San Quentin and other prisons that are having this problem. (And, mind you, what prison isn't)?

How about requiring inmates to wear burkas? If inmates had to wear burkas outside of their cells, no one would be able to identify each other by race, or at least, it would be much harder to do so. It would help avoid the collusion that goes with prisoners being able to recognize and signal to one another. Almost seems like a no brainer, huh?

Some of you might be worried about civil liberties. Well, I don't think there's anything more liberating than NOT having to worry about being murdered in prison because you're the wrong color. There's really nothing undignified about it. If so much of the "free" female population in the world can do it, then why can't criminals serving time?

Others might raise the objection that inmates would easily be able to outsmart this system. Well, I'm sure some would, but it would make prison gang activity a hell of a lot more difficult.

You probably think I'm joking about all this, but I'm not. I know it might seem a bit extreme, but prison overcrowding and the state of our jails today -- not to mention the obscene amount of tax payer money that goes into maintaining the staggering prison population, while only creating a breeding ground for more violent offenders and never rehabilitating anyone -- is in and of itself extreme, and calls for drastic measures.

PLEASE VISIT MY OFFSHOOT BLOG!!

Readers,

I love you all as much as ever, and that's why I'm taking you on a new journey... Please visit my latest blog, 12 Weeks to a Book Deal, at

12weekstoabookdeal.blogspot.com

Enjoy and please feel free to comment!

Thanks,
Olivia

WHAT'S IN A NAME? ASK THE CHRISTIAN RIGHT!

Winner of the most uproariously funny piece of news this week goes to the far-right American Family Association and their ridiculous gaffe, in which they implemented a site-wide search and replace for the word "gay" (an inappropriate term in their nano-minds) with the word "homosexual." Enter Olympic athlete Tyson Gay (pictured above) whose name ended up
appearing in news stories on the site as "Tyson Homosexual." One of the site's headlines read, "Homosexual eases into 100 meter finals...."

Now, I'm just praying (wouldn't the AFA be proud of me) for an athlete with the last name of Retard to qualify for the Olympics. That would probably warrant a search and replace with, say, "mentally challenged," as in: "Mentally Challenged tumbles to success." Or maybe an athlete with the last name of Hooker. "Prostitute dives into qualifying round."
The possibilities are endless.

E. COLI OUTBREAK LINKED TO ANGRY VEGANS!

A recent E. Coli outbreak in Ohio and Michigan has been linked to a group of militant, angry vegans who will stop at nothing to put meat-eaters out of business. Their nefarious plot entails picking off meat consumers one at a time, with the goal of achieving vegan world domination. Said one fired-up member of the group POV (Pissed Off Vegans), "We want to make eating meat a matter of life and death for big, fat, unconscious carnivores."

A spokesman for the carnivores, Chuck Cattleface, had this to say: "We know red meat is bad for the environment and our health, and we'd like to keep it that way. It's how we live on the edge without having to do extreme sports. Besides, if we gave up meat, what would we barbecue? Potato chips?" He concluded with a warning: "Those vegans haven't heard the last of us yet."

Stay tuned.

AH, BUSES...

Dear readers,

I have something to admit to you and I'm kinda worried about what you might think of me but anyway here goes: I have a thing for buses. I just think they're so cute. And they remind me of different characters. Like Muni in San Francisco makes me think of Mr. Snuffleuffigus* (Snuffy for those in the know.) And most of the major metro buses seem to have a smile on their "faces" and a peppy countenance.

My bus crush is not indiscriminate, however. Certain buses, like those oversized coach buses:
really don't do it for me. And I have to admit, I feel completely platonic toward school buses too.



They just don't have those optimistic rounded bodies that make your heart melt. Know what I mean?

Didn't think so. But you'll just have to trust me on this.

* I had a really hard time finding a picture of Mr. Snuffleuffigus on the web. If you happen upon one, please let me know.

SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL

You've probably heard that there are 17 students at a Gloucester, Massachusetts high school who are expecting babies this summer. Authorities believe the cause may be a "pregnancy pact" that these girls made last fall, in order to see who of the group could get knocked up. And apparently, one of the fathers is a twenty-four year old homeless man. Class-eh!

Maybe it's no coincidence that these teen pregnancies all happened around the time the pregnancy of now 17-year-old Jamie Lynn Spears was announced.

Now don't get me wrong: I'm all for teen pregnancy -- I mean, if you're part of a native tribe in Papau New Guinea, or if you've been given six months to live. But beyond those potential anomalies, what the hell is wrong with our retarded society??? And why do we deify White Trash "culture?" I feel like I'm gonna wake up in a few years and find that the U.S. has become a monarchy, with this guy as king:


King Tubolardo, of the United States, says: "Let them eat Big Macs!"

But seriously, not to sound like a feminazi, but how are women ever gonna gain equal footing in this world if a bunch of retarded mothers are telling their idiot children that it's okay to have babies at sixteen?????

I say, forget birth control in the drinking water, because nobody even drinks tap water anymore. How about birth control in the Big Gulp? Now there's one I bet the epidemiologists haven't thought of...

High Time for 21st Century Cliches

So, I've been thinking -- I know, scary right? And I've come to the conclusion that it is time to update some of the shopworn cliches that continue to persist in our lexicon, and trade them for some more updated would-be cliches that better reflect our eight-year-old century. So, here's a little mini-dictionary I made to give you some examples. Feel free to perpetuate these, or, of course, make up your own!



OLD CLICHE: ................... NEW MILLENIUM CLICHE:


"I phoned it in."........................."I texted it"

(Cliche meaning, "I put no effort into it."
Has it's roots in the increasingly
antiquated method of communication
known as the telephone)


"Shit or get off the pot"..........."Press send or power down!"

(Roots should be quite obvious.)


"Keep me posted".................."Download me"

(Has it's roots in the
nearly-obsolete U.S. mail)


"She's a ho" .................................."She's a reply to all"

(has its roots in agriculture)



"What's the 411?" ................................."What's the RSS?"

(has its roots in the fairly
antiquated practice of "calling
information")


"I'm dialed in." .................................."I'm logged on."

(Again, rooted
in the telephone, meaning "I know
what's up.)

NELLY OLESEN DAYS

Ever have one of those Nelly Olesen days? Those days where you would do just about anything to be her, feeling superior to everyone else and being mean to Laura Ingalls and faking your own paralysis? I know I do.

Sometimes I just want so much to hang out at my father Nels' (whom I was probably named after) general store and have my incredibly annoying mother Harriett overindulge me with candy as she practically comes busting out of the seams of her own corset and drives my father bat shit crazy. And then I just want to whip my perfectly placed Olesen ringlets -- yet another sign of blatant defiance -- around, and smirk at everyone who's less fortunate than me which, of course, means just about everyone.

The truth is, Nelly Olesen has gotten me through some really tough times, including colds, flus, and after school snacktimes, and has served as a reassuring reminder that I am, in fact, not the biggest brat in the entire world. I could always be worse... I could be Nelly Olesen.

And for all of that, I remain eternally grateful to Ms. O.

NO SHOES, BETTER SERVICE?

I try to respect my body and let it act the way it wants to. We have a little dialogue going. If it's like, "I have a headache, please don't make me run today," I'll usually be like, "Well, is it just a passing thing, I mean, can you work through it? Or is it really bad, in which case I'll put you down for a nap." It's always a bit of a bartering session. Sometimes my body'll be like, "I want a slice of apple pie." And I'll counter, "How about 2 small cookies instead?" And then it's like "Okay, fine." Or maybe its, "Buzz off. I swam you a mile and a half today, the least you can do is feed me pie."

And even though I tend to be kinda competitive in most respects, when it comes to my body, I usually let it win. I just want what's best for my head, shoulders, knees and toes (knees and toes.) It's the only bod I've got--so far. We'll see where technology takes us in the next few years. But anyway, given my healthy regard for my personage, you can imagine my concern after reading an article last week about how BAD shoes are for you. That's right. And they weren't just talking about high heels. Sneakers are also apparently a deadly sin. Researchers concluded that, prior to the advent of shoes, humans had healthier feet. And now that we are so reliant upon footwear, our natural gait has gone to the dogs. Probably quite literally, because most dogs don't wear shoes...

Wanting to hold my feet in proper esteem, I decided I was going to make an effort to more thoroughly explore the world of bare feet. So yesterday, I ran through Santa Monica barefoot, and I noticed a few things in the process. First of all, I noticed that you have to watch where you're walking when you're trying to pull a Shoeless Joe Jackson. I did make one painful step onto a pebble, and onto the occasional (painless but messy) stray mulberry. But it kept me present. My mind wasn't wandering as much as it usually does.

Another thing I observed was how grounding walking barefoot actually felt, if a bit more effortful. And though it might have been asphalt and concrete rather than terra firma, I just felt there was one less thing coming between me and mother earth, and I dare say, it made me a little less flighty. Oh, and walking on the grass felt fantastic. There was definitely an element of euphoria in the proceedings.

What I also noticed was people looking at me in a different light, either like they thought I was a bad-ass, or, quite possibly, a vagrant. Or maybe both. But I didn't mind. I told myself, "I bet their gate isn't half as awesome as my gait." And, if they felt compelled to donate food or money, so be it.

As it is with most things, the jury still seems to be out on how harmful this shoe-wearing habit of ours really is. I've made a pact with myself (and my body) that I'm going to keep wearing shoes to restaurants and weddings. But I am going to continue to explore the concept of bare feet in public, for a bit of a break from the norm as much as anything. Won't you join me in walking a moon without mocassins?

TWILIGHT (ZONE) OF THE COWBOYS

Lovely Readers,

I have been spending much of my
time weeping for the fact that
you have probably never experienced
anything quite like what I bore witness to last weekend. That's right--I'm still weeping and it's already Thursday.

The main thing is, I'm just sad at the
injustice that has led you to have never visited Pioneertown, CA.

Built in 1947 as a permanent old west movie set, with help from such illustrious
investors as Gene Autrey and Roy Rogers, the place still hops on the weekends, drawing visitors from as close as Yucca Valley and as far as Switzerland, who come, no doubt, for the camp.

On Saturdays and Sundays, the local "actors" put on an old west show that involves The Blackfoot Gang's plan to rob
a bank during a Wells Fargo rep's visit
to town on horseback. It's a highly original plot, and not unlike porn in the simplicity of its execution. My favorite part was, though the actors have been performing this very same show for the last twenty-some-odd-years, there was still no shortage of gaffes. But that, my friends, is the biggest part of Pioneertown's charm. That, and the incredibly potent margaritas and live music at the town's biker bar, Pappy and Harriet's.

Another major highlight was Pioneertown's only bowling alley, Pioneer Bowl, which at one time had old fashioned bowling with pin setters, but now claims to have the oldest "working" automated lanes in existence. I use the term "working" loosely, since only three of the six lanes were functioning, one of which broke down mid game. And word to the wise: Don't bother putting a quarter in the old fashioned pin ball machines, unless you intend to make a donation. But that, my friends, in case you forgot, is all part of the charm of Pioneertown.

It's a post modern time warp where you can get a taste of the idiosyncratic lives of the town's permanent residents--many of whom still dress like it's 1899--while drinking an old fashioned soda and helping the two gay guys next to you from Palm Springs score their bowling game, as the African American family sitting at the soda fountain looks on.

I can't help wondering what Gene Autry and Roy Rogers would have thought of all this. We'll never know for sure, but I'd like to think they wouldn't have had it any other way.

OVERSCHEDULED PETS...

As if it weren't enough to be steering their kids into a jazillion after-school activities...

It seems people are no longer satisfied with simply pushing their children too far -- now, they're doing it to their pets. No longer is chewing on a bone, licking oneself, or pushing one's eggs across an arctic ice sheet enough. No siree. These days, pet owners expect more from their animals, in the form of a dizzying slate of extracurricular activities which include, but are not limited to, surfing, scuba diving, and open water swimming.

Why these cats, dogs, penguins, and other species seem to be pursuing so many water sports is unclear, but one thing is for certain: Animals are under way too much pressure these days, and it's adversely affecting everything else they do, from digging, to shedding, to playing with balls of string.

There was a time when domesticated animals had very little to worry about but mere survival. But now, with the advent of kitty salons, dog bakeries, and the gradual takeover of Hollywood by a small group of stealthy penguins, life has become way more complicated, and pets find themselves having to worry about their coiffure, their weight, and now, sadly, their athletic performance. So the next time you see a horse or an iguana playing raquetball or waterskiing, don't just laugh and take pictures. Have some pity on the poor creature and offer him or her a cold brewski and your copy of the latest John Grisham for Pete's sake... Or for Snowball's.

WHASAHAPPENIN' HOTSTUFF?

Do any of you know who this man is? Well, my husband and I were accosted by a couple of British journalists on the street here in Santa Monica the other day, who were wondering the very same thing about us. They showed us several pictures of celebrities, asking us to identify them. I'm ashamed to say we did a pretty piss poor job of it. Of course, I I.D.-ed Victoria Beckham and a couple of others, but out of ten pictures, our track record was less than stellar. That is, until the piece de resistance came along: A photo of the above mug. I reached deep into my amygdala, activating my medulla oblongata, cerebellum, and of course, corpus callosum, before spitting out the answer. SPOILER ALERT! DON'T READ ON UNLESS YOU WANT TO KNOW.

"Gordon Brown," I regurgitated from somewhere in the deep recesses of the Responsible/ Politically Aware/Greeting Card aisle of my brain -- aisle seven, in case you're wondering. Well, you can guess what happened next. I glowed as these proud Brits congratulated me and took my picture. Yes I preened, and maybe even gloated, a little. Of course, they took my huband's picture too, but that was only because he failed to identify David Beckham -- can't blame him, the guy's a chameleon. But the whole point of the exercise, as it turned out, was to see what sorts of faces were in people's pictorial lexicon, and which weren't...

Anyhoo, all of this got me to wondering how many Santa Monicans, Californians, Nebraskans, and even Americans could identify ol' Gordy. My guess is, probably not a whole lot. And then, even though at this point my hippocampus was getting a little tired, I started thinking about how weird it is to come from a country where the entire world knows your leader. And despises him too, but that's another story. But I mean Britain is a pretty damn important world superpower, even if they do drink too much tea. So you would think their head of state would be somewhat ubiquitous in terms of the media, right? And a friend of mine, let's call her IRMA to protect the innocent, is a British citizen who's lived most of her life in the States, but still, didn't even know the name of the new British Prime Minister, let alone being able to identify his mug shot.

So this gives me a pretty good sense that we here in America are a bunch of ethnocentric, movie star worshipping dervishes who have very little idea that the rest of the world even exists. We're like the popular cheerleader, and the rest of the world is that nerdy little kid who's president of the academic decathlon, but will never get America's phone number. The thing is, that geek is probably going to grow up to be something great, and we, the cheerleader, are going to getmarried, have a few kids, and get fat. And then the hot, rich, successful nerd won't even give us the time of day, as we, America, devours bon bons peppered with tear salt in her locked bathroom, and pines for a parallel universe.

So there you have it. A little lesson on foreign policy, reduced to a John Hughes movie.

Log in next time, when I profile several obscure world leaders. Aren't you gonna be the most worldly thing on two feet?

A NEW EPIDEMIOLOGICAL NIGHTMARE!

First there was bubonic plague. Then leprosy. Then AIDS. SARS. Bird Flu. Now, there's a new, highly contagious, even more sinister epidemic sweeping the world like a flash flood, leaving no one standing in its wake. And it is... The Bachelorette Party.

Sure, you can try staying out of panty stores, try not ordering any penis games on the internet, try staying home in a hazmat suit. But it will catch up to you. And when it does, there will be froofee cocktails, and there will be girl talk, and there will be the sharing of beauty secrets. That's right, beauty secrets. And the sad thing is, there is nothing you -- or anyone else -- can do about it.

Researchers at Chico State University have been scrambling to find a cure, but so far, have found no known antidote to this raging pandemic. Apparently, men seem to be immune to it, but they have their own emerging disease to contend with, one whose symptoms have not yet been fully explored, but which tend to involve lap dances, steak dinners, and glitter-stained faces. Any observation of these or other, similar behaviors should immediately be reported to the Centers for Disease Control.

SUMMER OLYMPICS GIVEN CHANGE OF VENUE!

After global protests -- including major outcries in France and England -- over China's hosting of the 2008 Olympics, the International Olympic Committee has voted to relocate this summer's games to a venue with a more respectable human rights record: Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.

"It's a no brainer," said IOC Chairman Hein Verbruggen, in between bites of bratwurst with a heaping helping of sauerkraut. "There is already a built-in international community at Guantanamo. Folks from Afghanistan, Egypt, Pakistan, Iraq... we've got the works. Of course we will miss the Russians, because they always get their game on, but we will survive."

The question is, will the competitors? Most of the international community supported Verbruggen and the IOC's decision, until other, more unusual changes were made to the games, seemingly overnight. "We decided 'when in Rome,' so this year, we are changing up the events a bit," claimed IOC communications director Giselle Davies.

Davies added that new events would include waterboarding, genital electric shock, and being doused in menstrual blood. "I mean, gymnastics and equestrian are all well and fine," Davies explained, "but we've seen them before. Our sponsors are excited to finally have something we call "indifference-proof" to offer our spectators.

Responding to alarmed critics in his weekly address, President Bush tried to assuage concerns as best he could. "This is about sports, not politics," the President explained. "Gitmo has good ol' American infrastructure in place, it's in a beautiful setting, and let's face it, we all love arroz con polo a heck of a lot more than Kung Pao chicken."

Former Olympic gold medalist Kerri Strug had this reaction: "Electric shock? Compared to doing flips on a six-inch wide high beam for fourteen hours a day on a ration of two hearts of romaine, that sounds like heaven.

DRUG LINKED TO FEELING BETTER?!

The FDA is in the process of investigating reports that Healthione, a new prescription cold medicine by the pharmaceutical giant Merken, is actually improving people's health. "We are very concerned," said a spokesperson. "Prescription drugs are supposed to have all sorts of terrible side effects: heart attack, stroke, diarrhea, acne, tender gums, sudden death, etc. The fact that this drug does not cause any sort of unrelated health problems is a serious cause for alarm. We're just waiting for the other shoe to drop... on someone's head."

Repeated attempts to contact Merken's corporate offices were unsuccessful, but one employee spoke anonymously. "Don't quote me on this because I don't want to get in trouble with the Feds, but we at Merken just feel that people should be able to
take a drug without having to worry about the risks of suicide, blindness, bad breath, and other serious inconveniences."

Many consumers, who claim that they would actually prefer a drug without side effects, are eager to sample Healthione. However, a Blue Cross representative stressed that any drug proven to work without side effects would absolutely not be added to the insurance giant's formulary. "It's too risky," explained the representative. "If people are feeling too healthy, they just might do something crazy... or maybe even stupid, like go for a brisk walk or drink a smoothie. And then what? Next thing you know, they don't even need us anymore. And we like to feel needed."

GUY HAS FOOD STUCK IN TEETH FOR 17 HOURS -- DOESN'T EVEN KNOW IT!

After breakfast yesterday, consisting of an everything bagel with chive cream cheese, a Los Angeles area man spent the entire day with poppy and sesame seeds lodged into his front canines, along with a chive stuck on his upper left incisor. After making an important outside sales presentation for work, the man apparently posed for a publicity photo for his office newsletter, and then proceeded to go out on a scheduled blind date, without ever realizing the presence of said dental detritus. Upon arriving home from his hectic day, the man (whose name authorities have not yet released) discovered the evidence, and promptly lapsed into a coma. He is now in serious yet stable condition at a Santa Monica hospital. Donations in honor of the man can be made to fight this grave yet often overlooked cause, in the form of a check or dental floss, to the non-profit organization Humiliating Moments International.

STOP WORKING OUT-- WHILE YOU STILL CAN!

A new study by the APCA (American Potato Chip Alliance) has found that exercise of any kind is actually quite harmful to humans. This, of course, negates many of the other research findings pertaining to health and physical fitness, but a spokesman from the APCA, Peter Corndogowski, stated, "Those other studies are misleading, since they're funded by all these fitness fanatics who can't seem to stay away from a gym for more than five minutes. Of course they're going to have a bias." A spokesperson from the American Council on Exercise denied the claim.

"Exercise makes you tired, sweaty, out of breath, and gives you sore muscles," claimed Corndogowki. "Besides, it also makes you miss your favorite TV shows, which can be an emotionally traumatic experience leading to a shorter lifespan."

Since more research is still being conducted, the safest bet for now, according to the APCA, is probably not to move a muscle unless absolutely necessary. And if for some dire reason, you do need to perambulate, do so extremely slowly, and with as little effort as possible.

SNOOP DOGG RECALLS BEEF IN SPIRIT OF EASTER!

Apparently, the U.S. Department of Agriculture isn't the only one recalling beef these days. Snoop Dogg, (pictured above) who has carried a long time beef with a childhood friend (pictured in Easter basket in 1972, above) has finally come to his senses and decided to call off said beef, after realizing that a few

stolen easter eggs and a stuffed lamb just weren't worth ruining a friendship over. Said Snoop, "It's been eatin' at my heart for a really long time, know what I mean? I guess... (pause for tears) I guess I trusted that little boy, and he thieved me. He thieved me real bad. But I finally decided to give up my beef for Lent. And I'm glad I did. Now I can sleep at night. Well, not really, because he's still got a beef with me over a box of Peeps. But I'm hoping this beef recall will catch on." We hope so too, Snoop. We really do.

HILLARY CLINTON HAS FUN!

BREAKING NEWS: Despite the recently released scandal about John McCain having had an affair with one of his staff, and despite the hooplah over Michelle Obama implying that she has only recently become proud of America, there is an even bigger scuttlebutt afoot: Hillary Rodham Clinton was reportedly spotted last night... are you ready for this? Having fun!

"Gone was her sinister laugh and John Edwards-aspiring haircut," said one onlooker. "She was sporting a Prada mullet and a skirt that showed off her cankles."

A campaign spokesman has vehemently denied the rumors. "Senator Clinton was absolutely not having fun," he said. "That is absolutely and completely untrue. She has never had fun, and she never will. In fact, she doesn't even know how."

Outraged by the gossip, Clinton herself spoke out this morning. "I am dismayed by these allegations. There is no room for such ugly aspersions in this race, or frankly, in the White House. When we have fun, the terrorists win."

Senator Barack Obama, who was at Build a Bear with his family, was unavailable for comment.

Dub-ya Forms Book Club!!

President Bush posed with his book club after their inaugural meeting yesterday.

Never thought I'd see the day, but my Weekly Reader recently reported that, despite his busy schedule fighting terror and education, George W. Bush, our president, has somehow found the time to form a book club. Says White House Press Secretary Dana Perino, "The President realized that if he really wanted to get closer to the American people, he was going to have to take up one of our biggest national pastimes: reading."

According to Highlights for Children, President Bush's book club is highly exclusive, consisting of only five members: The President, three little girls in pink dresses, and Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice (not pictured.) Reportedly, the inaugural meeting entailed a discussion of bestselling novel "The Babysitters Club: Kristy's Great Idea, " by renowned author Ann M. Martin. Said President Bush of the novel, "My favorite character was Claudia, because she's a really good dresser--just like me--and she's also a minority which I think is really neat. I love minorities. Just ask Condi." I did, in fact ask Condi, and here's what she had to say, "I have no comment about anything Geo Geo--I mean, the President--may have said, but I did want to point out that the one disconcerting part of the book for me was that there was no apostrophe in "Babysitters. Please don't mention that to Georgie--I mean, the President. He just loved the book so much and I'd hate to put a damper on that."

Due to Homeland Security precautions, questions about the next selection for the President's book club were repeatedly denied by White House staffers, however, one unnamed source did share a small hint: Two of the words in the title include "God," and "Margaret."

PAMELA ANDERSON FINALLY LANDS ACCOUNTANT

Just in time for Valentine's Day, Pamela Anderson has announced that she's finally, once and for all, eschewed her penchant for sleazy rockstars, in favor of a stable, level-headed accountant. Sources close to the actress soon revealed, however, that the accountant in question wasn't just any old pencil pusher. No, the PhD in Pammy's life turns out to be none other than chairman of the Federal Reserve, Ben S. Bernanke. Seen snuggling up to each other at library check out lines, Brooks Brother's tie departments, and in line at the bank, sources say the couple seems deeply in love. Says Anderson, "Forget Tommy, forget Kid Rock, they didn't know how to have a real conversation. They were too busy trying to make sex videos and drown little children. With Benny, he talks to me about interest rates, inflation, and he even buried his head in my boob and cried about the subprime crisis. He is so sensitive. That's what I love." She added, "And don't tell him I told you this, but sometimes he likes to dress up in my Baywatch bikini. It actually looks pretty good on him since we both have long torsos." Says Bernanke, "Pamela is so smart and yet so dirty. But that juxtaposition is what appeals to me. I'm working to get her picture on the new nickel." He then added, "I'm the envy of pretty much everyone over at the Fed. And Alan Greenspan's been sending me death threats. But I don't care. For the first time in my life, I've got a busty blond shiksa on my arm, and I'm just happy as a clam."

LOVING KINDNESS MY ASS!

My sole New Year's Resolution for 2008 was to start meditating... Why? I guess I just feel like it could bring calm and peace to my life and stuff like that. That's what they say, anyway. So I went to a class/lecture that was on "Why Meditate?" and I realized this was going to be a LOT harder than I thought...

First of all, you're supposed to practice LOVING KINDNESS. That's right. You're supposed to love that annoying lady at the drycleaner and that homeless guy who always dumps everything out of your recycling bin. The list goes on. Because there are, what, about 6 billion people on earth right now? And you're supposed to love ALL of them?? One of the teachers there told me you don't have to love them as much as your family, and I thought, well that's a relief, sometimes it's a struggle just to LIKE some of them!

And there were other bumps in the road: Buddhism (or at least this flavour of it) teaches that ALL happiness comes from within. So then I asked the teacher, "If all happiness comes from within, then what's the point of having close relationships?" She had an answer for me, of course, which was that it was good practice for loving everyone else. Plus, she said, you probably have a karmic connection with your friends and sig-ohs. Hmmmm.... I see...

THEN, the teacher made the point that no one LIKES to be angry or unhappy. Well, I quite disagree on that point. People LOVE being miserable. And angry. And hell, yes, I'm one of them! Do I enjoy yelling at people, honking at them, cursing? You betcha! Does it silently take years off my life? Perhaps... But I don't smoke, I drink moderately, and I've never even tried cocaine. And, I floss! Nightly! So aren't I entitled to a vice? You don't have to answer that. In fact, please don't.

I don't know... I like a lot of the tenets of Buddhism, but when I get around some of the more devout followers, I can't help picking up on just another cultish vibe that I get with most any religious practice. I start to get self conscious. Am I sitting right? Am I breathing right? Do I seem sincere--I sure as hell hope so, because on the inside, I'm thinking, "Let someone into my lane in traffic? When hell freezes the fuck over!"

Does anything I'm saying make sense? Or are you about to throw me into the fastest vehicle available and rush me to the nearest monastery? Perhaps you should. Perhaps this has been a cry for help. Well, anyway, whatever it was, it's been a LOT of fun. I feel relaxed now. Strangely at peace. As though I've just.... meditated. Ohhhhhhhmmmmmmmm.....

...ANYONE STILL WONDERING WHAT'S WRONG WITH OUR COUNTRY?

Maybe it's just me, but I guess I really don't feel comfortable seeing the "president" yukking it up with King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia. I know they're like, BFF and everything, but it just seems to me that in a country where a teenage girl gets sentenced to lashings and jail time for being gang raped, maybe Georgie boy should try not to be having so darn much fun. I know, I know, he has to suck up to Abdy, since that guy's got all the precious oil we need and everything, and it would probably look bad if Bushy whined and said, "i'm not gonna come out to play in your country 'til you be nice to girls." I mean, Bush has a wife and a mother (or is she his grandmother) and two daughters. How can even that Australopithecene stand for such behavior? I'm no feminazi or anything, but I would bet my entire $305 dollars that if some man had been treated abhorrently in that country (unless of course, we were mistreating them ourselves at Guantanamo Bay--that would be different) and it made the national news circuit, that Bush wouldn't have posed for that prom picture with King Abdullah. He might not have even shown up.

All I'm saying is, maybe taking a stand for women's rights in medieval countries like Saudi Arabia might be a step in the right direction of encouraging freedom and democracy. It might be a little bit cheaper and more effective to defend women than to make threats, search for non-existent nukes, and drop bombs. And even if it were somewhat incendiary to stand up for the female species in a place like that, wouldn't defending women be an inherently more worthy cause than all of our other flame-fanning efforts thus far?

The funny thing about the picture is -- other than the fact that Bushy is holding a sword, and where's Abdy's gift from him by the way?--is his posture. Because, while he's holding one sword, his posture makes him kinda looks like he's got another one up his bum. Nah' mean? But my BIG question is, with all of the tightened new homeland security and TSA regulations, how did Bushy take that sword back with him on the plane? And more importantly, does he have to go through security in his socks like the rest of us?

DESYNCHRONOSIS

Yes, I might as well get it out in the open... I have been diagnosed with desynchronosis. At the moment, it really seems quite serious. I hope I will recover...
Is it worse than ADD, OCD, or any other sort of D? Well, in the long run, no. It's actually just good ol' fashion JETLAG. And I've got it bad, having just returned from Vietnam, Cambodia, and Japan.

I wish I could take a picture of my tired self to share with you right now, but the sad truth is, we broke our lovely camera on our first day in Vietnam, and I've been subsisting on horrible disposable cameras ever since. But just picture me for yourself: Droopy eyelids, sunken eyes, permafrown, slightly hunched over... Yup, that's me. I thought we were on schedule last night when we went to sleep at midnight, but then, when I awoke at three o'clock this afternoon, I realized just how wrong I was.

Goddamn international date line!

So I'm gonna ride it out and hopefully--though they say it takes a day to recover for every time zone you cross--I'll be back in action in a few days. And at that point, I will offer you a MUCH more coherent blog post. Until then... Goodnight!