tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35855012011-08-20T07:16:23.424-04:00Cranky MagazinePlease enjoy a man-size serving of the fruits of my displeasure.
NOW with extra AAAAAAAAAARGH!margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.comBlogger1251100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1120455985821196692005-07-04T01:33:00.000-04:002005-07-04T13:41:24.543-04:00Why I Hate The Fourth of July1. Though its demise seems to have attracted little notice (understandably consumed as we've all been with the romantic exploits of Ben Affleck,) the America referenced in songs such as "America" has left the building. Gone to its Great Reward. Or less euphemistically, been sodomized, garrotted and hacked to ribbons by the Fascists. They just haven't changed the margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1119802436316409022005-06-26T11:39:00.000-04:002005-07-04T13:39:22.753-04:00I love a parade. Parades mean elaborate floats, celebratory music and spangly costumes and . And in the case of the annual gay Pride parade, hotpants, tiny dogs and tiny dogs in hotpants. However, groups of business people holding up their company logos and waving while attempting to win applause by flinging Tootsie Roll Miniatures into the crowd does NOT constitute a parade float. It margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1119746823388551992005-06-25T20:32:00.000-04:002005-06-26T11:39:09.296-04:00In light of recent events, I should like to propose an end to the longstanding moratorium on Nazi analogies. Sure, I'm still opposed to invoking Hitler in on-line discussions about banning pit bulls ("First they come for Pit Bulls, then the ferrets, and ultimately, it's the Jews.") And certainly it should never be used by billboard company executives to justify cocking up the landscape with margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1116810143474211892005-05-22T20:50:00.000-04:002005-05-25T01:25:33.970-04:00My hatred for Paris Hilton, like my hatred for the fascist regime, is a gift from on high. Not because I advocate hatred (despite me being consumed by it nearly constantly,) but because it reveals to me my own emotional depths. Just when you think modern American life has forced a complete emergency shut down of the ol' affect, along comes someone so loathesome that one's emotional power plant margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1115575838751713102005-05-08T13:46:00.000-04:002005-05-22T20:50:46.533-04:00No Punchline TodayAmerica, 2005. Quite a little pickle, we're in, isn't it? National forests and other publicly-owned lands have been opened up to business interests. Regulatory agencies have been taken over by corporate interests. Citizens are now nearly unable to file for bankruptcy (while corporations do it every day at three.)Corporations have unlimited rights and legal personhood, but no margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1115094783787007132005-05-03T00:19:00.001-04:002005-05-08T13:46:17.550-04:00I stand before you as living proof that Everyone Does Not, in fact, Love Raymond. Through a tragic remote control error, I accidentally exposed myself to this odius sitcom yesterday. And I am prepared to go so far as to announce that I Loathe Raymond. As I loathe all of the Dumpy, Whining, Working-Stiff Manchildren Married to Far More Appealing and Capable Women on network television. Me margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1111862916212651692005-03-26T13:30:00.000-05:002005-03-26T14:11:35.753-05:00Irony Alert: I shall now begin talking about why talking about that poor li'l Schiavo girl is WRONG.I can't help myself. Like all of us, I'm a victim of a thought-virus created in a government lab and introduced into the braodcast air supply. Poor Terry. Unable to run or object, she is the perfect propaganda puppet with whom the fascist coup leaders are attempting to divert our attention. Lookmargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1109702748410021742005-03-01T13:27:00.000-05:002005-03-26T13:56:01.263-05:00Pleased as I am that the FCC is protecting me from the psychological damage that would surely result from viewing photos of the war dead or lesbian maple-syrup farmers I still feel unsafe somehow. Lately, I can't turn on the television without having to hear about the male sexual response, something I assiduously avoid in real life. And yet every few minutes I am forced to hear about erectile margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1108238420569736882005-02-12T14:42:00.000-05:002005-03-26T13:57:41.953-05:00This morning some long-lost Italian great-aunt greeted me from inside the mirror. A blackhaired, widowed Auntie Margolina looked at me wearily. As well she might. After raising 8 thankless and indolent boys, making ziti for rich folk to make ends meet after the early death of her husband Gepetto, it has been a hard life for her indeed. Soon Auntie Margolina will take in cats and allow herself margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1104782054209851452005-01-03T14:22:00.000-05:002005-03-26T14:04:47.833-05:00Woosh! Like a chubby toddler careening down a Slip N' Slide, America has gone koo-koo for dunking chunks of history down the ole memory hole. Plop! There goes the S&L Scandal! Splat!! Wave goodbye to the airlifting of the Bin Laden family out of the US! Hey interviews in which Bush linked 9/11 with Saddam...don't let the door hit ya on the way out. As long as we're ditching things, I'd like to margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1104709169290382742005-01-02T18:14:00.000-05:002005-01-03T01:36:20.450-05:00As if the rise of the Fourth Reich, not to mention the official start of Armageddon in the form of killer yuletide tsunamis, wasn't enough. RIP Jerome Orbach. You will always be my Lumiere. margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1102539735329368412004-12-08T15:46:00.000-05:002005-01-04T12:56:37.850-05:00Merry Excesstivus everyone. Margo here. Just thought I'd take a moment out of my super-busy American lifestyle to let you know that not a day goes by that I don't encounter at least ten fresh outrages sorely in need of a sound blog thrashing. My little experiment in anger management is just short of a dismal failure. Who's surprised? Hands?
I'm still choosing not to rant, though. For fear it margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1090039752584913132004-07-17T01:30:00.000-04:002004-12-08T15:46:30.976-05:00It may perhaps surprise you to learn that I have not been relocated to Guantanomo. Well not yet, anyway. It's true enough they don't much cotton to blogging there but my prolonged absence from the blogosphere is more easily explained.
Shockingly, I find that I'm just not very Cranky of late. Sure, I still break out in welts and my hair still falls out in clumps whenever I contemplate the margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1082731205176603952004-04-23T10:40:00.000-04:002004-04-23T12:15:29.000-04:00Why am I leaving Washington? Lots of reasons. But I've decided to tell everyone it's to get away from my obnoxious neighbors.
Those Bushes are SO annoying. They keep invading small countries. Plus, they're always spying on everyone. And they spend money like crazy...they must've racked up, like, 4.5 billion dollars in debt by now. But do they stop acting like big shots? No, they still margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1082480840600657142004-04-20T12:48:00.000-04:002004-04-23T10:47:21.263-04:00This is more baffling than the Shroud of Turin wrapped around the Warren Commission Report stowed in the cargo hold of Amelia Earhart's plane.
What can POSSIBLY explain the fact that, as today's Washington Post poll shows, a MAJORITY of Americans believe that Bush is "doing a good job?" . A good job at what? Ruining everything? I mean, what is it going to take for Americans to get margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1082384053314374172004-04-19T10:19:00.000-04:002004-04-22T17:34:40.123-04:00Washington DC sets the standard for so many things: corruption, mismanagement, boredom, conformity, cabdriver incompetence, percentage of lead in the drinking water, complete absence of lesbian bars. And today I am reminded of another area in which Washington stands head and shoulders above all others: per capita production of pollen. Overnight the outside world has been transformed into a margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1081907765975401752004-04-13T21:56:00.000-04:002004-04-22T17:38:00.653-04:00My masochistic tendencies must be more pronounced than I'd realized. Tonight I willingly devoted 45 minutes of my life to the "President"s press conference. God, how I loathe that patronizing, mush-mouthed, submoronic, sociopathic embarassment to the Western Hemisphere. Hell, to ALL the hemispheres.
But I reserve some of my blind rage for members of the press corps. Were I not partialmargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1081801717779536392004-04-12T16:18:00.000-04:002004-04-14T16:32:22.653-04:00I'm trying to let my hair attain a more girlish length. My fear is that as I continue to succumb to time's ravages, I will inevitably come to resemble Gertrude Stein who, while an excellent poet, was, let's be honest, no Isabella Rosellini.
For those of us not plagued by alopecia, growing hair would hardly seem a difficult task. In fact, it's really the opposite of a task, more a mattermargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1081696129093593112004-04-11T11:08:00.000-04:002004-04-23T12:22:43.000-04:00The Universe, or at least the Internet, works in mysterious ways. Three days after lamenting the deteriorating quality of spam, I receive two of the most lavish and intricately-wrought subject lines it has ever been my pleasure to read.
hippodrome tennis choreograph codicil barclay profession quit arterial proteolysis penitentiary hydrangea contention imbalance bedlam bowfin trim novelty margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1081435054733910822004-04-08T10:25:00.000-04:002004-04-09T15:35:55.903-04:00I must say I'm disappointed in the quality of spam I've been receiving of late. It's as if our persistent little penpals have simply lost the Muse - no surrealist subject lines, no crazy-ass psuedonyms. It's as if years of outsmarting spam filters had finally taken their toll, and so demoralized them that they can barely summon the energy to peck out 6 or 7 random characters. Even the formermargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-108128832732509192004-04-06T17:33:00.000-04:002004-04-19T10:20:42.700-04:00"Mrs. Jerry Orbach..." "Margo LaRocka-Orbach..."
*sigh*...What IS it about that spindly, stooped-over, schnozzolla'ed figure that -sends- me? Sapphically inclined, non-septuagenarian "Law & Order" devotee that I am.
It's his regular-joe quotient, I think. He's the sort of well-mannered Decent Fella that otherwise thrives solely in the Manhattan of 1930s' filmdom. Where margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1079983204106667782004-03-22T14:02:00.000-05:002004-03-22T21:23:37.373-05:00It's rare indeed that one can sound simultaneously like a Trotskyite AND Pat Buchanan. But here I go: American popular culture is decadent and depraved. It's the opiate of the people and AND a sign of the End Times. Exhibit A: A new show in which people submit to major surgery in order to better resemble minor celebrities. It's on M - for "Mengele" - TV. A silicone-enhanced simulacrum margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1078860272800318462004-03-09T14:24:00.000-05:002004-03-09T20:55:58.436-05:00I have apparently and unexpectedly developed a very specific and utterly useless psychic power. It would seem that I can sense the imminent demise of long-forgotten sitcom character actors, with terrifying accuracy. So far I have only experienced this once - yesterday, in fact - but I think there's no other explanation for this phenomenon: I'm in the shower, lathering up my delicate margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1078432393285075472004-03-04T15:30:00.000-05:002004-03-22T21:32:45.403-05:00Things that I get a receipt for: An ATM withdrawal. A subway ride. A bag of cat litter. Things I cannot get a receipt for: My vote in Tuesday's presidential primary using the new electronic Diebold machines.
I am supposed to be satisfied with the state of Marylands assurances that the system is "safe." In a heartwarming form letter, my legislator informs me that there were no problemsmargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1078353088228520272004-03-03T17:26:00.000-05:002004-03-09T20:58:26.013-05:00I am at this moment listening to a certain radio network's feature about Governor Schwarzenneger's cigar-smoking. Yes, let's do an 8-minute story on that. And tell Dennis Kucinich that there's simply no room for his views during a two-hour broadcast. Or a story about Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia's refusal to recuse himself from cases involving his hunting pal Dick Cheney. Or the factmargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1077837479241448452004-02-26T18:09:00.000-05:002004-02-26T18:35:21.436-05:00An extremely overdue list of things that annoy the bejeeziss outta me:
Gum snapping! Grown women who affect a baby voice! The phrase "sanctity of marriage!" The turn-signally impaired! People who heft their beercan overhead in a celebratory salute and bellow "WHOOO-HOO!" when someone takes their picture! People who talk really loud! Radio jingles that set lyrics about Chevrolets to the margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1077650755884309102004-02-24T14:11:00.000-05:002004-02-24T17:03:54.950-05:00Buckle your safetybelts, gay boys and girls. It's going to be a bumpy campaign season. People are going to be talking about you and it won't be your imagination. Stupid people. Stupid people who call into commercial radio talk shows with poorly-articulated opinions - about YOU. Grown people with names like "Jimmy" and "Amber-a Christian mother of four beautiful boys from Silver Spring margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1077560361475489542004-02-23T13:15:00.000-05:002004-02-24T17:08:07.263-05:00Recent political events have again sent me to my divan with a crippling case of what Grandmama Lilly LaRocka delicately called "agita." In my place today, sister par excellence Loreen LaRocka issues this clarion call of support for an alternative presidential candidate. He may be fictional, but he's still got it all over Bush.... .
I speak, surprisingly enough, of "Moby-Dick"'s Queequeg, the margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1077473754079455092004-02-22T13:15:00.000-05:002004-02-24T16:41:24.263-05:00What a strange bedfellow I am. I suddenly find myself in the position of being vehemently against the candidate I think is the best person for the job. Pissed off, in fact, that he's even running. Ralph Nader, you're killin' me, man. margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1077327516411530082004-02-20T20:38:00.000-05:002004-02-21T08:24:02.466-05:00The two-party system is a sham, a little skit in which one character - a dumb, bloated, narcissist - is represented by two actors with slightly different hairstyles. Coke? or Pepsi? It's your choice, America! Because we got Freedom! ... What do you mean, you want ginger ale? Never heard of it. Let alone green tea or absinthe. Our policitical system reminds me of the depressing ghetto margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1077045406789232792004-02-17T13:56:00.000-05:002004-02-17T16:54:45.153-05:00Things that aren't Natural:
Toilets. Guns. Bathing. The wearing of shoes. SUVs. Television. Eye makeup. Forks. Airplanes. Telephones. Diet Coke with Lime. Shaving. Deodorant. Abercrombie & Fitch. Death by lethal injection.
Homosexuality, however, is found in every single species on the planet.
And anyway, since when did these anti-gay-marriage morons decide to embrace margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1076442645423456112004-02-10T14:50:00.000-05:002004-02-10T15:09:37.390-05:00The "President" has suddenly found his pay stubs and sent li'l Scott McLellan out to present them to the press corps, like a tray of hors d'oeuvres. As if to whet their appetites for more prepackaged prevarication.
What does this prove? Only that the future Worst President Ever got paychecks. Yet when a press corp member did the unthinkable and asked a probing follow-up question, Scott margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1076360822570966982004-02-09T16:07:00.000-05:002004-02-21T08:34:42.390-05:00Forgive me if I don't entirely believe that Martha Stewart is the only person to ever get an inside stock tip. So why is Martha being fitted for the fetching orange coveralls? Why is the nation salivating at the prospect of Ms. Stewart making lavender-scented sachets from solitary?
The guys from Enron, who spent the pensions of their longtime employees on platinum shoe horns and ruby-encrustedmargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1076349778997317462004-02-09T12:54:00.000-05:002004-02-10T15:06:28.263-05:00Bush seems to have a profound and ongoing connection to the missing. Several thousand election ballots, Osama Bin Laden, WMD, and most interestingly, himself. To wit: How is it that Bush cannot prove he was anywhere in particular for parts of 1972 and 1973? He was allegedly at an Alabama military base, but - and this is the oddest thing, isn't it? - all records of this have mysteriously margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1076003606209761382004-02-05T12:52:00.000-05:002004-02-21T08:42:16.340-05:00The national breasteria continues.
Why has Janet Jackson been booted from the Grammys, while the white man who ripped open her blouse has not? Moreover, why boot anyone? No teevee for you, you dirty girl, until you think long and hard about what you've done. Meanwhile, 50c will get up on stage and rap about rape and homicide and no one will act the least bit offended. Just don't make margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1075777063887370292004-02-02T21:57:00.000-05:002004-02-21T08:44:15.216-05:00We aren't so afraid of Al Qaida anymore, and have never been much concerned about the fascist takeover of our own country. But MAN! Are we ever frightened of Janet Jackson's right breast. Every time you turned on talk radio today, people were calling in to complain that television "isn't safe to watch anymore," and that Janet Jackson's right breast should NOT have invaded their homes during margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1075581330045974232004-01-31T15:35:00.000-05:002004-02-03T09:45:38.310-05:00So Howard Dean screeched for 1. 5 seconds during a speech. So the fuck what? Has he turned a 3 billion dollar surplus into a 4 billion dollar debt? Has he put our natural resources, national health and national well-being up for sale to the highest bidder? Has he broken his campaign promise about not engaging in "nation-building" by invading a soverign nation and killing thousands of peoplemargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1075581112142010982004-01-31T15:31:00.000-05:002004-01-31T15:34:04.950-05:00I can see where this is leading. First, there will be a rumor floated that Bin laden is hiding in an ingeniously-engineered system of underground caves. We send in troops to route him out. We lay claim to the territory, set up a "provisional government" and eventually claim it as a colony. We will find oil there, and the stock market will boom and the government will hand out billions of margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1074187757694466872004-01-15T12:24:00.000-05:002004-01-15T12:32:51.450-05:00So much to rant about lately: Bush's insane plan to drill for oil on the moon. The Diebold machines. (note to self: Start band. Name it "The Diebold Machines.) The complete failure of American journalism. I could go on and on. And yet in the midst of this, a ray of sunshine. Just when I had given up hope of discovering a new ASSLHOF inductee, along comes this:
no fatty is margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1073664579811447132004-01-09T11:09:00.000-05:002004-01-09T11:11:23.606-05:00So George Bush is going to put a man on the moon. Maybe next he’ll announce the discovery of a polio vaccine or the development of Fortran.
George W. Bush: Building the bridge to the mid-twentieth century. Oh those halcyon days when the Military Industrial Complex was still a rosy-cheeked maiden, when the poor kept mum and the coloreds knew their place.
margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1071527274939820132003-12-15T17:24:00.000-05:002003-12-15T17:29:05.826-05:00Are we to believe that 22-year-old Strom Thurmond fell deeply in love with his parents' 16-year-old Black maid, defying the racist environment into which he was born? And further that this mutual May-December passion drew them inexorably into each others arms?
Cause if not, Strom Thurmond was a rapist.
margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1070387565771662902003-12-02T12:46:00.000-05:002003-12-15T17:31:30.560-05:00How is it that the half-hearted effort to develop an alternative to driving cars had been transformed into a serious effort to find an alternative to walking? Two generations since the idea was proposed, no functional electric or solar power car is yet on the market. But if you want to quit using your appendages altogether, why any number of options await you, you lazyass.
The Razor scooter margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-107030997804604382003-12-01T15:58:00.000-05:002003-12-01T15:59:46.326-05:00Does Presidential Candidate John Kerry's position on Medicare reform experience terrifying auditory hallucinations? Does it have paranoid delusions that haunt its every waking moment?
Then to Slate.com writer Timothy Noah - and practically everyone else in existence - I should like to point out that said medicare reform position is not "schizoid" or "schizophrenic." Using schizophrenic margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1068654319799535522003-11-12T11:25:00.000-05:002003-11-12T11:50:22.983-05:00Today's ASSLHOF inductee: One, probably fictional, Colette Putnam, who has deposited this gem of Steinien word-saladry in the inbox:
RE: cancellate montgomery planet sovereignty
Gorgeous, isn't it? Thank you, fictional Colette!
margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1068487503163923722003-11-10T13:02:00.000-05:002003-11-10T13:05:40.716-05:00It's been far too long since we've inducted anything into our Absurd Spam Subject Line Hall of Fame. But finally a worthwhile contendor has appeared in the ASSLHOF inbox. I'm pleased to present our latest honoree. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for:
Re: trophies changing undid mechanic gusty
margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1068421065281819442003-11-09T18:37:00.000-05:002003-11-10T12:12:02.793-05:00And then SuperPrivate Jessica Lynch used her cyber-tentacles to suction her way out of the bunker, then flew to the top of the biggest minaret on Saddam's palace, where she clapped her magic bracelets together and shouted "Washington! Jefferson! Adams! I summon the awesome power of the League of Founding Fathers." Lightening and thunder erupted as she twirled around faster than the speed of margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1067879910674802362003-11-03T12:06:00.000-05:002003-11-10T12:14:04.796-05:00We slipped off the top of the charts for a while, but we're BACK, baby! The town in which I live has once again taken its rightful place as Homicide Capital of the United States of America! Rock on, murderers!
Violent gang-related crime. Outrageous cost of living. Traffic. Stultifying boredom! Horrible radio stations! Snipers, anthrax, and the sense of imminent terrorist attack!! margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1067871021027508392003-11-03T09:41:00.000-05:002003-11-03T09:54:41.640-05:00From this morning's papers: "Monkeys terrorize Indian Government."
Apparently, the monkeys of the Subcontinent are feeling their oats these days and have made it past security in several official government buildings, where they are attacking people and pooping on everything in site.
As ever, all wisdom flows from India. Let us look to their wise example. Let us look to the monkeys. margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1065628750935456852003-10-08T11:54:00.000-04:002003-10-08T12:03:12.190-04:00I woke up this morning to the sound of - what was it? A vague tittering, it seemed, from very far aware. Was it, yes...the sound of the rest of the known universe mocking us.
God Bless America. Just when I think my countrymen have become as stupid as it's physically possible for a species to be, they go and elect Arnold Schwarzenegger as Governor of California.
margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1065628354187690322003-10-08T11:46:00.000-04:002003-10-08T12:01:50.600-04:00A week's vacation in dreamy Portland, OR has only served to make me loathe Our Nation's harumphing Capital even more. How I'll miss the punkrock schoolmarms riding fat-tire bikes, the drive-through espresso stations, the freakishly large Mt. Hood, the tatty DIY authenticity... I could go on enumerating Portland's virtues, but it would only make you want to move there. Although since this sitemargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1064287779032180942003-09-22T23:29:00.000-04:002003-09-23T11:59:14.943-04:00Your Margo returns at last to these bloggy shores, having had her wig mildly rumpled by the disappointing Hurricane Isabel. The gentle breeze that necessitated a federal emergency declaration did not manage to fell any oaks, mighty or otherwise, or send so much as a garden gnome into the stratosphere. Even the gay flowers adorning the lush grounds of the swank Chateau Margeau condominiums margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1063722617317463782003-09-16T09:58:00.000-04:002003-09-23T11:51:16.306-04:00RE: the kissing of Britney Spears by Madonna Ciccone and the baffling public interest that attended it.
Madonna is a brainless tool of the capitalist patriarchy, a quisling even. If girl-girl smoochin’ is still an incendiary act in America, then I do not want it deployed in the service of selling crappy Top 40 albums. I want it set off on the floor of Congress, or, more radically still, margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1063384092073663592003-09-12T12:28:00.000-04:002003-09-23T11:54:45.930-04:00We can all breathe a little easier today. While Bin Laden strolls dreamily through the Pakistani countryside, while rapists, corrupt government officials and the CEO's who love them somehow manage to elude the grip of John Law, Tommy Chong at least is off the streets. Nine months in the hoosegow for selling bongs. Not drugs. But blown-glass objects into which drugs could conceivably find margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1063136776975879802003-09-09T15:46:00.000-04:002003-09-09T15:46:16.856-04:00Hello? Hello? Oh, sorry, must’ve missed you. This is Margo and I guess I’ll just go ahead and leave a message if that’s okay.
I just wanted to let you know that I’m in your neighborhood installing your neighbor’s satellite dish and I’ve got a really great offer for you. I’ll be in the office until 10 PM tonight and I’d hate for you to miss the offer so I’ll tell ya what, why don’t you go margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1062079114894776742003-08-28T09:58:00.000-04:002003-08-28T15:32:06.120-04:00Item, found in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch:
Thanks to timely plugs from HBO's "Sex and the City" series ... Dr. Scholl's wooden sandals have been the "it" shoe for this summer.
And people wonder how Bush got into the White House.
Must....imitate....Must...purchase...horrid....uncomfortabe...orthopedic...sandals. When Fall Teevee seasin start agin? I no can wait! I not know what buy or margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1061926286776803602003-08-26T15:31:00.000-04:002003-08-28T11:06:13.510-04:00Ms. LaRocka has nothing against religion. As a matter of fact, I hope to have my own, as soon as I can think up a name. "Zoroastrianism," darn the luck, is already taken, while "Margoism" seems a tad self-aggrandazing. Though I suppose the aggrandizing is the whole point.
Anyway. However warmly one feels towards people who feel warmly toward Jesus, Mohammed or Juno, and while they may margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1060734494526817972003-08-12T20:28:00.000-04:002003-08-15T13:10:09.946-04:00I've just returned from a grueling 35 minutes at the gym, and am visibily beaming with a combination of good health and annoyance. It's bad enough that my pursuit of some minimal muscle-tone requires me to suffer the indignity of donning actual athletic wear. Far worse though is that once at the gymnasium, I encounter Other People. People who, predictably, get Margo's muscular goat. And margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1059422396801898812003-07-28T15:59:00.000-04:002003-08-12T20:05:10.616-04:00I will always remember where I was the moment I heard the news: The movie SpyKids2 surprised the experts and outsold TombRaider2 at the box-office this weekend.
Jeez, what the hell is wrong with NPR? It's bad enough that the commercial outlets now consider movie receipts to be newsworthy. What next, I say? "Wrigley's surprised gumwatchers by besting Trident in weekend gum sales." ? Etc.margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1058283692537916262003-07-15T11:41:00.000-04:002003-07-17T17:18:59.710-04:00I now direct my patented Withering Scowl at one Richard Chamberlain. Those of you over the age of 30 may recall him as the star of the popular television mini-series event "The Thorn Birds." Those of you over 40 may very dimly recall him as the star of "Dr. Kildaire" a series your parents watched sometimes while dandling you on their knees as you happily gummed a Lincoln Log.
Richard margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1058206774178071822003-07-14T14:19:00.000-04:002003-11-10T12:28:57.903-05:00I am toying with the theory that I emit some sort of odorless but powerful pheremone which instantly incapacitates service providers. The recent Bead Store Incident, the Hour Eyes Saga are but two examples. Most recently I was the recipient of a physical examination that could only have been made more bizarre had it involved an alien abduction.
The doctor misreads my chart and becomes margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1057689047549601732003-07-08T14:30:00.000-04:002003-07-08T15:58:30.860-04:00I can't keep these guys straight: Elliot Smith, Ben Folds, Matthew Sweet, and that one other one. And Dave Matthews.
Just sayin'.
margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1057604150204668712003-07-07T14:55:00.000-04:002003-07-07T15:41:08.336-04:00Today I begin a new semi-regular feature here at Cranky. The Weird Spam Subject Line Hall of Fame. Let's induct this one (submitted by LaReen LaRocka, sister in asburdist spam appreciation) immediately:
Deem High-quality About Youself Early In The Present Day 1191
What can I say about this one? So filled with poorly communicated concern for my self-esteem, while simultaneously hinting atmargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1057597136244158732003-07-07T12:58:00.000-04:002003-07-07T14:12:25.196-04:00Supermodels. Captains of Industry. Television sports anchors. These are the people one expects to be egotistical.
But bead-store employees?
I went into a bead store (a BEAD store! What extremely-specific-retail outlet will I patronize next? A pushpin shoppe?) the other day. And never have I encountered such impatient eye-rolling, such utter indifference to my needs outside of my margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1057249762216863792003-07-03T12:29:00.000-04:002003-07-07T12:27:15.813-04:00Europe has voted to require that any American GMO foods be labelled as such.
But wait. GW, Goofus to the world's Gallant is promising this issue will hold up trade negotiations. Look out EU!! If you thought we trashed Iraq, wait'll we unleash the Killer Broccoli on yer fancypants continent. Our greatest agribusinessy minds are as we speak developing a Rodan-size half-mango/half-escarole margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1056996266873821672003-06-30T14:04:00.000-04:002003-06-30T14:04:26.850-04:00With the death of Miss Katherine Houghton Hepburn, there are officially no famous people left whose deaths will affect me in the least. I suppose there's something to be said for that.
margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-1056642389706682992003-06-26T11:46:00.000-04:002003-06-30T14:08:41.560-04:00Turns out that a majority of our Supreme Court Justices do in fact posess the raw intelligence god gave potting soil. By a 6 to 3 vote the Supremes today displayed an impressive grasp of the obvious and ruled the Texas sodomy laws...and by extension all laws prohibiting same-sexcapades...illegal.
I suggest my same-sex readers celebrate in the obvious way.
I shall be happy to oblige the moremargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-951293092003-05-31T15:52:00.000-04:002003-06-02T14:36:45.000-04:00I no longer expect good to triumph over evil, true love to conquer all, American democracy to endure. I no longer believe that, in spite of it all, people are good. I don't expect the environment to be preserved, americans to get decent healthcare or economic justice.
But for the love of Benji, is it really too much to ask for a little peace and quiet? Really, that's all I'm asking for margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-950380382003-05-29T11:52:00.000-04:002003-05-29T11:52:01.166-04:00If you had a whole week with absolutely no obligations, your actions subservient only to your own momentary desires how would you spend it? Yeah, Bermuda, going to the movies, staying up late and carousing. This is what I imagine most of us would do.
As it turns out, guided by nothing but my own momentary desires, I will spend several days lying in bed thinking simple-minded thoughts, andmargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-942147892003-05-12T13:47:00.000-04:002003-06-16T10:59:55.000-04:00Here is how I'm going to get rich kwik. I am planning to patent a diagnostic test and offer it for use by the Am. Psychological Association. Its purpose: to identify the mentally ill female members of any group. It works this way: I am placed in a roomful of women in varying states of mental health and, like a drugsniffing police dog or sheparding Corgi, I will separate the reasonably margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-942020862003-05-12T09:51:00.000-04:002003-05-12T16:40:58.000-04:00For the last year, I've watched with an interesting mix of horror, outrage and amusement as the spammers try new techniques to evade hotmail's anti-spam technology. Technology which, if I may point out, is apparently rather rudimentary insofar as it does not appear to catch emails whose subject lines read "Hot Farm Girls F--ing Nigerian 411 Scam Artists for Natural Weight Loss Herb." The only margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-936091402003-05-01T14:46:00.000-04:002003-05-01T17:33:58.000-04:00It is a fact that thousands of people starve to death each year, in whatever part of earth doesn't have a Whole Foods yet. Africa, I think.
But here in the Mall of America, we understand their pain. We aren't so different really. They can't seem to find enough food. Whereas we can't seem to find enough truly exciting ways to eat food. We are as a people tired of the uptight, margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-933516182003-04-27T14:14:00.000-04:002003-05-12T16:51:37.000-04:00The "evidence" of WPD and terrorist links used to justify the invasion of Iraq have all been proven to have been false. The war IS about oil and world domination and America is being run by evil men and the corporations who love them.
And now, back to the many trivial annoyances that constitute a daily plague upon my wellbeing, the description of which may or may not result in your amusement.margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-928928962003-04-19T12:27:00.000-04:002003-04-22T09:44:56.000-04:00And now let us pause to laud that rarest of men.
Here's to you, Hummer purchaser! Unlike the rest of us, you are not afraid to let the world know exactly who you are. A man controlled by crippling insecurity, a man who is publicly overcompensating for his shortcomings. A man who dares to sit above the crowd and proclaim "I have the biggest car ever!!"
So few of us would have what it margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-926589082003-04-15T12:43:00.000-04:002003-04-22T09:49:21.000-04:00The violent destruction of an entire nation, the desecration of its antiquities; the overthrow of America by a fascist cabal of murderous corporate zealots...well, all that's ONE thing. But now you mean to tell me that MICHAEL JORDAN is leaving the game? The HORROR. Are we as Americans expected to stand idly by as a beloved product spokesperson and courtside gum-snapper stops entertaining margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-922880132003-04-09T09:22:00.000-04:002003-04-10T18:39:39.000-04:00Blame it on spring, if you will. But I have lately found myself imagining our military leaders hopping gleefully all over the Iraqi landscape, planting traces of biochem agents and nuclearized warheads as though they were colorful chocolate eggs. Just picture the delighted face of L'il Condeeleza padding downstairs in her nightgown to find someone has left her a little basket of smoking guns margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-922621122003-04-08T22:35:00.000-04:002003-04-10T10:56:04.000-04:00Why have they replaced the aluminum cans in the 7-11 with mostly non-recyclable plastic containers?
Yes, I'm concerned about the environment. As much as the next fella, unless that fella is Christy Todd Whitman. But also - dammit, soda just isn't as -fizzy- in a plastic bottle. And I am ALL about the fizz.
And while I am on the subject of my beloved carbonated beverages, it has come tomargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-921618032003-04-07T13:46:00.000-04:002003-04-10T18:03:06.000-04:00So this old veteran who lives in my building looks at my Stop The War bumper sticker and tells me "I just don't see it...Y'all shouldn't be protesting when our boys are over there dying. It's just not right."
"Support our troops" is what he's saying, the latest government-designed catch phrase. Like most catch phrases, it has almost no actual meaning and exists merely to sell you something. "margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-914158882003-03-26T10:35:00.000-05:002003-04-02T14:12:51.000-05:00We've lost our allies. We've lost any claim to moral authority. We've lost the trust and goodwill of the entire planet. We've set the stage for the complete destablization of the Middle East, and, eventually, the world. We've made the U.N. irrelevant. We've thrust our nation into debt. We've reinforced the image of the US as a corrupt, bullying, self-serving, tacky, uneducated, margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-909214972003-03-18T08:45:00.000-05:002003-03-18T08:45:09.543-05:00A beautiful Code Orange sunrise today. When the terrorists hit us again, remember who pissed them off.
If instigating WWIII had been part of his campaign platform, would he be living in the pretty white house on Pennsylvania Ave? I'd like to think not. But I can't. Because that would mean I didn't think our electoral process was a complete sham and that, even if it weren't, Americans margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-905399622003-03-11T15:10:00.000-05:002003-06-13T14:09:55.000-04:00Langston Hughes' poetry. deejaying as an artform. Bob Dylan. wine. vigorous exercise. cheesecake. Robert DeNiro. opera. driving fast. expensive jewelry. Charlie Rose. Nelly. truffles. America.
All overrated.
margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-902027632003-03-05T18:30:00.000-05:002003-11-12T12:33:03.686-05:00One reads, or more accurately hears from a friends who saw it on teevee, that officials in New Orleans want to make Mardi Gras more "Family Friendly." I must protest this and all similar efforts in the most strenuous terms.
First of all, what can the term "family friendly" mean other than "childish?" For if by "family" one means "a group of related adults and children", then any event margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-898472842003-02-27T12:13:00.000-05:002003-03-03T13:11:03.000-05:00While I realize its tempting to hate the French because anti-French jokes have become a predictable trope on television situation comedies, don't do it! The French are all right! Really. They bear little resemblance to the supercilious maitres d' who made Potsy's big date so hilarious. The French are educated. They take long vacations and leisurely lunches and don't really care what you margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-896184832003-02-23T17:49:00.000-05:002003-02-23T17:49:13.826-05:00Please, NPR. I'm beggin' ya! The expression is "CARROT ON A STICK. "
There is no such expression as "carrots and sticks" which too many of your reporters use to mean "an array of incentives and punishments". Rather, the expression "carrot on a stick" has long indicated a reward that can never obtained. Y'know, like civil rights for lesbians or a decent US minimum wage. This seems to margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-894997992003-02-21T10:21:00.000-05:002003-02-23T17:50:32.000-05:00Well I hardly expected to be writing about poultry two days in a row. I never even think about chickens let alone eat their grilled corpse-meat. But by some strange turn of events, yet another chicken-related outrage has come to my attention. Remember this anecdote, next time someone you're feel inclined to swell with pride about the the American Democratic Process.
On accounta it turns outmargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-893762612003-02-19T11:53:00.000-05:002003-05-29T12:16:59.000-04:00My mother was highly regarded in several New Jersey townships for, among other things, a confection known as Coffee Toffee Pie. As a child developing a premature interest in caffeine, I loved this dessert more than any other. I hovered around the kitchen like an extremely adorable vulture as she prepared the batter, waiting to get my little mitts on The Spoon. I would in fact have injected themargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-889322612003-02-11T16:19:00.000-05:002003-02-13T10:03:29.000-05:00No funny today.
Saddam Hussein is in all likelihood one of the evil-est bastards on the face of the earth. I don't dispute this. What I dispute is the notion that this indicates the necessity of a war, on iraq, by the United States. Consider what mere TALK of war has already wrought:
- Alan Greenspan says public concern about possible war and terrorist retaliation is screwing up the margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-888117372003-02-09T15:45:00.000-05:002003-02-14T09:11:09.000-05:00My daily spam customarily features solicitations for products that guarantee I will have a "Bigger Love Tool." I don't respond, of course, as mine is quite adequate, thank you very much. I am not, however, offended. In fact I'm almost charmed by the use of the euphemism "love tool." It's kind of sweet even, when compared with the far less genteel expressions they might have employed.
I margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-886022032003-02-05T13:45:00.000-05:002003-02-20T17:21:27.000-05:00If I awake at 3 AM on a Monday with a yen for some crack, I have only to step outside my building and give a hearty "top o' the mornin', good sir!" to the enterprising youngster slouching outside the depressingly crappy mini-mart next door. Once the Dysthymia Mart opens, I can easily obtain rolling papers, Phillies Blunts, or a bandana in my choice of Crip Blue or Blood Red.
So I don't margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-884217092003-02-02T09:23:00.000-05:002003-02-03T12:51:07.000-05:00Most American's have become so numb by television that they are willing to PAY to feel something, even something unpleasant. This explains theme park rides and dominatrixes and Wes Craven movies. We have been trained to say" Please make me hurt so I can pay you to make the hurt go away. " Make me worry about something and then give me the solution. Make me wonder if I might be imperfect in margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-883357392003-01-31T12:36:00.000-05:002003-03-13T14:33:51.000-05:00Why is everything giant all of a sudden? Despite Lara Flynn Boyle's appearance to the contrary, we're supposedly a nation of Fat Fat Fatties. Pants are still baggy. Meals are supersized. Scientists at the Southland Corporation labs have recently developed a drink even bigger than the Super Big Gulp. (I forget the name. The Big Bladder maybe.)
And now we have Baby's First SUV.
Havemargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-883330402003-01-31T11:39:00.000-05:002003-01-31T18:25:39.000-05:00I have worn the same pair of sneakers for 5 years now. I got them at Ross Dress For Less (perennial winner of the annual Retailer with the Most Pairs of Double-"S" Words in Their Name Award.) I have managed to run on the treadmill regularly without my shinbones snapping in two. They protect my lovely feet from rusty nails and ringworm while supporting my osteoporitic (make that "margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-881765402003-01-28T16:34:00.000-05:002003-01-29T14:37:17.000-05:00The unpleasantness of modern life has forced me to retreat to the divan for the afternoon, Hollywood Babylon in one hand, lime rickey in the other.
So I'm taking a page from one of the most gifted satirists of our age, Mr. Bil Keane, and turning today's entry over to a cherished family member. Here's an addendum to yesterday's rant written by my dear sibling, Loreen La Rocka. She has justmargohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-881126972003-01-27T15:05:00.000-05:002003-01-29T14:38:53.000-05:00I believe that children are our future.
But so is everything else that will be alive in three seconds: adults, proboscis monkeys, plankton. Three...two...one...Hey look!. It's the future! I'm in it and so are you! With or without children, we made it here. Sure, probably some people didn't (none of the ones -I- would have picked, I'm sure), but I think I've made my point.
Do margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-878463992003-01-22T11:23:00.000-05:002003-03-13T14:58:00.000-05:00Choosing to live in America is sort of like choosing to answer one of those advertisements promising you a Totally Free Vacation. The ones that require you to be held captive and interrogated for 4 hours by a smarmy real estate agent, trying to sell you a timeshare using tactics expressly outlawed by the Geneva Convention. (A coworker of mine recently endured a face-off with these characters margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-875488812003-01-16T14:55:00.000-05:002003-01-20T11:39:40.000-05:00Yesterday, the sage jurists of the U.S. Supreme Court took a principaled stand on behalf of the little guy. The shirtless ratfaced little guy. The universally fetishized vermin who serves as the logo for the plucky little Mom and Pop, the ABC/Disney Corporation. While humans sit on death row, while gay people remain second-class citizens, while the District of Columbia is denied a margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-874819662003-01-15T11:45:00.000-05:002003-01-17T12:20:07.000-05:00It's come to my attention that my ranting has become more obsessively crack-potty of late. I feel a need to return to the simple joys of complaining about the many ways in which The Man tries to beat me down. This does not represent a turning away from my conspiracy theories, but rather an elucidation of them. Because the annoyances of American life are products of the awful materialist margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-874814522003-01-15T11:33:00.000-05:002003-01-16T09:43:20.000-05:00It's too late. Protest is futile, revolution impossible. The Matrix has been under construction for years, but America was so busy watching Monday Night Football and going on government-sanctioned shopping sprees that no one noticed.
This weekend, I'll go to the anti-war rally downtown knowing full well that while Al Sharpton demonstrates the amazing new ChopMatic Kitchen Wizard (or margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-871122192003-01-08T09:11:00.000-05:002003-01-16T09:37:17.000-05:00With your kind permission, I will now put my thang down, flip it and reverse it. Call me a hata. But I'm sick of rap. There is nothing revolutionary about it anymore. In fact, it's one of Big Bro's most ingenious tools. Jesus, gentlemen...peppering your rhymes with brand-names does not amount to kicking The Man's mighty ass. The Man is only too happy to let you win him the elusive street margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-870725002003-01-07T14:33:00.000-05:002003-01-10T09:48:13.000-05:00Why don't the Grammy people just get real and rename them "The Awards To People on the Warner Brothers Label Who Sold the Most Albums to Teenagers Who Shop At Sam Goody." ?
margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3585501.post-868909362003-01-03T15:46:00.000-05:002003-01-06T13:51:03.000-05:00I've been seeing these commercials for some new show called "Senator James Brolin's Son". I may have the name wrong. It's about this Senator who is competent, inspirational, and incorruptible. And for a moment, I got a little excited. "Well, it's about friggin' TIME" I thought.
And then it hit me. That's EXACTLY what They want me to feel.
"Senator Brolin" is, like "The West Wing," margohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07186068039571706040noreply@blogger.com0