Michelle Malkin on Rachel Ray’s scarf.
Perhaps we should also ban the wearing of crosses, a symbol for which folks have been instigating holy wars for quite some time.
Michelle Malkin is a stupid cow.
Rants Category
Scarfgate
Saturday, May 31st, 2008and now a word about thongs
Saturday, May 31st, 2008First of all, what the hell is wrong with a nice, healthy Visible Panty Line? I hope to goodness you are all wearing panties out there, and frankly, I would prefer to see the hard, cold evidence.
Things that are unsightly:
1. your trousers conforming to each divet in your dimpled buttocks
2. your RUFFLED, DENIM thong line, by which you missed the InVPL by several bumpy miles
3. your trousers or dress getting pinched between your buttocks for lack of the panty creating the beautiful illusion that women do not have butt cracks
4. the rippling quiver of your unfettered buttocks as you ascend the stairs in front of me
And truly, the thong is just as visible as the granniest pair of knickers out there. It has seams, yes? and likely sits atop your skin at some point? and contains elastic banding within? Then do not kid yourself that you are pulling one over on us.
And now I will take my seat on the front porch with the other grouchy grannies grumbling about the gremlins of this generation. Thank you.
May 10
Sunday, May 11th, 2008I’m toying with the idea of having a Music Friday, or similarly themed weekdays, in order to give my wimpy inner writer some manageable goals. Much like one would encourage a hopelessly un-potty-trained child to just pee in her diaper NEXT to the toilet, that’s a good start, dear.
Naturally, I would have 2 hours worth of technical difficulties, in which I refused to ask P for help in loading up a new imeem playlist and slipping its code into the correct place, but after he became sick of hearing all the goddammits and huffing coming from the studio and I had hurled my martyred self across the bed, he very graciously went through it with me. And again, the machine noticed that the person using it had a penis and cooperated exactly as it should have.
So here is my musical offering, gentle reader (I know there’s only one of you. Hi, KL!).
1. Music is the Victim- Scissor Sisters. One of my favorite work-out songs, and very appropriate because my daddy actually DOES go on a “dog run.”
2. You Turn Me On, I’m a Radio- Joni Mitchell. Fell in love with her in college, thanks to my matchless roompit’s CD collection and haven’t looked back. This song is completely out of sync with the others on this list, so you will perhaps want to save it for sunny afternoon of dancing around in the house in your underwear.
3. I Love to Boogie- T Rex. From the Billy Elliot soundtrack!
4. Fat-Bottom Girls- Queen. Inappropriate! Rousing! Why can’t high school choirs sing this? May lead to raccous lip-syncing and compromising rock-star poses.
Tuesday, April 15th, 2008
Dear Ringwood,
I no longer live there. You may have noticed when you addressed your “where to vote in Ringwood” notice to me in Montclair. Please address all future correspondence to actual residents of your fair borough.
Many thanks,
Jtango
Mother F. Nature
Tuesday, March 25th, 2008Ok, so the Canadians would laugh if they knew I was even making the comparison, but this article conveys exactly how I feel about winter:
Be sure to read the whole thing. Go on, do it! It’s not like you were on your way to the beach.
oh, ew.
Wednesday, February 6th, 2008Across the hall, my boss just made an appointment for a bikini and lip wax.
So now I know that.
This is the same woman who, with the office door wide open, loudly called her doctor to set up her colonoscopy, since she had just turned 50, then primly informed me in whispered tones that she would be out the next day for some “procedures.”
Which reminds me there was another loud phone/open door episode where she discussed her son’s genital health with his doctor and then with her husband.
I feel uncomfortable making a hair appointment at work and always close the door and turn on my space heater.
She’s just called her senile mother, so I’d better head out for a lunch break NOW.
It’s 1:30 am, and I feel like this
Friday, January 25th, 2008
Wednesday, December 19th, 2007
J3 wrote me a fabulous email story about Thanksgiving with the family. Although it’s a pretty sucky tale, I find bits of it funny and the whole thing brilliantly related:
i was planning to make mom/grandma/j6 photo albums
w/wedding pictures, so they’d quit bugging me about
them. naturally, i thought about it too late, didn’t
finish the project, and ended up bringing down the
laptop with digital photos to look at instead. bad
mistake.mom looked at the photos once on thursday, didn’t say
anything all day friday, then sat morning made the
whole family get up at 5 to get ready to go, then
wanted to look at the photos one more time. so she
sits there going through 100 or so photos, writing
down the name of each one in a notebook (which will
probably be saved forEVER) and this takes like 2
hours, with the rest of the fam sitting around waiting
to go…then she is like, ‘now what should i do?
should i send you the list and then you take it to the
photo shop and find out the price and send me the
price and i send you the money and you send me the
pictures …OR…blah blah blah fifty different
scenarios’ and i’m like, no just tell me which ones
you want, i’ll send them to you. ‘but what about the
money?! should i a/b/c scenarios…?’
me: no, what i said before.
mom: but won’t you need the money or…blah blah?’
me: no. what. i. said. before.
mom: (blow up)CAN’T you TRY to HELP me OUT i’m TRYING
to COMMUNICATE about WHO is paying for WHAT so we
don’t have these misunderSTANDings etc etc. SOB
thanks for a great HOLiday SOB see you in another
YEAR!!! (run out of the house slam)
of course only then did i think of the brilliant plan
where i just give her a damn cd which she can do
whatever the hell she wants with, but i tried to bring
it up when she came back in to get a bag:
me: mom, i have a better idea–
mom: well i DON’T think i want to HEAR IT (stalk out,
slam)
so, that was the end of the family visit, with dad and
the kids sheepishly following her to the car and
grandma saying, ‘well, it’s a shame it had to end that
way.’
This has all the elements of a classic family event: Mom getting people up at insanely early hours, everyone sitting around helplessly during Mom’s agenda, Mom presenting an endless line-up of scenarios and options to an unwilling audience, Dad submitting to everything, Mom having a fit, and Grandma unable to register or admit that her daughter is mad as pants. Awesome.
Spiders in my soul
Wednesday, December 12th, 2007Gave up yet another anxiety-reducing day at the gym for a mad xmas shopping dash. Was put in resentful frame of mind toward fellow man and season in general.
Mood slightly lifted to overhear in elevator:
“and he was, like, completely unable to grope them!”
and then found this delicious spam email title:
“PenisMountainousBlanche”
Where does the mental image settle? on pervy desserts, a la J3’s bachelorette cake? A Streetcar Named Desire? The bottom half of Mt. Rushmore? I find I am quite distracted from my Grinchiness.
You think I’m a potty humor-obsessed grouch, but see? a list of positive things
Monday, November 26th, 2007Today I am the cartoon character with one thick black line for an eyebrow and two eyeballs sagging beneath it and a dark scribble of funk over my head. Tried looking for some clipart of a grumpy Calvin, but no luck.
After a long, med-free day of driving, traffic, coming home to Rt. 46 U-turns, frenzied media research and a late bedtime, I woke up as grumpy as humanly possible and in serious need of some prunes and bran.
The rainy train ride was tainted by my two seatmates, Pack-a-Day and The Macy’s Perfume Department. When Macy’s left her umbrella on the floor, I decided against pointing it out. Two much nicer humans saw it, though, and pointed it out to me, thinking it was mine. I felt briefly chastised, but frankly, the woman could use a good rinse. With any luck her co-workers will not spend their mornings with dry, itchy eyes from her perfume overdose.
On the bright side:
1. The train arrived at Walnut St. before I did and stopped between the lowered gates. I ducked under the gates, walked around in front of the train and boarded!!!! No cops giving tickets! No announcement from the engineer to bar the young lady with the brown coat from boarding! The conductor saw me coming and held the door for me!
2. My laptop battery lasted the entire ride to work.
3. My green tea smells like fish, but it has soothed me somewhat.
4. When we got home last night, there were two packages for me, and they contained neither aluminum, foam, plastic, or packaging. These had finally arrived (and in the interest of this Pollyanna list, I will save my ire on the cost and length of delivery for the Shoe Metro customer service) and so had this beautiful thing, which I’ll wear to a family wedding this weekend:
