High school bully: Hey, pimple face. I’m gonna kick your ass!
Pimple face guy: I should tell you that "the activity of male hormones, androgens, can give rise to acne during adolescence, but may also protect against coronary heart disease in adulthood, UK researchers report."
High school bully: No shit! Awesome! You mean your acne can actually help your pimple face live a longer and healthier life?
Pimple face guy: Perhaps, high school bully. But you know, this medical news always has a twist to it. "Androgens also appear to be associated with an increased risk of dying from prostate cancer, the study in the American Journal of Epidemiology suggests."
High school bully: Pimply-faced loser. I’m so gonna kick your ass!
Month: June 2005 (Page 3 of 5)
Danica McKellar in Stuff Magazine (July 2005)
The last I heard about Danica McKellar (Winnie Cooper on The Wonder Years), she was a UCLA math genius publishing a paper on “Percolation and Gibbs states multiplicity for ferromagnetic Ashkin-Teller models on Z2” (no joke).
Of course, since there is a tremendous glut of brilliant female mathematicians in American academia, Ms. McKellar chose the more difficult path of trying to drum up more acting roles by posing in her underwear for Stuff Magazine.
Danica, I understand you’re all grown up now and an attractive woman, but I felt a little uncomfortable looking at Winnie like this. To be fair, I wouldn’t want to see Fred Savage in his Jockeys either.
Yesterday, trying to be the healthy person I want to be, I bought one of those Naked Juices from the supermarket. I was intrigued by a new juice they had named Mango Acai.
AÇAÃ, (pronounced ah-sigh-ee) looks like a blueberry but don’t let the familiar facade fool you. This power berry is harvested from the top of palm trees in the Brazilian Rainforest, and it’s one of the most nutritious fruits on earth. Açaà packs 50% more antioxidant (vitamins A & C) punch than pomegranate, contains Omega fatty acids, vitamin E, amino acids and- what’s this? – calcium? You bet. And the taste? Think chocolate covered berries, then whip in sweet juicy mangoes and you’ll be AHHH-sigh-eeing with every sip
That certainly sounded more healthy than buying another cup of coffee at the Coffee Bean. The Mango Acai tasted pretty good, and with all those antioxidants, I left the store with a new vigor and vitality. I went to pick up some shirts in the cleaners and flirted with the girl behind the counter. I was feeling suddenly very lustful. Images of torrid sex against the steamer with Natalie (it was written on her shirt) filled my mind. Her lips, her breasts, the glimpse of her inner thighs as she reached up for my shirts in her shorts. I gave her a wink and smile before I left.
I got home and threw up. I almost fainted. I then spent the entire night in the bathroom from drinking this juice. I’m still home, sick to my stomach.
Was it too healthy for me? Damn the Brazilian rainforest! I’m sticking to that cup of coffee.
NOTE: I should thank Sophia for letting me call her at 4:30 in the morning, and then coming here to fix me some buckwheat to eat. That made me feel a lot better. We even watched "All My Children" together.
I just read this post written by Jack at Jack’s Shack about how a growing number of employees are being fired from their jobs because of statements or opinions made about their workplaces. It made me realize that I really haven’t been very smart since starting this blog. Not only do I include my real name up on top, but now my mother is writing comments using her real name. In the past couple of months, I’ve made fun of, andor insulted companies, babies, Mormons, bagel shops, and the city of New York.
In my last post, I even mocked the upcoming Indiana Jones film, which may hurt the feelings of Mr. Steven Spielberg himself — which is a real no-no here in Los Angeles. That’s a shame because, one day, I’d like to work with the talented Mr. Spielberg, one of my idols. I hope this doesn’t hurt my chances.
Mr. Spielberg, the joke was in good humor. I know Indiana Jones 4 will be a big success. It wasn’t like I was making fun of "1941," probably your worst movie. (Damn it! Can’t I just shut up?!)
In his post, Jack gives this good advice to his fellow bloggers who may be worried about the effects of their blogs.
It is possible to blog from other places and to speak about the office, but you have to be careful with the details and specific information in your posts. Nothing profound there, just common sense.
Smart. Be careful with the details. Be vague.
I would now like to officially re-write my last post:
At a big gala for a sci-fi crazed movie producer with a beard, our sources had a "close encounter" with another famous director/bearded guy, who said that the script for "Archaeologist Professor with the Hat 4" is almost done. A "witness" to the conversation said that the film’s leading man may have already chosen the woman who will be his love interest. So, who is it? Details won’t be released for another "six days and seven nights," but we know right now. So, what’s "the skinny?" Well, after a few years of raising her adopted Chinese baby, Dan-Sing, she’s decided it’s time to return to Hollywood. But don’t worry, mothers, she’s still very much in love with that "Dan-Sing baby."
At a gala event in honor of George Lucas, Steven Spielberg revealed that writer Jeff Nathanson is finishing up the script for Indiana Jones 4. Rumor has it that Harrison Ford’s real life girlfriend, Calista Flockhart, would play his love interest.
Is it only me, or is America in real trouble this time of losing that mysterious artifact to the Nazis? The sixty-two year old Ford is in great shape, but now he has to help shlep this scrawny woman up the mountainside? Karen Allen, where are you now?
(New Yorker cover, 3/29/76, by Saul Steinberg)
A friend came to visit from New York. I like talking to him because he has a lot to say about politics. As a progressive, my friend doesn’t much like America’s role in the world.
"America is like a spoiled wealthy brat, only caring about herself."
He thinks our culture is too corporate and the American people too self-absorbed, not caring at all about the cultures of other countries, particularly those in Africa and Asia.
Later in the evening, I asked him if he wanted to go to the Getty Museum on Saturday. He didn’t have much interest. As a tried-and-true New Yorker, he said the museums in New York are much better. In fact, he didn’t have much interest in doing anything in Los Angeles, including checking out some new neighborhoods. He had some family event to attend, and then he was heading back to New York City. He told me he tries to leave New York as little as possible.
"We have everything there. The best museums, the best restaurants, the best theater."
I was born in New York. New York is my favorite city. What makes it so great. The people? Maybe. Although I try to keep to the left of the political spectrum, I know the real answer is… money.
Money is the reason immigrants came to New York, and they still come. It was the robber barons of the 19th Century who built the famous museums. It was the Rockefellers who helped finance the building of the skyscrapers. It is Wall Street, the corporate center of the world, that makes Broadway, expense account restaurants, and the art world flourish. New York City may be the bluest of the blue state at heart, but a lot of people do pretty well to be able to afford those condo prices.
It’s not fair that America is so wealthy, with so much food in our supermarkets. I would like it if we would do more to share our wealth with poorer countries. I also think New York has too many famous museums. People are starving for culture in Bakersfield. Why not send something small, like the Frick Collection, over there.
As much as some New Yorkers like to think they are an island onto themselves, separate from the rest of America, I think that New York is the most American of American cities.
America: Business first
New York: Wall Street firstAmerica: The most wealthy people in the world
New York: The most wealthy people in the countryAmerica: Self-absorbed; only cares about America
New York: Self-absorbed; only cares about New YorkAmerica: Lack of interest in Asia and Africa
New York: Lack of interest anything in America beyond the George Washington Bridge
(from Rear Window)
On Saturday night, I was sitting home doing my laundry. I was alone. Wanting some sort of social interaction, I went online to play backgammon at the MSN Gaming Zone. Not only do you get to chat as you play, but you sometimes get to play against fellow backgammon enthusiasts from faraway places such as Brazil and Turkey. The world seems small when you’re playing against someone thousands of miles away (and who might not even speak your language).
If you don’t know backgammon, when you land on an opponent’s piece, you get to kick it off the board. The computer application makes a nifty CLICK sound when this occurs.
As my game continues, I hear another CLICK sound. What’s going on? I check my speakers. Nothing. I hear another CLICK in the background, the exact same type of CLICK as that coming from my computer, but occurring at a different time. I look towards the wall behind my couch.
It’s coming from my next door neighbor’s apartment.
My neighbor, some guy I sometimes say hello to in the elevator, was also playing backgammon at the MSN Gaming Zone. We’ve only had one conversation that lasted more than thirty seconds. It was about the pigeons that sometimes make a racket on our adjoining terraces. Even though we were both on MSN Gaming Zone at the same time, we were not playing against each other (his CLICKS were not my pieces getting knocked off), but we were both home alone, playing backgammon on our computers.
If I could hear him, he probably could hear me. Did either of us think about knocking on the others door and asking if the other wanted to play backgammon face-to-face? Or how about going out to a bar?
I thought about it. I’m sure he did, too. But it was easier to continue playing backgammon with the guy from Brazil.
Here’s another tale of the isolation of big city apartment living (from amandarin.net)
If the status symbol of having many children isn’t motivating your wife to have more sex with you, here’s another way to motivate her:
Politics
An article from website, The American Vision: "Equipping and Empowering Christians to Restore America’s Biblical Foundation titled Whoever Has the Most Babies Wins doesn’t beat around the bush (hey, that’s almost a triple pun): more babies equals more conservative Christians:
Homosexuals do not have children; heterosexuals do. Those who support abortion generally have fewer children than those who oppose abortion. Christians are having more children than non-Christians. If these trends continue, America will see a demographic shift in terms of who has the most children. Liberals are on the losing side of this battle. Birth control, abortion on demand, and the homosexual lifestyle have built-in, self-limiting mechanisms. As the Bible says, they will not make further progress for their folly will be obvious to all (2 Tim. 3:9)…
There is a great opportunity here for Christians. Have more babies, encourage your friends to have more babies, start schools to educate this growing generation of young people, and then listen to the cries of "We’re melting. . . We’re melting" from the diminishing leftist worldview.
Christian conservatives have thrown down the gauntlet.
Come on, liberals! Get off your bony asses and stop reading that New York Times! It’s time to have more sex!
(Is Eight not really enough?)
When I first moved to Los Angeles, my roommate was an unemployed actor. He drove an expensive BMW. When I asked him how he afforded it, he said that he leased it. It was very important to him that he looked wealthy and successful.
I thought about my former roommate while I was reading this recent article about the uber-wealthy of Manhattan in the New York Observer (5/16/05). According to the piece, written by Simon Doonan, it used to be easier for everyone to know you were wealthy, particularly if you were a woman. Everyone would see your status by the clothes you wear. For instance, you would wear your mink stole. Today, of course, a mink stole will only get you red paint thrown on your head by some crazed PETA supporter.
Certainly, there are other types of expensive designer clothes you can wear while you are strolling down Park Avenue. Then again, in today’s world with Loehmann’s and Barney’s Warehouse Sale, even women from Queens can dress like you! They might even find a knockoff purse that looks exactly like yours, but cost 1/20th the price. That’s just not fair. If you have the money, you want to show it off.
What about your terrific condo? Surely that will impress outsiders. Maybe. But how are people going to know about it? You can’t walk around with a photo of it hanging around your neck.
I already mentioned that any poor shnook can lease an expensive car, and cars are not such a big deal in New York anyway.
So, what’s a wealthy gal to do? How do you show up the other women at the charity functions?
According to the article, the answer is simple: more children.
While two children used to be the average for an upper-middle class, wealthier families are trying to distinguish themselves by having three or more children. Not only does this give your family a "Kennedy clan aura" but as Amy Ashley, editor of Teen Vogue writes, "The third child screams, "My apartment is massive, my S.U.V. is spacious, my cash unlimited!"
Of course, this only puts more demands on the overworked American woman and her need to "have it all." Now, they must be successful in their own career, marry well, have several children to impress their friends (while always bouncing back to a size 4), and never look over age 40.
Let the baby wars begin!
(photo via Meggiecat)
Here’s a great story about finding love:
Meet Paul Henry, a retired professor from Redding, California and Jen-Chi Anderson, a retired nutritionist from Carmel, California. Both were nearing their eighties. Both survived their spouses. Both wanted to find romance and share their experiences with someone else.
They wanted to look for love, but didn’t know the right places. At their ages, the local dating pools had all but dried up. They were too old to go clubbing but too young to hit the convalescent scene. So they followed the leads of millions of souls, and cast their nets worldwide, on the Web. And soon the sweet tones of a modem heralded the beginning of their octogenarian affair.
They met face-to-face three months later and were living together within a year
"When you get up near 80," Henry said, "you don’t mess around."
According to the Pew Internet and American Life project, 27% of all American seniors are online, and the numbers are growing quickly.
Note to senior men: Coming up with a good profile is not easy. Do not use that 1943 picture of yourself on the USS Washington for your current photo. Women always know.
Check out Paul Henry’s story at his website.
(story via Meggiecat, Paul Henry’s daughter)
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