Monthly Archives: February 2009

Michael Jackson’s nose is gone – No one surprised

Considering the News…

Michael Jackson is a man of confidence. A selfless guy. One who captivates a room of any size, no matter how many stars grace the floor. He teaches us that vanity is by no means a virtue, and for that we are all better people.

Thus, we praise not only his music catalog but look to him for guidance in navigating this cruelest of worlds. That a man of unmatched talent and unrivaled stardom should turn to plastic surgery seemingly every other week can only mean one thing – he is showing us the path to spiritual liberation.

The entire Jackson family is comprised of upstanding citizens and role models, strong-willed folks who put humanity and goodness before selfish wants and desires.

But only Michael could make such a prolific sacrifice – his cherished nose. Sad reports are surfacing and the outlook is grim. It appears Michael’s frequent trips under the knife have finally got the best of him, and a ruthless skin disease threatens the lovely little nose we have come to accept as a vision of perfection.

Because of Michael I will seek a more perfect face. Because of him I will have no rhinoplasty no matter how large and ominous my nose might often seem. Because of him I have seen the light, and there is a fine nose beneath it.

It is the nose given to me at birth. The nose god meant for me to have. And for that I shall never face the dire day when I have no nose at all.

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The Sanctity of Marriage – Plus, why gay marriage and polygamy have a chance

Considering the News…

There’s a lovely story out of Indiana receiving tremendous news coverage, of a 68-year-old woman who’s had the honorable privilege of marrying 23 times, with the marriages lasting as long as seven years and as little as 36 hours.

Born Linda Lou Taylor, this bride of brides is a living ode to the beauty of marriage, embracing all its ups and downs, in sickness and in health, a life’s work devoted to advancing the significance of this most sacred institution.

In these dark moral times of homosexuals fighting for marriage rights and polygamists pressing for the right to wed multiple partners, Linda Lou Taylor’s courageous story underscores the vital importance of preserving marriage as a union between only man and woman.

Why, would homosexuals be capable of marrying 23 different times? Not a chance. They don’t have the stomach for it.

And what about polygamists – could any of them achieve 23 partners at one time? Of course not, what an absolutely silly thought.

We must all applaud Linda Lou Taylor’s strong will and unrelenting dedication to this earnest and really, really serious cause. Thanks to her our children and our children’s children will one day be able to marry and divorce and marry and divorce and marry and divorce and marry again as many times as they deem necessary – supposing, of course, they are heterosexual God-fearing Christians who love and respect their partners, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, at least one in 23 tries.

Here’s to you Linda Lou Taylor – you’re one lousy tramp! But at least you’re not gay or Mormon. Now THAT would be a moral travesty.

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British, French nuclear subs collide – Plus, why Iran and North Korea might as well have a few nukes

Considering the News…

France and Britain are rather crimson and clover in the face today, as nuclear-armed submarines from the two national powers played a viscous game of underwater chicken, with neither side ever deciding to bail out.

Too much pride on the line, I suppose. And that’s a good thing, even if a couple dozen warheads colliding is not.

Some physical harm was endured, yes – mostly non-lethal bumps, bruises, and scratches – yet the major damage comes in the volatile form of concerned members of the press and members of a growing citizens group known simply by the succinct moniker Not too crazy about getting accidentally blown up because trained officers cannot clearly distinguish a nuclear-armed submarine from a dead whale.

(Indeed, any given day will find me willing to take a chance with 100 warheads before crossing the aforementioned citizens group. No hesitation whatsoever.)

It is true that history has bared witness to myriad mishaps by the French and British armed forces, however, this most clumsy incident illustrates just how integrally connected we all are as citizens of the same world, and that these blunders risk ravaging more than mere national pride.

While the self-proclaimed good guys forecast imminent global doom should Iran or North Korea ever obtain nuclear weapons, perhaps the more pressing concern is our allies throwing 50 warheads in the trunk and driving around with a head full of whiskey, wine and downers.

And yet who can condemn the British or the French? This obviously is no fault of theirs.

That two nuclear-armed submarines managed to collide in the Atlantic Ocean, as ridiculous as it all is considering the infinite space and avenues, is a bloody amazing feat for which only god can take credit.

The math alone requires us to forgive the two mortal nations without questions, punishment, or ridicule, as this was not of their doing. It would be like two 8-foot-tall redheads with 160 IQs and only 8 toes running into each other on a bike trail in Wichita, Kansas. Just doesn’t happen without good reason.

What won’t be forgiven is our grave suspicions of the ocean, for the world survived another day, but at what cost. I for one will never step foot in the Atlantic again, lest I wish for my right foot to fall off and grow tentacles and a set of teeth in its place. No, that doesn’t sound too swell at all.


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The Colonel’s fried chicken secret is safe – Plus, why nobody cares

Considering the News…

Fried chicken enthusiasts can rest easy today, thanks to comforting reports the beloved KFC recipe has at last been safely transported and secured in a secret vault somewhere in the enchanted hills of Kentucky.

Learning the exact contents of this hand-written document – penned by the mystical Colonel himself – has sent fried chicken impersonators through the depths of hell, as countless combinations have failed in the honorable quest of authentically replicating the mythical 11-herb mixture.

Few things have incited greater culinary madness through the ages, with some comparing the importance of the scintillating chicken recipe to that of Jesus’ bread, Emeril’s Caribbean-style chicken, and Bo Jackson’s signature BO Burger.

Naturally, every precaution was taken in transporting the historical document – with many security guards and a handcuff briefcase involved in the covert mission – before it was finally laid to rest in a high-tech vault that will be guarded around the clock by living personnel. And thank God for that.

At any given time, but only two living KFC executives harness the dear privilege of knowing the full recipe, which no doubt qualifies them both for the ‘Luckiest Damn Person Alive Competition’ held annually in Waukee, Iowa.

Merely disclosing a single element of the recipe means instant death by way of the guillotine, a long-standing Kentucky law that has surely survived many Supreme Court challenges, as it is no secret Rehnquist loved nothing more than a late-night bucket of crispy and succulent fried chicken.

Yes, this 68-year-old legend of a recipe is poised to remain a well-kept treasure for at least another 10 years, when slumping sales inspire KFC executives to move the document yet again, to any even bigger vault, with even more human security guards – reminding Americans the Colonel’s chicken is still accessible at your local KFC chain store.Today. And right now.

I myself haven’t eaten the filth in years. Maintaing a good cholesterol level just doesn’t allow for it, I’m afraid. Plus, the grocery store fried chicken tastes just as good, if not much better.

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Obama to limit executive bonuses – Plus, why high-class prostitution will suffer

Considering the News…

As the financial crisis paralyzes every industry not specializing in online pornography, ill-timed is President Obama’s audacious plan to limit executive bonuses for companies receiving “exceptional assistance” under the bailout program.

A closer glimpse into this seedy plan only further illustrates how downright silly his shameless middle-class pandering has become.

No secret is it the extravagant taste of these very executives is solely responsible for keeping the luxury industries afloat – so what could possibly compel Obama to risk undermining this sector of the market at such a time?

Why, who will buy the $100 lobster dinners should this plan come to fruition? Or the private jets! How can that industry realistically survive if General Motors has merely one jet instead of five?

Caviar, yachts, private golf clubs, exotic beauty products, Oliver Goldsmith sunglasses, Stefano Bemer shoes – I ask you, Mr. President, where will the customers come from if under-performing executives of collapsing corporations fail to receive outrageous and undeserved compensation?

And this is to say nothing of the high-class prostitution business! Where will the next great generation of lawyers and doctors come from if aspiring professionals cannot fund graduate school because the underground service industry went belly up?

Obama and the Dream Team Circus claim to boast a myriad of fantastic tricks to bewilder the eye and wow the crowd – but this particular performance, I am afraid to say, is incredibly underwhelming, unrewarding, and greatly lacking both theme and direction.

Back to the dressing room, Good sir, the audience is getting rather anxious.

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Michael Phelps enjoys a nice toke – Plus, why Olympic champions who get photographed smoking pot make good role models

Considering the News…

Supernatural athletic ability may launch one to the pinnacle of the sports world, however, it evidently can help one mature with no more haste than the virgin junior-varsity bench warmers of the world.

That a 23-year-old male engaged in a fuzzy little bong session at a frat party will alarm few. In fact, a 23-year-old male enjoying an occasional toke seems right in line with American tradition, post 1955.

Law students, nurses, veterinarians, trash collectors, political aides – choice of profession has no chemical effect on the innate connection between 20-somethings and the ganja. The synergy between the two is quite remarkable.

And yet once 14 or 15 Olympic gold medals enter the fog, stunned faces steal the majority like somebody just crapped on the president’s shoe. Bemused people all wondering how God’s holy world could ever allow for a sports icon to become the front runner for High Times Man of the Year.

Michael Phelps is without question a legend in the athletic sense, but his frequently impaired and hypocritical judgment reminds us he is no more a role model than a blazed, barely conscious, wannabe Rastafarian in Central Park.

His destiny has become quite predictable: Win a Volkswagen van full of gold medals and make an ass of himself for an encore.

Thus, American media is premature in proclaiming him a role model, for what parent wants his life for their children?

Who says, ‘I want my son to win 6 gold medals, follow it up with a DUI, mend his image by joining a World Anti-Doping Agency program, win another 8 gold medals, get a million dollars from Speedo, have everyone calling, then give my wife a bloody heart attack by getting photographed pulling bong tubes and feeling up a stripper – all in a few-year span.”

No one. That’s too damn much for even the sturdiest minds.

Thus, Michael Phelps may be a role model after all, and as important a role model as there ever was. I suspect now I will one day have the ‘Michael Phelps’ talk with my children, emphasizing that while gold medals and endorsements can do a great deal for one’s public image and self esteem, voyeuristic photographers will stop at nothing to leave their wonder world in a ruins of g-strings and bong water.

“So what will it be, son?” I shall ask. “Do you wish for a private life where you are free to smoke marijuana and grope strippers in your spare time, or do you want to be an Olympic champion getting paid millions to pose in a Speedo, never able to freely smoke some marijuana, or perhaps grope a stripper or two, without the whole world going ape shit?”

His initial response will reflect what kind of person he intends to be. My only wish is he passes on the Speedo.

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