Friday, May 23, 2008

Eva Longoria: The Whys

I often don't understand why people come to the defense of Eva Longoria Parker. She is a waste of space, and she ruins one of the few enjoyments I get out of life: watching basketball.

Those of you who regularly read my blog have begun to ask the obvious: Why is it you hate Eva Longoria? She is a piece of ass.

To that I of course retort: Mom, she is not really "a piece of ass" if you stop to think about it.

But I will tell you, all of you, why we should all hate her:

1. She is a glorified posse (with an "o") member. She is everywhere she is "supposed" to be as Hollywood Royalty. I remember specifically throwing a fit when in David Beckham's first game in LA...they would keep panning up into the crowd to show his wife, and who was there kicking it with Posh or Pickle or Punk Ass or whatever her name is? You guessed it: Eva Longoria. Why the hell is she friends with Pimple Spice? Posse, man. Posse (Again, use that "o").

2. She married a French basketball player. retarded is that? You know what the French are good for? Me either. Point being, she only married the guy to get face time at NBA games. I swear, ABC execs arranged this wedding so they could show her ugly mug on ABC games of the week.

3. Why is she "popular?" She is on a show called "Desperate Housewives." Honestly, I have never seen this show, but I know it sucks. How could I make such a condemnation, without trying the product? Let's just say I have also never eaten a Cheesy Double Beef Burrito from Taco Bell, taken a dump, then eaten it again. Yes,
that's gross, but so is Desperate Housewives, or as I like to call it: Regurgitated Cheesy Double Beef Burrito Excrement.

4. Let me list some of her finer movie roles. She starred in such blockbusters as: Over Her Dead Body, Hustler's Instinct, and Carlita's Secret. Have you seen any of these movies? No one has...and if they have, they have probably gone the way of Oedipus. Having sex with your own mother and watching anything with Eva Longoria Parker may be the top two reasons to poke your own eyes out.

This is what gets me, she is not a real star. She isn't....but she has somehow thrust herself into the public spotlight, and we are all supposed to love her because she is hot. Don't get me wrong, I am all for pieces of ass, but this has gone too far. Eva Longoria Parker is emblematic of what is wrong with our society...and I won't stop ranting until she admits it.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

The Adventures of Bamboo Chickie Lacka

So my last blog was about pee. Now it's time for bathroom blog number 2 (thousand).

***Necessary Background***

About a year ago, I was seeing a Chinese acupuncturist pretty regularly. I've blogged about why...basically, I road my bike so much, my hand stopped working. But that is neither here nor there.

I would always take the last appointment of the day, and the acupuncturist was usually running late. I would show up about 6, and sometimes she wouldn't see me until about 7.

The acupuncturist had two daughters: a five-year-old daughter that she took to work with her every day, and a two-year-old she took to work every once-in-awhile...she would also bring her mom to watch the kids. To keep this fully in perspective for you, let me list the English language level of this blog's main characters:

Me: Superior

The Acupuncturist's Older Daughter: Not bad for a five-year-old

The Acupuncturist's Mom: No Speaky the English

The Acupuncturist: Similar to level of Chinese Restaurant Fa Ra Ra Ra singers from A Christmas Story

The Acupuncturist's Younger Daughter: Goo Goo...Ga Ga

***Background Over***

Week after week, it became more and more obvious that the older daughter had little-to-no male influence in her life. She was FASCINATED by me...and I am not that fascinating, especially not to a five-year-old. She deemed me "Bamboo Chickie Lacka" for some reason, and every time I showed up, she would draw me pictures, make me presents, and keep saying my "name" over and over and over again:

What are you doing Bamboo Chickie Lacka?
Play a Game with me, Bamboo Chickie Lacka.
You're Silly, Bamboo Chickie Lacka.

Seriously, this shit NEVER stopped.

But wouldn't you know it...One day, she got a little more...aggressive. She walked up to my chair, lifted her dress OVER her head and said, and I quote:

Let's play Prince and Princess, Bamboo Chickie Lacka.

I look over at the Grandma and say Um...this is kind of strange....don't you think?

Her response is short, but powerful. Ye-e-e-s.

I have hope at this point that Grandma will take control: Um....maybe she shouldn't be lifting her dress over her head...

Oddly, our communication didn't go as smoothly the second time...Ye-e-es she responds again.

OK...Grandma is clearly not going to be helpful. So I try to take a different route. I try to be direct with the little girl: Why don't you pick out a book to read.

She lowers her dress back over her privies and squeals, OK, Bamboo Chickie Lacka.

She races back and LEAPS onto my lap. Again, this is not my kid...nor my friend's I am feeling EXTREMELY awkward. I lift her up, put her back down on the ground, and ask her to read to me. Have YOU tried to be logical with a five-year-old before???

She responds to me request by crawling UNDER my chair and playing peek-a-boo near my legs. comfort level plummets even farther. I beg: OK...OK...PLEASE come out, and I'll read TO you.

OK, Bamboo Chickie Lacka.

She races out from under my chair and starts to get up on my lap again. I am turning pale white...and just imagining a law suit...I turn to the Grandma with sorrowful eyes. I am an ESL/Linguistic specialist. I can break through...she must understand this is an uncomfortable situation...she will understand me: Uhhh...I little help here???


Fuck her...Years of training for nothing. Even worse, during this brief interaction with the grandma, the grand daughter has gotten completely on my lap. I say as I lift her up and put her back on the floor. But..there is something odd now on my leg. Something I know wasn't there when I walked in the door. It's roundish. It's black. And it's warm.

Um...did you go poop on my leg?

Giggle, Giggle: No, Bamboo Chickie Lacka..she did, pointing to her two-year-old sister who has been NOWHERE NEAR ME.

I again look at the grandma...who I no longer believe is just linguistically challenged, but maybe just an idiot. I look at my leg, back at grandma, back at my leg again, and then back at grandma.

I think your grand daughter pooped on my leg.


I race to the bathroom as the acupuncturist comes out to finally see me. I briefly relay the order of events...and she concludes I think daughter have some crush at you.

No lady, your daughter just took a whopping dump on my leg. Somewhat emblematic of most of my previous relationships....but this is the first time I actually had a woman LITERALLY shit all over me.

I wipe the poop off my leg, get poked for an hour, and shell out $75. I go out that night and tell this story to a few people who I thought would sympathize...but no, they just laughed at me.

No love for Bamboo Chickie Lacka. Plenty of crap, though.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

How Larry Craig Has Changed My Life

Do you remember this guy?

Almost a year ago now, he was accused of trying to commit a lewd act in a men's room. He was at a urinal peeing, and slid his foot under a stall, tapping another man's foot, signaling that he wanted to "bone," I believe CNN reported. Unfortunately, the man's foot he tapped was an undercover officer's.

Anyway, after much political mumbo-jumbo, he later denied being gay, lewd, or anything of the like, and he also could no longer recall what happened in that bathroom. In fact, Senator Craig stated:

"...he has a wide stance when going to the bathroom" and that was why his foot may have touched the officer's.

Yeah. Silly, right?

Seriously, this incident has really cramped my style. You see, I really do have a wide stance when at a urinal...and because of Larry Craig, I am currently extremely self-conscious on how I go. My usual pattern now is that I stand with my normal stance...feet farther than shoulder-width apart until/if another man enters the public restroom. At that point, if the urinator takes the stall next to me, I heel-toe my feet MUCH closer together, in almost Footloose-esque precision.

I am going to be honest. The amount of times I have accidentally peed on myself the past year has increased dramatically. Do you have any idea how hard it is for a man to incorporate a new pee stance? I have even sometimes succumbed to the dreaded one-hand-on-the-wall lean to alleviate unwanted drippage.

So thanks, Larry Craig. Because of your antics, I now consistently walk around with soggy jockeys and/or asparagus-smelling shoes.

You may not be gay or lewd...but you sure are an asshole.