Five Things-The Ping Edition: 4/14/14

1) Oh for fuck’s sake..they’re never gonna find that fucking plane.

It’s gone. Vapor. Too bad Malaysia lacked the balls to handle this whole mess correctly from the beginning. No wonder Al Qaida loves it there–y’all are clueless.

All of the possible runways long enough to support a Triple 7. (via NorthShoreJournal.org)

All of the possible runways long enough to support a Triple 7. (via NorthShoreJournal.org)

As much as I’d like to think the crew and passengers are safe, they’re not. It’s heartbreaking, and the families didn’t have to go through this shit storm.

 

2) One thing I’ve discovered is that if you get enough coffee in me, I can sing just like Carly Simon. True story.

 

3) Update to number 2: Add pot with the coffee, and I can sing just like Carol Channing.

 

4) One of the fun things about being a writer is if anyone fucks with you, you can write about it. Put it down on paper, in blog, book, or even on the bathroom wall. One doesn’t have to write it out verbatim which is nice. Plus, writing it out word-for-word could land you in court. I had this happen to me recently–being verbally berated for being me. I honestly don’t know where it came from, and I’ll admit it stung a bit.

Kinda like a kick to the tits when they’re sore–you know, like right before menses starts.

I told a few friends that being called fat and ugly wouldn’t have hurt so much.

However, almost as quickly as it entered my soul, it left and being the creative type that I am, I immediately wrote it all down for future use. It’s been put in the holster and will surface at the primo moment.

Until then, anything you want to say to me, g’head and mail it to my ass.

 

5) It’s PROBABLY not a good idea to fuck with an airline on Twitter about Al Qaida.

(via NY Daily News)

(via NY Daily News)

It gets better. Really.

(via Uproxx)

(via Uproxx)

 

When they made you dumb, they made you really dumb.

(via Uproxx)

(via Uproxx)

A Little of This, A Little of That…

Major rant coming on, then the news!

First, a word about blogging, blogs and their readers. While I love reading the blogs I subscribe to (they’re all so good in their own ways), I hate the arrogance that some folks on WP have with regards to allowing people to ‘like’ a post and subscribe to a blog. Some WP bloggers have disabled both options for reasons that I don’t quite understand, but I’m slowly beginning to see that it’s ego run amok. The author is forcing you to comment on a post you like instead of pressing the ‘like’ button–which to me–is classic passive-aggressive behavior. This is becoming more popular for some reason, and I’ve noticed that at least half of the blogs I subscribe to are starting to do this. It’s such a pain in the ass that I’m going to stop reading the blogs that I can’t participate with in the way I desire.

Why wouldn’t the author of a blog want readers to like a post they’ve worked tirelessly on? Why have the only option for subscribing to a blog via email? See, that shit drives me nuts. I don’t like clogging up my email with alerts from WP–even though I only do that for a select few. I like having all of my subscriptions in one place–in my WP Reader. Maybe this is done by some WordPressers because their worlds don’t exist much outside of WordPress and this is their way of controlling things. I don’t know. All I know is it’s so gauche, and I’m growing weary of it.

<<<END RANT>>>

It’s been some time since I’ve done a news round-up. Why? Well, the news has been a major doggie-downer as of late so the thought of writing about it was causing me to feel like I was going through heroin withdrawal. I’m not a huge fan of vomiting, writhing on the floor and soiling my knickers uncontrollably. If that’s your thing, then hey, knock yerself out.

But, I’m holding off on having those things happen to me until I’m at least 90 years old.

On to the news.

Have a piece of schadenfreude pie, Joe Francis.

Apparently, Mr. “Girls Gone Wild” and all-around douchebag, has his knickers in a bunch because someone stole his iPad that contained a sex tape that he made with his gal pal! Francis is quite steamed about it because the thief is currently shopping said sex tape around to the highest bidder. Waah waah waah!

Joe Francis and his co-star. (photo courtesy of LAist.com)

Joe Francis and his co-star. (photo courtesy of LAist.com)

Francis is the emotionally retarded chap who made underage titty flashing the new thing to aspire to for so many girls who consider “cracker” to be a term of endearment and who frequent spring break getaways like South Padre Island, Ft. Liquordale, and the like. Oh, and he’s been in trouble with the law–he doesn’t like to pay taxes, can’t comprehend the meaning of ‘consent’ and doesn’t quite seem to glean what ‘underage’ means exactly–just to name a few. Oh for fun, get on the google machine and type in ‘Steve Wynn vs. Joe Francis’ and you’ll read some of the best unintentional comic material ever.

 

Question: What comes with an $800 sex toy?

Also, I hate it when this happens. See folks, this is why I keep my sex toys in a locked box in my panic room.

Bravo to Spain for taking a stand on dog poop scofflaws. You know, in Chicago, I think we should have the option of smearing the dog feces on the owners OR smearing them on a Cubs/Sox/Hawks/Bears/Bulls jersey in front of the owner. It all depends on which team the owner supports, and the messier the poop, the better. That’ll never happen since our sleazoid of a mayor is too busy engaging in a circle jerk with no-bid city contractors and parking meters companies.

This made me smile. China Eastern Airlines is getting all of their flight attendants trained in the ancient Chinese secret art of Kung Fu, as a way to protect themselves against hijackers. Tis a noble effort and I had no idea CEA was a target for hijackers. I do hope they’ll channel the surprisingly un-Chinese looking Kwai Chang Caine whilst unloading a high-kick to a hijacker’s noggin.

(courtesy retroland.com)

(courtesy retroland.com)

However, I have a sinking feeling it’ll be more like this:

As for the ear worm, you’re welcome.

 

You KNOW you wanna go

And, the best part is when you gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now, you’ll be in the best place for it.

The South Korean city of Suwon has opened “the world’s first toilet theme park.” About an hour outside of Seoul, one can go to this Labyrinth of the Loo and learn all sorts of fecal fun facts, how the toilet came to be and feast their eyes upon a dazzling display of bedpans.

The park itself was built around the home of the former mayor, Sim Jae-duck and has had a flush of visitors since opening this past July. Affectionately known as “Mr. Toilet”, Sim founded the World Toilet Association and started a movement about how important it is to the world to have clean, safe sanitation. He even wrote a ripping good yarn named “Happy to Be With You, Toilet.”

Sim’s love affair with all things commode when he was born into shit-filled poverty. Perhaps that had something to do with it–being born into poverty in Korea during, well, any time come to think of it. Sim died of prostate cancer in 2009.

“He was a man whose life literally began in a toilet and ended at a commode-shaped house,” said Lee Yeun-sook, manager of planning at the Mr. Toilet Sim Jae-duck Foundation.

Now, there’s a job that would be a gas to have.

 

 

The Daily Oh No He DI’INT!

But he did.

Yes, the master of “hiking the Appalachian Trail” wink wink has done something men in his sitch rarely do — he’s marrying the woman with whom he had been schtupping whilst married to someone else.

(courtesy of wltx.com)

Y’all remember this ripping good yarn, yes?

Picture it … South Carolina, summer 2009 … a gray-haired, tight-assed WASP, secret Lothario goes missing. His aids claim he was hiking along the infamous Appalachian Trail when really he was outsourcing jobs to the Southern Hemisphere, so to speak. He was chasing la chocha.

Turns out Gov. Sanford wasn’t traipsing along the trail, dodging illegal stills and Darwin’s Waiting Room, he was playing esconde la salchicha with his Argentinean soul mate — Maria Belen Chapur — in the Southern Hemisphere. Ahem. He was south of the border —  berry interestink since not a lot of conservative dudes are into eating at the Y. Or so I’ve heard.

Oh hell, just watch this. My words can’t even begin to essplain it all.

Before you hit the comments section and start wailing about how he’s a horrible man, chill. This happens every day. Love is love and it knows no bounds. Live and let live, love and let love. Life’s short.

You get the idea.

Grand Dames in Tuk-Tuks

If you want to see a sweet movie, go see,

Even though I spent years working in the movie business, I am not a movie reviewer.

Surprised?

A lot of folks think you can’t have one without the other, which is horseshit. I love movies and worked on a lot of them. I watch a lot of movies but loving them and working on them doesn’t automatically make me a film critic — even though I now make my living as a journalist. I’ll leave that to the pros like AO Scott and Roger Ebert. Plus, reviewing movies just doesn’t do it for me. I’m too cerebral when it comes to movies. Why? I don’t know.

If you want to read simple, intelligent and straight-forward reviews, check out my friend’s blog. He doesn’t post that often, but when he does, it’s an entertaining read.

But sometimes, I break my own rules. I saw “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel” today with a friend and we both dug it. It’s charming, heartfelt and fun. The cast is stellar and the scenery is breathtaking.

Go see it.

Now I want one of these to tool around in.

Magnificent Obsessions

When I’m not focusing on my main obsession — finding a decent job — I’m out and about checking out the sights, sounds and smells of Los Angeles. I’ve wandered all over the place in the past two months, out among the living and breathing denizens of this city and have found some new and not-so-new-but-seem-new loves.

Am I obsessed with astrology and psychics? Nope. Especially not after a well-known website which houses psychics and their wares turned me down for a writing/editing job. I know, how odd of me to not be into this since California IS the place for such obsessions. The last thing I need is to have someone tell me what my future is based on a reading a synapse misfiring in their brain gave them. I have a hard enough time dealing with my own little reality to get bogged down in cosmic farces.

Rot.

The hunt for the perfect t-shirt. Actually, this obsession has been a life-long one. I’ve tried them all and my fave has to be a James Perse one I found at a deep-discount place in Chicago. It was similar to this one, but sans the writing on the sleeve.

Best. T-shirts. Ever.

My perfect-t-shirt-obsessed-sister-Liza tells me that the Gap has some decent ones that are long enough at a fraction of the cost. The good thing is, the Gaps out here are great and seem to carry different stuff than their stores in other cities. Also, since James Perse is located here, I’m sure they have some sort of  warehouse sale where those of us of limited means can venture to buy their threads on the cheap. We probably have to be escorted in under a cloak of darkness though as to not to embarrass ourselves. Chalk one up for Los Angeles.

Scarves. Always scarves. My new fave is this one from the over-priced and over-hyped Lululemon. But I love it anyway.

                          

If/when I get a gig, I’m treating myself. Odd? Perhaps. But, that makes more sense to me than getting some hookers and blow and going to town. Hey, that’s just me — I don’t mean to knock your habits.

Friends, this is a horchata con espresso AKA liquid crack.

Magnificent obsession.

I get this fab beverage at the best coffee house I’ve ever been to in my entire life: Cafe de Leche on York and Ave. 50 in Eagle Rock. Words can’t quite describe how fucking yummy and good this stuff is, so I won’t even try. I don’t want to embarrass mahself OR my favorite drink by getting all schmaltzy. Sadly, I view this obsession as a treat since it’s loaded with calories AND it’s kinda expensive. It’s getting to the point that after I guzzle one of these, I need a cigarette and a nap.

 Thank you, Darrin N. for introducing me to my new, fave crack house.

One of the advantages of not having broadcast tee vee is I listen to NPR all day long. When it gets to be too much, I resort to watching screeners or listening to my own music on my ‘puter. Or, I read — a lot. One of the nice things about radio out here is it’s a bit more progressive and interesting than what we have in Chicago. There’s more alternative music here than anywhere else. One of the NPR stations here, KCRW, plays a lot of this music. Some of it is a bit much, but the atonal crap comprises about 5% of their playlists. The rest is worth listening to again and again. My latest faves? Gotye, Heartless Bastards, Los Campesinos, Shelby Lynne, Kimbra, Jessie Baylin and more. Now, before the music snobs weigh in, I’m well aware that some of these artists have been around for a while. No shit. But, this is the first time I’ve had the chance to listen to any of them. These types of tunes aren’t played that often over the Windy City airwaves.

Anyhoo, enjoy.

Gotye.

Smells.

My ‘hood smells. The whole city smells. Some good smells and some bad smell, but mostly good. The ocean, orange blossoms, night blooming jasmine, gardenia and eucalyptus — they’re especially strong post-rain and help to smother the roasting taco meat and pee-pee stench (rarely are the two experienced at the same time) that permeate my street when the breeze is juuuuuust right.

Since for the moment I’m living in a desert and not in a swamp, my skin is suffering. Big time. I’m starting to resemble Bridget Bardot circa now and thrilled about it I’m not. Short of soaking in olive oil, nothing keeps my skin from puckering up due to the arid air here. Add super-sensitive skin to the mix and I’m in a conundrum. The stuff I get from the chain drugstores doesn’t work (and I’ve tried them all) and the good stuff costs some serious coin (thank dog for samples). Pure coconut oil is messy and a pain to prep so I’m still figuring this one out. But, I do have the sunscreen issue licked. A daily shea butter bath will be the way to go should I end up here.

Beautiful people –LA’s filled with ‘em due to the movie industry and a burgeoning fashion scene. They’re fun to look at for a minute or two, but as soon as most of them open their mouths, well… there goes my erection.