America Continues Embarrassing Downward Spiral

Days till Menopause: 11

They say that bad things come in threes, but 2008 has brought in a complete barrel full of insanity. Never before has a year started off with so much utter stupidity and horror.

First of all, the heat in my apartment building is busted. You heard me right - busted. When I walked into my apartment last night, I wondered why it was almost as cold as it was outside. And let me tell you, it was fucking freezing outside; we're in the middle of a horrific cold stretch, so of course it's now that the heat decides to shit the bed.

I was elated for all of .002 seconds when I awoke at 3am for some water, because I heard my radiator kick back into gear. Then I actually got out of bed, and promptly froze, because the AC had been turned on, rather than the heat. So now I think I have pneumonia, which is awesome.

Okay, off to bed!

Second of all, Britney Spears has apparently gone completely insane (more insane, I should say), and after essentially holding her children "hostage" in her home (while an endless parade of police cars, ambulances, firetrucks, helicopters, and paps looking to get some ass circled her house and recorded it all for the world to see) was carried out on a stretcher and taken to the hospital. Man, I hope when the time comes for my psychotic breakdown that I'm not famous (yet) and I can do it without it being splashed across the tabloids and blogs.

Of course by this point, it's not like it's a surprise when she goes completely off the deep end (again.) This is a woman who's shaved her head in public, who's attacked paparazzi vehicles with an umbrella, who continuously forgets to wear underwear with skirts, who continuously forgets to wear underwear and pants with "dresses" (aka regular t-shirts, as it's all the same to her), who can't actually read, add, or speak English, who is so drugged up she has to undergo court ordered drug testing, and who is so legitimately mentally ill that all of this is actually kind of sad. Well, sort of. It's also really good entertainment. Let's have a moment to reflect, shall we?

Losing your children AND your mind? Hilarious! I bet Jamie Lynn is super pissed that she's no longer in the spotlight!

Uh. Moving on!

Third of all, Huckabee beat out the other Republican hopefuls last night in Iowa, proving that not only are Republicans fucking insane, but the world as we know it is beginning to collapse in on itself. Huckabee is a guy that doesn't believe in evolution. That's right, kids, he doesn't think humans naturally evolved over long periods of time, he believes that God created the world in 7 days, and we were wandering around in Eden as perfect specimens and have never once changed.

Which is odd, because we've never found any human remains from that long ago, and we had these things called "the dinosaurs" and we've already seen, in evolutionary terms, from evidence like bones and fossils, how humans have been steadily evolving from apes, to cro-magnums, to Republicans, to actual humans.

See, this is where we get into trouble. The Bible is not an actual recording of events - it's a series of allegories, moral lessons, and man-made tales created during a time where those sorts of lessons were encouraged. When the Bible was written, it obviously was not present day, and there were different rules, different ideals, and a completely different way of life. Nothing but the bare bones of the Bible are relevant today (don't steal, don't cheat, don't kill, etc.) Reading it like non-fiction isn't only insane, it's dangerous.

The Bible, as fiction, is fabulous; it's full of danger, death, wrathful gods (yeah Old Testament God!), scheming neighbors, love triangles, moral lessons, and all sorts of nonsense. When taken as non-fiction, it preaches hatred, intolerance, bigotry, and stupidity. It was indeed written by men, and it was relevant only for the time period in which it was created. NO ONE LEADING A FIRST WORLD COUNTRY SHOULD ACTUALLY TAKE IT AS FACT.

And for the first time ever, Chuck Norris fails America

What I think we should do is just go ahead and elect a 5 year-old boy, because then it's completely acceptable - and dare I say adorable - when he comes up with complete BS like this. If little Timmy declares "God made us all in 7 days cause God is awesome! We came down in bubbles like Glenda from The Wizard of Oz!" it's cute, because the kid is 5 and can't tie his own shoes, never mind understand the concept of evolution. When an educated man over the age of 40 says the same thing, well, then it just gets scary.

And besides, if we have a 5 year-old, then we can just keep the same agenda and workings of the Bush administration, because at least at this point, we'd be a step ahead of the game, and our foreign relations would be better because everyone would be going "awww he's so cute, it doesn't matter if he's stupid!" as opposed to "good fucking lord, this man went to Yale?!"

For now, we can only hope and pray that things are different in New Hampshire. I mean, first of all, it's not the midwest, so immediately we're ahead of the game. New Hampshire folk are like the little siblings of us Massachusetts folk - cynical, bitter, and sharply intelligent. And they're actually aware that we didn't just spring up from nothingness one day. Seriously, people.

So, Hillary '08. I think she can clean up our foreign policies, help bring an end to the war, pay off our debts and get us another surplus, encourage human rights, allow stem-cell research, prove that gay marriage isn't the work of the devil, separate church and state, and even offer Britney a shoulder to cry on. If that isn't the workings of an amazing leader, then I just don't know what is.

Go (Mid)west, Young (Wo)man!

Days till Halloween: Who cares, I'm back!*

Once again I have proven I am an indestructible force of pure strength and character; I have battled the dangerous, scathing skies, I have overcome the masses of rabid, hate-mongering Midwesterners, and I have triumphed over the consumption of approximately 400,000 calories (per day). And I survived the smell of cow manure in rural Omaha - and let me tell you, that in-and-of itself should warrant at least a purple heart.

Just give me one reason, and I'll turn you into my manure

I got to experience the smell first hand, when a fabulous coworker and I got lost in rural Omaha - which was unexpected, as we were in a business/industrial park area, and we missed our street, and then suddenly Bam! dirt roads and the crossroads from Supernatural and everything. Totally got the whole Midwest experience right in that one moment. Actually, the smell continued over to the center we were visiting, but I wasn't sure if that was really all that strange or not, since I'm so used to the smell of smog and pollution and all the other yummy things that come along with living in the city (or close to the city, per my childhood.) That might actually have been fresh air, as it's common knowledge that anyone that lives in the city too long actually ends up being poisoned by fresh air if they return to rural areas.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I left on Tuesday, feeling particularly brilliant that I got to the airport right at 9:20am for my 10:40 flight, only to realize that my flight was at 11:40am, and I totally could've slept in for another hour, but now I got to spend that hour sitting at the airport sipping coffee and trying to pry my eyeballs open. Super!

I flew Midwest Air, which I'd only even recently found out existed, and was shocked and horrified by the depravity of the crew and the flight experience itself. I should start off by explaining that the pilot was a dog - maybe that will explain some things:

Oddly, this was the third result on Google Images

The plane was a vehicle of death; it had to have been 500 years old (at least), as was evidenced by it's giant leather seats, the ample leg room, and the warm, safe feeling that the death trap provided us. Yeah, like I want to be hurtling through the sky on an airline without any history of crashes or accidents! Give me TWA any day, my friends.

Worst of all, the airline tried to poison me by cramming delicious chicken fajitas down my unwilling throat, and then - worst of all - they gave us warm, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. What the fuck. I just want to be left alone when I fly, I don't want some perfectly nice flight attendant trying to force me to eat delicious, warm, gooey pieces of chocolate-ly chip heaven. No thanks! I'd much rather starve.

The recipe for DEATH

When we finally landed and I could fling myself down on solid ground and curse Midwest Airlines for giving me the most enjoyable flight of my life, I realized to my horror that I was indeed in the Midwest. And the people - the people! They were all like "oh hey, we're the first genuinely nice people you've ever met, can we help you with anything?" and I was all like "what the fuck no, leave me alone, I don't want any of your help," but then they were like "let me help you with your luggage, and let me get the door for you, and let me be super welcoming and introduce you to everyone," and I was like "oh my god, you people are monsters, just let me be!" Seriously, it was a nightmare.

I did the rounds for work, and met the whole team (and a good chunk of other employees) and I have to admit that they were fabulously nice people, and I really had a good time. Everyone was really helpful, very nice, very funny, and more than happy to put up with my naturally retarded nature. Of course when I left, everyone probably thought I was a total moron, but I'll imagine it as the nice, safe, enjoyable little bubble that it was. I was very relieved to see that everyone was as friendly as they seemed via email, as I wasn't entirely sure what to expect; probably some combination of Office Space and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. You know, what anyone would expect of an office in the Midwest.

Omaha itself was... well, Omaha. The downtown and Old Market area was actually bordering on adorable, with its brick streets, cute boutiques, loft apartments and plethora of bars and restaurants (yeah booze!), although the rest of the city was too small for my tastes. After spending the majority of my life traveling between Boston, New York and DC, I start to freak out and get super paranoid if I can't hear horns beeping, people swearing, and drunks hollering at all times of the day.

Old Market/Downtown Omaha... damn you for making me like you

On Tuesday night we went out to Anthony's Steakhouse for authentic Nebraskan steaks. Now let me tell you, I don't know what it is that they sell on the East Coast, but it sure as hell isn't actual cow parts; maybe it's some bastardized combination of knuckles and heads and whatever the hell else is in horrific combination "meats" like hotdogs. The steaks out there are completely different from anything else out here (well, unless it's expensive Nebraskan steaks we order in or order at restaurants, but they're not quite as fresh, considering I think the cows were slaughtered out back as soon as we put our orders in) and were shockingly good. Even my lingering sore throat and flu couldn't stop me from enjoying them. Not that I usually have problems overcoming ailments for the sake of food, but this was saying something, considering how much like ass I felt.

Yes, that is a giant cow on top of the restaurant

I think I put on about 10 pounds just from the past two days alone. There was the meals on the plane, the plethora of warm, gooey, delicious chocolate chip cookies, the steaks, the catered lunches, the additional cookies, the giant fudge cake for my boss' birthday, and everything else I managed to cram down my throat. Oh yeah, and the additional additional cookies that the hotel gave us. What is with the Midwest and delicious cookies, and why don't we have more of them out here on the East coast?

I managed to drag my significantly larger bulk onto the plane on Wednesday, and happily didn't have a complete mental breakdown on the flight, per my usual happening. I still hate takeoff with a deep, fiery passion, but the flights themselves were surprisingly nice. Fucking Midwesterners and their stupid approach to a happy, safe life. I'm not bitter, I swear.

The plane - of course! - got in something like 40 minutes early, so of course I had all this extra time, which meant I could go back to my apartment, change leisurely, take my time and unpack, all before heading over to Erin's to watch Supernatural. Damn you, Midwest Air.

The day ended nicely with an abundance of the Supernatural boys, and a discussion of our plans for today. If you weren't aware (and were a big FREAK OF NATURE), today is the day that 30 Days of Night premieres in theaters. Yeah vampires in Alaska! I've been pumped to see this movie for months now, since I first saw something about it in one of the many weird sites I visit online. We're going to truck out either to Chinatown or Alexandria to see it, depending on whether or not the Reds come with us and feel like carting our asses out to Virginia in the car. I am so super pumped to indulge myself in my Halloween horror movie geekiness.

30 straight days of night? We should've thought of this years ago!

Of course I've started with the horror movie atmosphere already, as I'm listening to the radio at work, and Britney' Gimme More is playing. I keep having horrific, PST-esque flashbacks to her badformance (har har, get it?) at the VMAs in which she jiggled her beer belly at us, tottered around in an outfit 400x too small for her, and generally showed school age children everywhere why drugs really are a bad thing.

*Of course I care, that'd be madness otherwise. Days till Halloween: 12

Britney's Vagina

I just thought I'd pass this on: it's Britney's va jay jay, because somehow, in between putting on her shirt-masquerading-as-a-dress and those heinous boots, she "accidentally" forgot to put underwear on. And yes, I made those kick ass smiley faces. I have a duty to protect my readers.

I don't know about you, but when I'm in the middle of an ugly custody battle for my two kids, in which I make my waste-of-life of an ex husband look like a freaking saint, and in which everyone is trying to prove how insane and unstable I am, I like to go outside without underwear and flash my cooter around for the paparazzi to get good shots of. Aaaaand I like to do this about once a week, just to keep things fresh (well... some things fresh...)

Seriously, you couldn't pay me to get in that car. It's probably covered in crabs and herpes and some foreign disease that she picked up on one of her many trips to outer space. Someone needs to scoop her up (with gloves on, people, safety first) and cart her crazy ass (among other body parts) to the loony bin. Your numbers up, Brit Brit! I may have idolized you when I was a young girl and you were dancing around in red latex on Mars, but those days - outside of your head - are over.

Britney, MTV Crash and Burn

How to Ruin an Awards Show in a Spectacularly Embarrassing Fashion:

1. Let Britney Spears open your show. Sure, she's an alcoholic and drug abuser, probably has some massive mental issues going on, is under investigation for child abuse, and goes out in public without her pants, but clearly she's the person that should be opening MTV's biggest show of the year! Seriously, what the fuck was that? She lip synced, walked around like she had no idea where she was, kept stumbling, forgot she was supposed to be lip syncing and just stood there like an idiot, and tried to squeeze herself into a bikini... thing that was far too small and far too revealing.

2. Tell Sarah Silverman she's actually funny, and encourage her to follow Britney with painfully embarrassing stand up (despite it being a music awards show), and to go on the attack. Britney's probably already hung herself backstage - course she did it with an overly long rope and is standing on the ground looking confused, but that's beside the point.

3. Turn the teleprompters off/Put the prompts in Swedish/Book a bunch of fucking morons to announce the categories and winners. Why couldn't anyone read the prompts? And furthermore, why was everyone stuttering and making awkward jokes and looking like they had no idea why there were on stage, and even getting the winners' names wrong? (Gym Class Fall Out, anyone?) It's not like these people were kidnapped and released blindly - they knew where they were, and knew what they were supposed to be doing. Well, besides Britney.

4. Film the show from 50 venues and mash it all together. That way, people will be so busy wondering where the hell the singers are, and what the hell is going on, that they won't realize that people can't sing and are struggling (I'm onto you, Fall Out Boy, I heard your screechy singing of Thnx 4 da Mem'ries, or whatever the hell it is you call that poor, butchered song.)

5. Have the artists sing uncensored versions, so that all the rich and famous and talented individuals in the audience get to enjoy the songs, while all the suckers at home have to listen to those awful censor beeps that totally ruin the appeal of the songs to the people that are supposed to actually be wanting to tune in and give MTV their ratings.

6. Get everyone drunk beforehand. Seriously, Erin and I have reached a final agreement, and that agreement is that everyone* is completely shifacted: singers, producers, staff, sound and audio crews, executives, everyone is totally wasted, and that's why this is such a massive piece of crap.

*Everyone except Rhianna and Shia LeBouf, that is. Rhianna is the only one sober and talented enough to keep performing and winning, which is why they keep bringing her up, and Shia is the only presenter to have turned a totally awkward situation into a funny one. Ludacris, I'm talking to you - WHY, if you AGREED to pick up an award for Fergie, would you refuse and wave from the audience, and leave poor Shia hanging? Luckily Shia made off with that statue, and you know he's sure as hell not gonna give it back. Why? Bitch is smart. Way smarter than MTV.