the truth via Henry Rollins

Listen to the stage manager and get on stage when they tell you to. No one has time for the rockstar bullsh*t. None of the techs backstage care if you’re David Bowie or the milkman. When you act like a jerk, they are completely unimpressed with the infantile display that you might think comes with your dubious status. They were there hours before you building the stage, and they will be there hours after you tearing it down. They should get your salary and you should get theirs.
– Henry Rollins

oh, britney

when i saw you sitting on the stoop outside your house in the glare of the cameras the other night, clutching your pocket dog, with your mascara streaming down your face, i knew things were hurtling from extremely bad to seriously crash&burn. and now, there you are again, in the white lights of the hospital, being tossed around like a football betwixt & between your parents and everyone else.

the return of *dick*

so he surfaced once more, behind the podium at the ’state of the onion’ (er, union) speech the other night. best part: when he smiled (which never happens!).

reminiscence about one of my high school teachers

when she smiled, it was like watching a lizard give birth . . .

has anyone else noticed this

DICK CHENEY seems to be MIA lately………….

temp jobs from HELL

i’ve done many a temp job in my time… and have had many temp jobs from hell. i’m going to share some reminiscences with y’all about this from time 2 time. one of my favorites is the time i was temping for an organization that sent out social workers to families in new york city.

i know i was there for more than a few days because i clearly remember typing up visit reports for the social workers, who apparently had high school educations and couldn’t spell or use grammar correctly. i copyedited and proofread all the reports because i couldn’t, i just couldn’t, type them the way they were written. it went against my entire grain to do that.

the computer password for the person who i was replacing for a few days was… jesus.

overheard on the m60 bus

one 7 year old boy telling another, on the way home from school (very dramatically):

i am a sushi addict.

the dannielynn machine

over the past few weeks i’ve seen a couple of disturbing items about young dannielynn that have me a bit concerned about this child’s future. a few weeks ago one of the gossip TV shows recounted in loving anal-retentive detail exactly what she got for christmas, where she celebrated the holiday and like that. last night i saw a piece on Entertainment Tonight about how she has an eye condition common to young babies and her concerned father is worried that it might be related to anna nicole smith’s drug use.

ahem, where does it end? the dannielynn machine seems to be stoking an insatiable media hunger that will result in this child growing up in front of us, which can’t be good for her health. i have my doubts about so-called “devoted dad” larry birkhead (and his publicist no doubt) allowing the media access to every holiday and birthday celebration, not to mention (apparently) every visit to the doctor.

are we going to be seeing:
dannielyn’s first solid meal?
dannielynn’s first day at school?
dannielynn’s first report card?
dannielynn’s first date?
dannielynn’s high school prom?
dannielynn’s first therapy session?
dannielynn’s first night away from home where no one knows where she is?

crock of love is back

well, it’s become apparent that whenever someone has a “reality” dating show on VH1, it’s only the preamble to a sequel and sometimes more than one sequel. CROCK OF LOVE being no exception. but honestly, bret michaels? where has this guy been hiding since the 80’s? and i don’t think anyone has exhibited worse taste in picking women contestants (even Flavor Flav’s dubious choices were better than these skanks). anyway, i digress. i have a list of has-been rockers that i’d love to see picking their life partners on reality shows, and this guy is surely not one of them.

btw if you’ve got some time to kill, visit the official bret michaels web page. it’s from hunger as my mother would say.

jon stewart – gosh, he’s dreamy :)

thank you St. Clare, o patron saint of television, for bringing back JON STEWART to us after this long and arid drought!

if it’s possible, the lack of writers has made him even more ascerbic and witty than before. maybe it’s the fact that he’s been absent from my home & hearth for lo these many weeks, but to my mind the droll factor has increased tremendously.

watch as he explains the writer’s strike in layman’s terms.