Tag Archives: Stupid Stuff

Please STEP ASIDE (It Could LITERALLY Save Your Life)

Please STEP ASIDE (It Could LITERALLY Save Your Life)

airplane-the-movie-that-launched-1000-spoofs-is-35-years-old-take-a-look-back-at-just-h-486780One result of the many changes in my life this past year is that I now commute between states on a fairly regular basis (every 2 weeks or so) and have to fly to do it. I know you’d think someone of my stature and fame would be doing that via private jet, but it appears that Alaska Airlines did not message that out to the numerous degenerates who muck up my airplane and hijack the valuable time of my pilot and staff with their ridiculous demands.

I think we can all agree that flying, especially when forced to mix with the likes inhabiting steerage, is not the most pleasant experience one could come up with. Surveys show it is often a close second behind prison rape. I imagine that is probably a little less pleasant.

Now that I am living this peripatetic lifestyle (and yes, I Googled the shit out of that word) I have been witness to every flavor of traveler that exists.

As such, in order to keep myself out of jail for any number of assault charges, I always have a little one-on-one with myself before starting this process by deciding I will simply have a smile on my face throughout the travel day, no matter what. The result is that I look slightly dazed and more-than-slightly unhinged (both of which are actually true under any circumstance). But, the response is usually either one of a returned smile and pleasantry or fear and avoidance, either of which I gladly take on a travel day.

After all, my mom used to always say that you catch more flies with honey.

As an aside, I’ve always thought that was a disturbing saying. Flies are filthy insects who gather on piles of fecal matter because that is like their version of an all-you-can-eat buffet. Then after they’ve had their disgusting bacchanalia, having covered themselves in all matter of disease, decide it would be a riot to buzz around your head before landing squarely on your food to wipe off their gunked up feet. So, really, if we are to be accurate, you can actually catch more flies with shit than honey.

This is a statistical fact

You can keep your god-damned flies!

At any rate, one of the occasional bright spots in all of this is when I do my online check-in and that beautiful, blue and green harbinger of hope shines brightly in the top left corner of my boarding pass:

This seemingly small but life-changing symbol is literally my favorite thing on earth – sorry kids, but Mommy needs this!

I know, I know. If I just took a month off to navigate the catacombs of the Homeland Security process to get this done permanently, life could always be sunny. Have you not been listening? I’M A VERY BUSY PERSON!! “Making a Murderer” isn’t going to binge watch itself, people!

The biggest reason pre-check means the world to me is not because I don’t like taking my shoes off in public or shoving my endless liquid beauty products into Lilliputian sized containers. It’s because the level of idiocy that presents itself around that security conveyor belt turns me into a raving lunatic.

So I ask you all this.

Nay, I beg of you!

Can we, as a people, as a civilized race, PLEASE agree to move aside from the conveyor belt to re-dress and put our shit away?

Just gather up all your stuff and STEP ASIDE. They even provide perfectly nice benches and tables, sometimes only 10 feet away, for you to manage your shoes, belts, liquids and computers, out of harms way. Because, you are clearly unaware that I am looming right behind you, ready to stab you in the back of the knee, if you do not STEP THE FUCK ASIDE.

Listen, I’m already letting you on my private jet and allowing my staff to be at your disposal. The very least you all can do is STEP ASIDE.

Seriously.

STEP. THE. FUCK. ASIDE.

Thank you for your attention and enjoy your flight.

2013: An Awkward Death

2013: An Awkward Death

I am, admittedly, slow on the uptake for writing about 2013. After all, 2013 was so last month!

I’m going to blame it on my blinding anticipation of the new season of Downton Abbey. Damned Brits.

So, what can I say about 2013? It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was a year of weirdness, it was a year of boredom, it was a time of unsightly rashes and a time of emotional outbursts.

Does it seem to anyone other than me that 2013 has had the longest death scene ever? Haven’t we been trying to wrap this year up since about June?

The long, awkward death rattle of 2013

turkish2

So, here are a few of the oddities, in a vast sea of weirdness, from the year that made me tilt my head and say “Whaaaa???”

Zygote Infamy

Imagine having a lifetime supply of fame before you even develop limbs. Then imagine eventually being born to some of these parents.

  • We have yet more Kardashian blood on our hands now with the arrival of North West, who will most likely be bi-polar before hitting kindergarten.
  • His Royal Highness Prince George Alexander Louis of Cambridge selfishly took all the focus off of the final season of Breaking Bad by being born.
  • This created…something:

Wiz Khalifa, Amber Rose

  • But, to balance that, so did this:

Kristen Bell, Dax Shepard

  • Brad and Angelina did NOT have (or go get) any more children this year.

Dennis Rodman’s Love Affair

Celebrity couples are just like us!

Dennis Rodman, Kim Jung Il

They show their love in public.

They laugh together!

They laugh together!

They have serious discussions about stuff!

They have serious discussions about stuff!

They clap!!

They clap!!

Same Sex Marriage

A tip o’ the hat to California, Connecticut, Delaware, Hawaii, Illinois, Iowa, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Minnesota, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, Rhode Island, Utah, Vermont, Washington and the District of Columbia.

These states legalized same-sex marriage, thereby ensuring they will all be better pressed, accessorized and smell of lavender.

And, a wag of the finger at the rest of you states. You can all continue to wallow in the stench of backward thinking and fear while living in your trailers that lack tasteful yet vibrant throw pillows. No pop of color for you!

Paula Deen

Paula Deen loses endorsements due to stupid racist remarks = $12.5 Million

The sustained consumption of salt, butter and bacon causes obesity and diabetes = $450 Billion

A Spike Lee/Jaime Oliver/Paula Deen Fight Club session = Priceless

Paula Deen

Spike Lee

Jamie Oliver

God’s Bouncer

Mario Jorge Bergoglio, (ex-bouncer, chemist and janitor) dares to be the bad boy James Dean of Vatican City with his crazy ideas of relieving poverty rather than focusing on old news like homosexuality, premarital sex and abortion. What are you, some kinda Christian?

This kid's the pope!

This kid’s the pope!

Don’t get me wrong – My membership card expired many years ago. I mean, I am a thinking human with ovaries who birthed two males of alter boy age, all of which are cause for concern in the Catholic Club.

This Guy

Shut your pie hole. Really.

Duck Dynasty, Phil Robertson

So, in closing, I bid 2013 a tardy adieu and good riddance. Don’t let the door hit you in that freaky ass on the way out.

 

7 Things I Love About You: A Letter To My Beloved Coffice

7 Things I Love About You: A Letter To My Beloved Coffice

My Dearest Coffice,

With the end of the year nigh upon us, I wanted to take a moment to let you know, beloved coffice (Scenes From A Coffice), how much you have given me this year. You have been my rock and I want to take a moment to let you know of my deep feelings for you.

  1. You were there for me with open arms as I narrowly escaped the life of an unwashed shut-in and an awkward family intervention. You’ve provided me a safe haven in which to mix with other nutjobs with similar afflictions. You have been my savior.
  2. Living in a place as lovely as Santa Barbara, you have been an island of rough edges in an otherwise shiny, tanned and well-pressed city.
  3. You know what I totally love about you? I love the fact that I hesitate before sitting on any of your numerous well-worn couches and chairs for fear of contracting a new strain of antibiotic-immune super virus. Just like home.
  4. Your staff provides the perfect balance of irritation and cool. And, thank you, dreadlock girl, for not laughing at me when I asked if you had hemp milk. I could see that was a real effort and it did not go unnoticed.
  5. Your WiFi has been as steadfast and consistent as my love for you.
  6. You play the coolest music. This of course contributes to my wasting hours of time hitting Shazam over and over again instead of writing. But, I now have the freakin’ most awesome playlist on the planet. It’s like my mixed tape of love for you.
    (Yes, there was that one day when someone decided cross-over country music was the right choice.  I am not unreasonable though and have chalked that up to a lapse in judgment only. No relationship is perfect.)
  7. I hope I’m not overstepping any sense of propriety by saying that your tomato/avocado/lemon pepper toast is nothing short of sublime.

So, in closing, I thank you for always being there for me with a tepid smile, wobbly tables and your abundance of outlets. I am hopelessly devoted to you and I will thank you when I receive my Oscar for Best Screenplay, assuming I ever finish it because OMG I LOVE THIS SONG!!!

Forever yours,

Irene

The Future – Where You Still Have To Plug In Your Laptop

The Future – Where You Still Have To Plug In Your Laptop

SPOILER BLOG!!! Turn away now if you are one of those people who have to experience shit for yourself instead of heeding the warnings of others. Close this down and jump off that bridge, fool. 

I have emerged from the deep, finally, after not posting for several weeks. Life gets in the way often, but NOTHING gets in the way of my annoyance with bad movies so here ya go.

It’s been a while, thankfully I suppose, since I’ve seen a really terrible movie. Not that many of the flicks I’ve sat through will win any awards, but every now and then there is such a stinker that I just have to get my rant on.

I had high hopes for Elysium.

First of all, it had Matt Damon who, up until now, seems to make good choices in his career. He also is just doggone cute and, frankly, hilarious.

God, you are so right. Just look at me…I’m goddamned adorable!

God, you are so right. Just look at me…I’m goddamned adorable!

Secondly, the director is that South African dude who did District 9 which is, in my humble opinion, a freaking awesome sci-fi movie.

So, I will admit that I may have had unrealistic expectations from the start. However, even if I were DOING Matt Damon, I’d slap him upside that adorable noggin.

In a nutshell I’ll give you the rundown to save you the trouble.

  • Poor people are noble, rich people are assholes. WE GET IT!
  • Evidently, even though everyone has a tanning bed-like machines in their homes that can cure everything from Leukemia to a blown off face in a matter of seconds, in the future we will still have to plug our laptops into walls for a network connection. Evidently, wireless didn’t end up working so well. Who knew?
  • You can literally change the political and social direction of an entire planet by typing the word “Legal” in some code. Duly noted.
  • Jodi Foster is not only “not” saying she’s gay, she’s also “not” saying she has completely given up on acting. And, given up on her dialect coach, evidently, because she had the weirdest futuristic French accent ever. If that’s how people talk in 2154, thank god I’ll be long dead because I’d stab them all in the eye.

    Do you see my intense stare and severe haircut. I’m ACTING, people!!

    Do you see my intense stare and severe haircut? I’m ACTING, people!!

  • Diego Luna, a BRILLIANT Mexican actor was totally wasted, being relegated to a street urchin looking like a cross between Tonto and Pippi Longstocking.
image

It makes no sense to us either, Diego.

  • Sharlto Copley, who was awesome in District 9, has also gone to waste. His character is so one-dimensionally evil that by comparison you’d think Hannibal Lector ran a soup kitchen.
Would you like your chowder in a bread bowl?

Would you like your chowder in a bread bowl?

So, to summarize. The future looks stupid and even Matt Damon’s awesome abs can’t save us.

The End.

The Shame of The Domesticated Human

The Shame of The Domesticated Human

Dogs are the leaders of the planet. If you see two life forms, one of them’s making a poop, the other one’s carrying it for him, who would you assume is in charge.
― Jerry Seinfeld

Let me begin by saying that I freaking love animals. Well, almost all animals. I’m not a huge fan of the hyena or the wolverine because they are just huge assholes.

That’s a scientific fact.

Seriously, look at these jackasses!

Seriously, look at these jackasses!

I’ll start over. I love all non-douchebag animals.

Now that we have that established…

I especially love dogs. I have a dog who is so awesome, it’s like if Jesus Christ and Spiderman had a dog baby. Yeah, that’s how god-damned off the hook my dog is.

However, I do sit and ponder at times, as I watch him go at his donkus like it’s his last meal, why we think it’s OK to have these beasts live INSIDE our houses and skulk among us.

(I know you may be wondering if this profound thought occurred to me after the inhalation of some organic substance but the answer is no. I don’t need weed to think like this. At least not this time.)

Most of us generally try to minimize the invasion of outside elements inside our cozy little human dens. We freak out and go all Charles Manson on spiders, flies, mice, rats, whatever living thing was not expressly invited into our Pottery Barn lives.

But, for some reason, we find it completely acceptable to have filthy canines and felines take over our entire home, shed skin and hair all over the place, upchuck anything from cat turds to hairballs to chicken bones on our new area rugs (a wipeable surface isn’t even open for discussion), and practically shoot fleas and ticks at you like one of those t-shirt guns.

Then they top it all off by mining their buttholes with their tongues and proceed to lick you all over the face.

They are totally flipping us off, you know that, right? They are all a pack of hairy grifters pulling the best scam ever.

It really is like we are in some sort of sado-masochistic relationship where we have not established a safe word.

They stink up our houses, lay around all day, don’t pay any rent, demand to be watered AND fed and crap all over our lawns.

It’s like your annoying unemployed brother-in-law has come for an extended visit.

But I don’t have opposable thumbs, dude….be reasonable! You cannot resist me! Now what’s for dinner? And, while you’re up, go get me another beer.

But, damn it, they are so soft and cute!!!

The entire human race has been glammered.  Like vampire glammered.

You will believe the fact that I poop in a box is adorable.

Has anyone even looked into other species to bring into our homes for….whatever the hell it is they do for us?

(Yeah, I know…love, companionship, acceptance. All the stuff we are supposed to get from other humans and don’t. Which is why the divorce rate is so high.)

For your consideration: the naked mole rat. Now here is an animal that can use a little love and acceptance.

Happy little mole rat eating a tuber.

Happy little mole rat eating a tuber.

Just think of the fun little outfits you could dress him in. And, this guy could really use a sweater.

Not so much?

OK, how about a sloth? From what I read in Us Magazine last time I was at the gynecologist, they are all the rage right now.

Yeah, baby. Let’s put on a little R&B, pour a snifter of Courvoisier and……..sorry! I nodded off!

Though, personally, owning one of the seven deadly sins feels a little risky.

OK, so now that I have googled as many weird animals as I can to avoid work, I suppose dogs and cats do have a bit of a case. They’ve learned to adapt to us and we’ve not only adapted to them, we worship them like deities.

What’s that you say, man’s best friend? You need me to express your anal glands?

My pleasure!

Cap’n Crunch And The Weakening of Our Youth

Cap’n Crunch And The Weakening of Our Youth

Captain_Crunch_WTF_507516178

Oh Cap’n, my Cap’n. I am sorely vexed.

I have recently heard what I had hoped was an urban legend – that the original recipe for my favorite weed-induced breakfast cereal has been changed.

I speak, of course, of Cap’n Crunch, Original flavor. Because I require Yellow Dye 5 and 6.

The broken glass and razor nuggets that used to slice up the roof of my mouth, rendering it useless for other foods, is now softer and less abrasive.

Say it isn’t so, Cap’n!

This is yet one more example of the codling of our children. We are at risk of raising a generation of people without leathery upper palettes. People who have smooth inner cheeks and lack the life skills to deal with violent food stuffs.

Why, when I was young we ate only after beating our food into submission in a violent knife fight. Then we washed the jagged shards down with a sugary liquid laden with every chemical dye known to man. And, if it came in a can and was called Hi-C but possessed no known vitamin of any letter, then all the better.

I remember stealing my parent’s Maraschino Cherries from the liquor cabinet. That’s right, I was shooting formaldehyde by the time I was 8.

So, keep your gentrified cereals, you generation of weaklings. I will continue to man-up and chew, unabated.

And to you I say, There Will Be Blood.

Personal Space Invaders

Personal Space Invaders

At one time or another we have all come across one. Some of you may even be one. What I speak of is the Close Talker, the all-too-frequent person who just loves to get all up in your space.

It seems like, and this may just be me and my pile of neurosis, but the universally agreed-upon personal space boundary of 18 inches to 4 feet seems to be in jeopardy. I’d love to think it’s simply my exceptional magnetism that is causing people to stick to me like flies on shit, but I believe it may be a wider spread problem.

It seems to crop up all over the place. At work, social events, standing in lines. Who hasn’t had that  person behind you in line seeming to climb up on your back while waiting to buy their Hot Pockets and Tab?

No one will take your crappy food products, honey. Back off and relax. Do NOT make me mark my territory….because I will. In fact, it’s one of the few times when I sort of wish I had a penis, as marking off that distance would be much more effective with that tool at my disposal.

We are not in China, people! We have wide open prairies here.

We are not in China, people! We have wide open prairies here.

Then, there are those who get up in your junk because they are simply liquored up. These people live in the “negative-space” world where they actually seem to try to crawl inside of you.

Now, I understand situational space limitations when one needs a drink at a crowded bar. I’m not an animal, people. I have feelings.

Barkeep! Another Gin Fizz for the little lady!!

But, if you are pushing your way in for, let’s say, your 10th drink, I no longer have the empathy I would have had for your 1st or 2nd.

I had an experience just recently with this exact situation. While standing at the bar of a groovy new hotspot I started to feel a strange pressure against my back that slowly turned into a full-body press. When I turned around to see who my assailant was, I realized it was a famous person who I will refer to as “Sam” because that is his name.

This fine establishment was obviously not his first stop of the night as he was doing that squinty-eyed swaying sort of thing that indicates either an astigmatism and vertigo or being tanked. Me thinks it was the latter.

So, instead of swaying and toppling over, why not just lean up against someone and hope they don’t make any sudden moves. Find a human lamp post, as it were. And if said lamp post is a woman, and I am a drunk dude, all the better.

I was a human lamp post to the stars. A very proud moment for me. Though not so much for him as he was soon escorted out of the place.

So, the moral of  the story is simply this:

Back the hell off!!!!

I will leave you all with this educational film. Watch it and learn. And, by God, stand your ground!

 

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly of Fashion

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly of Fashion

“If you wore a trend the first time around, you don’t get to wear it the second time around.”
― Stacey London

Oh, Stacey London, you are the Socrates of Style. If only people listened.

Like death and taxes, one can always take comfort in the consistency of bad fashion making a return appearance in our culture. It is a testament to the creative limitations of the fashion industry.

And proof that we are a planet of lemmings.

I’ve often wondered where fashion trends are born. I know where they all die – in the back of my closet. But what sort of demented mastermind came up with the idea to resurrect culottes (which first came into fashion as knee-breeches commonly worn by gentlemen of the European upper-classes from the late Middle Ages or Renaissance).

Yeah, I read shit.

I picture a room full of these guys huffing hairspray and coming up with the Summer line.

I have been unfortunate enough to have been the willing victim of several hideous fashion trends. Just like the rest of you, I have happily worn shoulder pads so big I had to step sideways through doorways. I’ve worn neon mini skirts with suspenders and sang “Oh Mickey You’re So Fine” whilst kicking up my sparkly tennis shoes.

Let’s take a moment to walk down memory lane. Well, not so much memory lane, since most of this crap is back or on it’s way back into the fashion focus. Maybe more of a walk of shame.

Hammer Pants (or the “I’ve taken a dump and you can’t tell” pant)

Then:

A bit of street pimp with a dash of Ali Baba.

Now:

Jesus, Chris Brown, did you beat Rihanna with that thing?

The One-piece Jumper

Then:

Just because you could make it in you hobby room, does not mean you should.

Now:

I want to wrap him in a blanket and put him down for a nap.

I want to wrap him in a blanket and put him down for a nap.

 Overalls

Then:

The item of clothing that knew no racial, gender or economic boundaries.

The item of clothing that knew no racial, gender or economic boundaries.

Now:

Here, let me just put on my jaunty chapeau before I hit the fields, Pa Joad.

 Bonus Now:

I…wha?....huh??? I am a business man. No, I am a blue collar man. No, I am a bookish hipster. How about just NO!

I…wha?….huh??? I am a business man. No, I am a blue collar man. No, I am a bookish hipster. How about just NO!

Double Bonus Now:

What do we love more than a hillbilly? A BRILLIANT hillbilly!

What do we love more than a hillbilly? A BRILLIANT hillbilly!

I could go on for many pages about neon, ripped up t-shirts, Varnais sunglasses, mock turtlenecks and platform tennis shoes. But, I think we all get the rather sordid picture here. So, I will leave you with a quote from my favorite famous gay, who is NEVER wrong.

“Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months.”
― Oscar Wilde

Valentine’s Day – SPOILER ALERT From A Grumpy Non-Romantic

Valentine’s Day – SPOILER ALERT From A Grumpy Non-Romantic

I am not a Valentine’s Day type of gal. It’s never mattered what my relationship status has been. I just have never gotten into it.

I see it like I see New Year’s Eve – it’s amateur night.

But, in honor of St. Valentine (who most people think was made up by Geoffrey Chaucer who I love so maybe it all makes sense after all) I will throw a giant bucket of cold water on the event everyone is hoping will happen tonight.

Yep, I’m all sour grapes. Turn back now.

With the constant deluge of “leaked” celebrity sex tapes, I think we may all be under the misguided idea that we are looking pretty hot and sexy ourselves during “the sex.”

I hate to burst any bubbles, but most of the time these celebrities are fully aware they are being taped so they are adjusting their responses accordingly, able to look seductive and well-coiffed even at the peak of the experience.

They are THESPIANS after all, with many having completed the all-important Porn Method Acting 101 class.

The rest of us, however, look like we either stubbed our toe or ate a lemon when we reach the top of the mountain. But we don’t know it and we don’t particularly care because NO ONE IS LOOKING.

It’s in our DNA to close our eyes because otherwise the human race would cease to exist. It’s hard to get that picture out of one’s head once it’s there.

Let’s face it, real people sex, while lot’s of fun, can be kind of ugly to look at since, despite what may be happening in your head at the time, we are not professionals.

Exhibit A:

What we think we look like.

What we think we look like.

 

The terrible reality.

The terrible reality.

So, Godspeed, my romantic darlings. Buy those giant hearts full of chocolate and the red roses, wear that super tight dress to dinner and, for the sake of humankind, keep those eyes closed!

[Creative disclaimer: In reality, I am a hopeless romantic. Hell, Love Actually is my favorite movie! But hopeful and happy is just not as funny as bitter and grumpy.] 

Fact: Zombies Don’t Floss

Fact: Zombies Don’t Floss

Some of you may have gathered by now that I have a tendency to get a little obsessive about some odd little thing. Ya think?

So, in keeping with that, I’d like to take just a moment to discuss our nations disturbing tolerance, nay acceptance, of bad oral hygiene.

Let’s start with two of my favorite movies this year – Django Unchained  and Les Miserables. Is there an award for best dental makeup? If so, it would be a dead heat.

I think the attention to detail is fantastic but the quantity of sheer gore in Django did nothing to turn my stomach like Leonardo Dicaprio’s mouth.

Though, I do posit this question: How could his teeth be so nasty while his skin is still so….luminous?

Why did I still find him repugnantly attractive?

Why did I still find him repugnantly attractive?

It was a similar experience with visiting early 1800’s France. There wasn’t a pearly white in that country, evidently.

Not only could I feel the winds of revolutionary change, I could smell the thick fog of halitosis wash over me along with the national pride.

Thank God John Waters didn’t take this one on and add Smell-O-Rama to the experience.

I think tooth decay is the new terminal disease with actors and a sure-fire road to an Oscar nod.

You have Alzheimer’s, Cancer, Irritable Bowel Syndrome? You acting hack! Smear some green gunk on your teeth and look odiferous and you are a THESPIAN!

So, now on to the smaller screen and some actual, real people who clearly do not have a dental staff.

**Disclaimer: I have seen a combined 90 seconds of all the hillbilly TV shows that are on right now. So, yes, I am making a leap of judgment. But, I feel OK with that. I can be judgey, don’t judge me for that.

Not sure there is much to say, really, with titles like Hillbilly Handfishin’ (one must always remember to drop the “g” to be authentic), Duck Dynasty (I actually thought this was some sort of homage to Daffy Duck but I was very wrong), and Swamp People (obvious),  I think we can safely surmise that Hillbilly Dentist is not doing a gangbuster business.

Which brings me to my idea for an awesome new show called….you guessed it….Hillbilly Dentist, where a Doctor’s Without Borders type group of dentists travel the Bayou in search of the most disgusting maw.

Look Mama, I’m on the television box!

Look Mama, I’m on the television box!

I think our tolerance for watching icky things has run amuck. I can watch people do unspeakable things that are usually reserved for the privacy of ones home (or are deemed illegal by the health department in many states) and not blink an eye.

I make one exception for Zombies. It is a fact that they do not floss so I give them a pass on the whole dental thing.

Brains! Sonicare! Brains! This is so hard!!

Brains! Sonicare! Brains! This is so hard!!

None the less, I sit squarely in the shallowness of simply not liking to look at non-Zombie rotting bridgework.

And, remember kids, in the words of the prophet, Dr. Seuss:

“Don’t gobble junk like Billy Billings, they say his teeth have fifty fillings.”