Monday, March 31, 2008
The theme for the next Mama D's Arts Bordello is "Guilty Pleasures". We'll have four writers both penning and performing a segment of a smutty, delicious, sex-filled, cat fight ridden, glamorous Jackie Collins-style story. We will also have burlesque dancers, go-go dancers and a trivia contest, where you will be able to win various guilty pleasures to take home.
I am compiling the soundtrack to this delightful event, to play before and after the show. Naturally, the music has to be all guilty pleasures.
This is where you come in...
What are your favorite musical guilty pleasures?
And before anyone adds this one:
JUMP IN MY CAR
Believe me, I've already got it on the list.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Just read this today, after leaving the bathroom:
WELLINGTON, New Zealand - A New Zealand man got the fright of his life when a runaway SUV crashed into his house and knocked him off the toilet, a newspaper reported Friday.See, already my day has improved. I had no idea that I should be grateful for the luxury of having an uninterrupted morning poo.Forget about walking a mile in another man's shoes. Sometimes you have to shit on another man's toilet to really see how good you've got it in this life.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Today I learned that pandas are not exactly promiscuous. Apparently, bumping uglies holds little appeal to them. Not content to leave the pandas alone in their asexual, bamboo-munching state, workers at the Beijing zoo are resorting to drastic measures to hornify them:
BEIJING (AFP) - China's notoriously sex-shy pandas are being put through a rigorous "sexercise" programme in a new effort to encourage them to mate, state media reported on Tuesday.
The Chengdu Panda Breeding and Research Centre in the southwestern province of Sichuan is making male pandas walk on their two legs to strengthen their pelvic and hip muscles, to better prepare them for sex, the China Daily said.
The move, which is achieved by luring male pandas up with an apple, looks remarkably like a dance routine and is aimed to boost the animal's sexual stamina, the report said.
Giant pandas are known to be sexually inactive, but the new measure follows several other initiatives taken to try and encourage breeding, including panda pornography.
Top 5 List of Panda Porno Names:
1. Tian Tian Jones and The Temple of Poon
2. How Mei Xiang Got Her Tube Packed
3. Su Lin Does Beijing
4. Bearly Legal
5. Black and White Cock Down
BONUS: Two Pandas, One Box
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
New York's new governor, David Paterson, really seems to have a penchant for volunteering information about himself. I guess he doesn't want to literally be caught with his pants down like disgraced former governor Spitzer. It's admirable I suppose, the way he keeps raising his hand saying, "But wait! There's more!"
Still, all this airing of dirty laundry is starting to make me laugh:
NEW YORK - New York's new governor, who disclosed last week that he and his wife both committed adultery several years ago, said Monday that he used cocaine in his 20s and smoked marijuana when he was younger.
In reference to cocaine, Gov. David Paterson, 53, said in a television interview that he "tried it a couple of times" when he was "about 22 or 23...And marijuana probably when I was about 20," he said on the NY1 cable news station.
Now that the sex and drug secrets have been disclosed, I am awaiting the lesser revelations. How soon before he calls a press conference to admit the following:
1. Sometimes, on any given Wednesday, I pick my toes in bed while my wife is asleep.
2. I'm not overly fond of chickpeas. And I only pretend to like cornish game hens.
3. Flossing isn't always top priority.
4. Call me crazy, but I still think Drakkar Noir is a nice clean scent.
5. There are several Hootie and the Blowfish songs on my i-pod.
Monday, March 24, 2008
I woke up today, my apartment still smelling of Easter ham, and read this headline:
"1986 Message in Bottle Drifts 1,735 Miles".
Intrigued, I read further:
SEATTLE - Merle Brandell and his black lab Slapsey were beachcombing along the Bering Sea when he spied a plastic bottle among the Japanese glass floats he often finds along the shore of his tiny Alaskan fishing village.
He walked over and saw an envelope tucked inside. After slicing the bottle open, Brandell found a message from an elementary school student in a suburb of Seattle. The fact that the letter traveled 1,735 miles without any help from the U.S. postal service is unusual, but that's only the beginning of the mystery.
About 21 years passed between the time Emily Hwaung put the message in a soda bottle and Merle Brandell picked it up on the beach.
"This letter is part of our science project to study oceans and learn about people in distant lands," she wrote. "Please send the date and location of the bottle with your address. I will send you my picture and tell you when and where the bottle was placed in the ocean. Your friend, Emily Hwaung."
Now, apparently, Emily did not write the message. All the kids used the same type-written message and simply signed their names to the letters.
THIS IS A CRYING SHAME.
I'd much prefer to read the contents of personal 1986 messages from 4th graders, to give some real flavor from that year.
Some of them might read like this:
1. Corey Feldman rules!
2. My friend Trish has a Care Bears Trapper Keeper. She is such a dweeb.
3. Mom got me a Walkman and the new Cyndi Lauper tape for my birthday. She's way cooler than Madonna. You can totally tell she's the one who people will still like even when we're in high school and stuff.
4. Our teacher said that in the future, they will put like, a whole library of stuff on like, one computer chip. There's no way, right?
5. There's this boy Ryan who totally likes me. And me and Jill played MASH, and it said that me and Ryan are gonna get married and live in a mansion and drive a Ferrari. It could happen.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
A Peon Confidential reader just sent me a link to this headline:
"Woman Goes for Leg Operation, Gets New Anus Instead"
And no, this story wasn't from The Onion. It was from The Daily Telegraph. This actually happened at a hospital in Germany. The reason given was a "paperwork mix up" between two patients.
A few questions:
1. Admittedly, I'm not sure what a healthy anus looks like. Maybe broken down anuses and tight anuses look very much the same. But if this is not the case-why didn't the doctor see that the patient's old anus was in functioning order and not in need of repair? Did he go to on-line medical school or something?
2. How about the term "new anus"? I realize this implies some type of anal tune up. But imagine if this sorry woman got a donor anus! Can you picture a stockpile of replacement anuses?
3. How much would you love to be the medical professional who had to deliver this news to the patient:
"Uh. Yeah. Your leg is still fucked up. But check out your new anus! Why don't you give it a test drive? Pretty sweet huh?"
4. Where is the sad, incontinent patient who is still awaiting her new anus? Does she feel cheated? Did she get the leg operation?
5. What are the odds that Hallmark is designing a line of cards specifically for this situation:
Just a little note to say,
I heard about your anus today,
You were scheduled for a leg operation,
Instead your sphincter is a new sensation
We hope you enjoy your multi-million dollar compensation
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
I'm not an American Idol fan. The last episode I watched featured Kelly Clarkson, so clearly the magic faded a long time ago.
I could be persuaded to tune in again if instead of the same boring old "Motown Night" or "Disco Night" or "Broadway Tunes Night" American Idol offered up some of these intriguing themes...
1. Yoko Ono Night: Imagine an entire hour where each contestant caterwauled like Yoko.
2. Songs Mixed By Music Producers That Madonna Blew Before Getting Her Big Break Night: Not sure which songs we'd hear, but it could be fun.
3. Hidden Masturbation Reference Night: This would include Billy Idol's "Dancing With Myself" Cyndi Lauper's "She Bop" and The Vapors' "I Think I'm Turning Japanese".
which leads me to...
4. Tipper Gore's PMRC Censorship Night: The kids would belt out hits such as Prince's "Darling Nikki" and The Scorpions "Rock You Like A Hurricane".
which ultimately brings me to...
5. Songs About Hookers Night-A Tribute to Fallen Politicians: We'd be entertained by the likes of The Police's "Roxanne" and Patti LaBelle's "Lady Marmalade".
Monday, March 17, 2008
PHOTO: AFP/GETTY IMAGES/Gavin Averill
Taking a bit of a break from the humorous posts today to express my concern for anyone who was in downtown Atlanta during that horrendous tornado. The photos are shocking, as are the reports of furniture and luggage flying out of busted windows from the Omni Hotel.
I hope any Atlanta CNNers who were working that night are doing well. If anyone has any first hand accounts of what it was like to be in the newsroom, please let us know...
Friday, March 14, 2008
I woke up this morning to a touching AP story starring a fellow New Yorker:
Careful with that coffee! Police say a man placing an order in a suburban New York doughnut shop's drive-through lane didn't have any pants on.
They say a Dunkin' Donuts worker saw John Greco's exposed genitals in the Feb. 27 stunt and then noted the make of his car and his license plate number.
Police say the 46-year-old Croton-on-Hudson resident was arrested last week and has been charged with misdemeanor public lewdness. He's due in court March 27.
Police released a statement Thursday saying it was "unknown how Mr. Greco took his coffee that day."
A few comments...
1. Did Mr. Greco choose Dunkin' Donuts in particular? Does he, like Rachael Ray, savor the taste of their fresh ground coffee? Or did this Dunkin' Donuts simply have the misfortune of being on his pants-free route that day?
2. Honestly, if I had been working the window at Dunkin' Donuts and saw Mr. Greco's equipment, I'd be more likely to call a former CNN Peon to giggle about it than I would the police.
It appears those "McGruff the Crime Dog" ads I saw as a kid had no impact on me whatsoever. I just don't think I could "take a bite out of crime" in this instance.
3. I'm not sure which policeman came up with that savvy statement, but whoever you are, you're my hero.
Monday, March 10, 2008
It seems to me that today's celebrities are always branching out, seizing marketing opportunities wherever they can. This has resulted in Donald Trump's Signature Collection, Rihanna's umbrellas, Rachael Ray's garbage bowls and countless crappy celebrity perfumes cluttering up the shelves at Walgreens. (My current favorites are Antonio Banderas' "Diavolo So Sexy" and Shania Twain's "Starlight".)
Pity the stars of yesteryear who did not have the foresight to embrace this trend.
Imagine how much money could have been made off of:
1. Bill Cosby brand sweaters (see above)
2. Burt Reynolds brand mustache groomers
3. Suzanne Somers brand nude pantyhose, to be worn under Suzanne Somers brand shorty shorts
4. Duran Duran brand mousse and gel collection
5. Seinfeld brand suburban dork jeans
The possibilities are infinite...
Thursday, March 06, 2008
I just read that Shaun Clancy, the owner of an Irish pub in New York called Foley's, has decided to ban the song "Danny Boy" for the entire month of March. The thinking is that it's a sad song, and not particularly St. Pat's friendly.
Good PR ploy of course, and a nice respite for his regulars.
But it got me to thinking:
What other songs, which have been overplayed in certain situations, should be banned for good in said situations?
Here's what I came up with:
1. No one should ever have to hear The Beach Boys' wince inducing song "Kokomo" or any Jimmy Buffet ditty sung by an acoustic guitar player clad in a Hawaiian shirt at an all-inclusive tropical resort. Part of the all-inclusive experience should include the right to snatch the acoustic guitar and shove it up the singer's ass (wide end first) upon hearing these songs.
2. No wedding DJ should ever subject a wedding party to Abba's "Dancing Queen" or Kool and the Gang's "Celebration" or the BeeGees' "Stayin' Alive". How I fucking hate it when the opening chords of "Stayin' Alive" come over the sound system and the roar of joyous recognition erupts as people start doing the whole finger-pointing up-and-down business with hand on hips. Then they laugh at how hilarious and "ironic" they are. Oh ho ho! Hee! Disco is so funny!
3. Midtown bars need to ban any and all songs which inspire stupid drunk chicks to sing to each other. This irritation is compounded when they sing into their bottles of beer, pretending the bottle is a microphone. I realize this ban might result in a music-free bar. But I don't care. These "Good Time Kaitlyns" and their micro-bottles are an abomination.
4. Any song by U2 at a political rally. Is it just me or does it seem like every politician chooses U2 to appear socially conscious but hip? Actually, I think it's just me. But fuck it. I don't like it.
5. That irritating Gypsy Kings album that I swear has been on rotation at nearly every Mediterranean restaurant in every city since it was first released. Who decided this was great background music in which to enjoy hummus? Did all the Mediterranean restaurant owners get together at some type of tribunal? Even the tiny Mediterranean restaurant on Whidbey Island that I worked after school played it. I cannot understand this. When will it end? A person has the right to enjoy baklava without hearing that shit.
If anyone else wants to step in and offer up a banned music recommendation, feel free...
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
It's happened again. Some mendacious writer decided to do some slumming by proxy, and claim the experience as her own. Worse, she justified her lies by stating, "I thought it was my opportunity to put a voice to people who people don't listen to."
And naturally, I've got commentary...
A memoir by a white woman who claimed she was raised in poverty by a black foster mother and sold drugs for a gang in a tough Los Angeles neighborhood has turned out to be pure fiction, a newspaper report says.
In "Love and Consequences," published last week by Penguin Group USA imprint Riverhead Books, author Margaret B. Jones writes about growing up as a half-white, half-Native American girl in South-Central Los Angeles in the foster home of Big Mom. One of her foster brothers, she writes, was gunned down by Crips gang members outside their home. Jones also writes of carrying illegal guns and selling drugs for the Bloods gang.
The publisher has recalled all copies of the book and has canceled Jones's book tour, which was to begin on Monday.
Margaret B. Jones is a pseudonym for Margaret Seltzer, who is white and grew up in a well-off area of San Fernando Valley in California with her biological family, the Times says. She attended a private Episcopal day school and never lived with a foster family or sold drugs for a gang.
Jones admitted to the Times that her memoir was fully fabricated. Many of the experiences recounted in the book, she told the newspaper, were based on the experiences of friends she had met while doing anti-gang outreach in Los Angeles.
The "Love and Consequences" scandal follows last week's discovery that the Holocaust memoir "Misha: A Memoire of the Holocaust Years," by Misha Defonseca, was a fake. Two years ago, James Frey, the author of an Oprah Book Club selected memoir, "A Million Little Pieces," admitted he had made up or exaggerated details about his drug addiction and recovery.
As a person who would love to have been published by Riverhead books and be off on a whirlwind book tour, my thoughts on this new literary embarrassment are:
-When the hell is the publishing industry going to wake up and realize that "real life" rarely has a juicy narrative arc?
-When the hell are today's readers going to dispense with the notion that non-fiction books best reflect human experience?
If you look at some of the books have taught us the most about ourselves, that have accurately described the times in which we live, they are novels. "The Great Gatsby" beautifully depicts the social whirl of the 1920s, and the emptiness that ensued. "The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit" perfectly describes the boredom and displacement felt by the men who were returning from World War II. All these years later, "Catcher in the Rye" still evokes teenage angst in a way that transcends generations. And some of Stephen King's works practically define America's late 20th century fears-technology run amok, the disintegration of the family, the perils of fame.
These stories did not have to be true to convey authenticity. Of course elements were drawn from real life experience; that's intrinsic to any writer's work. But these books were obviously never sold as real life accounts. They were just superbly written, and readers could identify with the characters, because the stories felt real. If there is honesty in a novel, the truths revealed can be far more powerful than a stack of memoirs. But unlike the real world which they seek to reflect, novels can cut out the dull details, and whisk us away from our shitty subway ride or cubicle lunch break.
Oscar Wilde once said, "What art really reveals to us is nature's lack of design, her curious crudities, her extraordinary monotony, her absolutley unfinished condition."
It's no wonder memoirs turn out to be riddled with lies. The daily grind just isn't up to artistic standards.
Life, it turns out, isn't ready-made for best sellers.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Those of you with gmail accounts are well aware of how gmail places ads based on the content of your e-mails. It creeps me out a bit. And as my e-mails include words like pubic hair, crotch rocket and lime jello, I get some rather odd items pitched in my direction.
The most recent one was this: TACO STANDUPS.
Note the description: "Preparation is twice as fast because now you have both hands free. No more balancing act -- no more taco fallout. You'll serve your family and friends your delicious tacos in a visually pleasing, appetizing new way. Everyone absolutely loves new Taco StandUps and I promise that you will too...No kitchen is complete without them."
No more taco fallout! This is the breakthrough I've been searching for.
But it gets better. Intrigued, I checked out the testimonials, where I found Shelly from Kansas, who offered up this glowing review:
"This is a great product. I use them and don’t know how I ever got along without them."
You see that? Now that she has experienced the sheer culinary joy, the incredible life-affirming usefulness of Taco StandUps, Shelly from Kansas cannot fathom a world without them. Pity the poor people in developing nations who have never heard of Taco StandUps. Shed a tear for the downtrodden folk like me, who have been struggling through each day without the aid of Taco StandUps.
But consider this:
Within this website is the key to winning the war on terrorism. When your citizens more interested in Taco StandUps than political and religious zealotry, you have a peaceful nation. When your nation's people are bored and fat, peace is the natural result. When all the nations that are breeding grounds for terrorism find the majority of their citizens are gainfully employed, sitting in cubicles, counting the minutes, putting Dilbert cartoons up on their laminate walls, posting testimonials for shitty products that they don't need and getting paid for wasting company time--that dear readers, is the pathway to peace.