GROCERY STORE ROCK ANTHEMS

Always on the lookout for the next best thing (yet somehow never making a profit) I've come up with yet another stellar marketing idea: Grocery Store Rock Anthems.

During my years of food shopping experience, I've noticed that there are certain grocery store music staples that never go away. These songs are mellow, non-threatening and presumably help the shopper feel calm yet just a tad... jazzy as they select pork chops and laundry detergent. I'm not sure what types of tests were conducted, but it is astonishing how the same songs are routinely played over and over. These staples include such hits as "Sweet Love" by Anita Baker, "Get Out Of My Dreams" (Get into my Car) by Billy Ocean and anything by Phil Collins.

Admittedly, these songs are also inevitably played at generic midtown diners and low-rent department stores.

Now, while I genuinely dislike the bulk of these songs, there are a few exceptions that I can tolerate. Some I even get excited about. I will be in mid-squeeze of a cantaloupe, mid-inspection of a rump roast and start to grin when I hear them.
Unafraid of the chiding that could ensue, here's a sampling of the songs that get my toes tapping on the grocery store linoleum:

1. "Maggie May" by Rod Stewart
2. "Tempted" by Squeeze
3. "Brass In Pocket" by the Pretenders
4. "Vision of Love" by Mariah Carey
5. Almost anything by Hall and Oates

Grocery Store Rock Anthems of the future:
Anything by Keane, who really are the heir apparent to Christopher Cross.

If you feel like helping me compile the Greatest Hits of Grocery Store Rock, why, feel free. With any luck, this could turn into a Late Night Infomercial!

BLIND ITEM #10

Which southern fried CNN personality had a problem with her "Aunt Flow" and her cash flow? Turns out she wound up asking a tour guide to buy her a tampon while she was stuck in a CNN Center bathroom stall. The tour guide obliged...but was never compensated.
Sure it was only a couple bucks. And I know Elizabeth wasn't there to help you. But friend, couldn't you have been a little sweeter to a minimum wage employee?

SAY IT LOUD!

Just turn on your TV or open a paper and it's obvious that we are immersed in a heady swarm of political posturing. So now I urge all you residents of Virginia--let your voices be heard!
Prepare to be politically outraged:

"RICHMOND, Va. - If you're served a pitcher of authentic sangria in a Virginia restaurant, someone's breaking the law. Since 1934, the state has prohibited mixing wine or beer with spirits. Frances McDonald, vice president of La Tasca Spanish Tapas Bar and Restaurants, found that out the hard way when his Alexandria location was cited for violating the sangria ban in 2006 and fined $2,000. McDonald and managing partner Shana McKillop appealed their case to the Alcoholic Beverage Control Board on Thursday before going to the Capitol to urge legislators to pass a bill legalizing the red wine, liqueur and fruit concoction.
McDonald said his business received no warning about the ban. He said he was unaware of the prohibition and had he known about it would not have located any of his five restaurants in Virginia. "It's like not being able to serve tequila in a Mexican restaurant," he said.
The Alcoholic Beverage Control Department agent who cited La Tasca even ordered restaurant employees to pour its sangria — about 40 liters — down the drain, said Shana McKillop, managing partner at the Alexandria restaurant.
A ruling on the La Tasca's appeal should take two to four weeks, said Kristy Marshall, a spokeswoman for the ABC Department. In the meantime, the restaurant has taken to modifying its sangria recipe. The brandy has been eliminated and the triple sec replaced with a nonalcoholic orange liqueur..."

This is an abomination! This so called "law" behooves no one. I demand justice for the sangria drinkers of Virginia. Someone has to stand up for them. Damn it, we should not stand idly by and watch them be discriminated against like this.
PROTEST MARCH!

THE MAD POOPER OF MADISON

Here I am, calmly enjoying last night's pasta ala vodka for breakfast, listening to salsa music, when suddenly I come across this article from The Associated Press:

"MADISON, Wis. - Repeated discoveries of human feces in clothing and other items left in an apartment building's basement laundry room led to charges Thursday against a 19-year-old man. Authorities said Ronnie A. Ballard was arrested after a woman whose laundry had been soiled chased him back to his apartment in an adjoining building.

Residents also reported finding feces in shoes and boots in an apartment hallway and in washing machines where it soiled a comforter, baby clothes and other items that had to be thrown out.

Ballard was charged with three counts of disorderly conduct, three counts of criminal damage to property and one count of bail jumping. Court records showed he also is facing charges of lewd and lascivious behavior in Waukesha and Lincoln counties."


First off-
Kudos to the woman who chased this guy back to his apartment! Lady, you are a superior crime stopper. That's commitment! I guess poopy laundry will put a spring in your step.

But secondly-
How does this happen? At what point does a person decide to wake up, get a cup of bowel churning McDonald's coffee and poop in his neighbor's shoes?

ONE WORD YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR FROM DAD

So-
Yesterday I called my parents' house. My Dad and I don't usually talk much. He usually makes a comment about the weather and then hands the phone off to my mom. I love him, but since I'm not a doctor or a hockey enthusiast like he is, our conversational material is limited.
But yesterday, our conversation went like this:

"Hello?"
"Hi Dad."
"Hi Kid. I'll tell ya, I've been rethinking my theory on the Human Papilloma Virus. I think it stems from the smegma of uncircumcised men. Women have unprotected sex with uncircumcised men, and are exposed to it. Smegma is the link. Huh. Well, here's your mom. (Shouts in the distance) Honey! The Kid's on the phone!"

In all honesty, I did not even know that "smegma" was a medical term. I certainly did not wish to hear that word so early in the morning...from my Dad.
I think this is why I have a hard time buying him a Father's Day card. They all have sweet pictures of a jolly Dad on a fishing boat, or playing golf or pushing his daughter on the swing set.
I've looked, but none of them have a balding man in a velour track suit, swearing at the hockey game on TV, eating canned soup and talking to his kid about smegma theories.

LINGUISTIC RECYCLING

Due to sheer linguistic laziness, there are several expressions that have been overused to the point of parody. Now the only way these expressions can be uttered is in jest. But the problem is that even in jest they are stale. These are often the "go to" office witticisms. When someone uses them, I want to leap up, grab the nearest stapler and staple their ass shut.
Why the ass and not the mouth? Because this would serve two purposes:

A. They'd stop trying to be funny, as they'd be in pain
B. Seeing a stapled ass (possibly encased in Dockers) would actually make me laugh, unlike their recycled humor

Some of these offending expressions include:

1. "I don't even KNOW you anymore."

2. "How's that workin' for ya?" (Okay-this one is purely Dr. Phil's fault.)

3. "I LOVE you, man."

4. "I just need some ME time, you know?"

5. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." (People who still think this is funny should be shot, then have their asses stapled shut.)

6. "You're DEAD to me!"

7. "You ROCK!"

Any others? I know I'm missing quite a few irritants...

BLIND ITEM #9

Which CNN talking head, known more for a winning smile than knowledge of facts and figures, went to the bathroom during the show and forgot to take off their microphone pack.
Consequently, it fell into the toilet.

PRECIOUS MOMENTS POSSIBILITIES

So-
I took a break from reading serious blogs about serious political issues and discovered something quite appalling:
Somewhere deep in Carthage, Missouri, there is a Precious Moments Theme Park. I have always been repulsed by those creepy, big-eyed porcelain figurines that are coveted by sweat suited hausfraus across the nation. They all have titles like "Mom, You Are a Bouquet of Understanding" or "A Sprinkle on a Sunny Day is So Refreshing" or "Grandma's Love is One Size Fits All".
And this shit is EXPENSIVE! I had no idea. As for the little fella in the pic above-with that jaunty pose he should be called "Patriotically Skipping to Elton John's House".
The point is, I am amazed that there is theme park for these disturbing creatures. And by the looks of it, many fat, dull, white folks enjoy making the pilgrimage to Carthage, Missouri to experience the Precious splendor of it all. Do yourself a favor and click on the link. They have a replica of the Sistine Chapel-but with those scary Precious Moments kids on the ceiling instead of Michelangelo's gorgeous paintings.
I found all of this so fascinating that I...I...I...signed up to get my weekly Precious Moments Inspirational Quote!
However, so far, I have received nothing. Am I not worthy? Just because I don't have an oak curio cabinet from Rooms To Go filled with Precious Moments figurines is no reason to deny me my inspirational quote. In fact, just to show how committed I am to the cause, I came up with five new Precious Moments figurine ideas:

1. Mom, Just Because You're Really, Really Fat Doesn't Mean I Don't Love You

2. Morning Poops Make Me Smile

3. A Sister Is A Precious Friend, Even If You've Fucked Her Husband

4. Boners are Precious

5. Count Your Blessings, Because I'm About To Sue Your Ass

NAME THAT PEON WINNER

Just when I thought all hope was lost, we finally have a winner for the Name That Peon Contest!
Yes, a Peon Confidential reader known as "Lou Waters' Turquoise Ring" successfully figured out who the lucky, lucky fellow was posing with Charo.
Congratulations!
Your Mama D's Arts Bordello t-shirt is on its way...

UNEMPLOYED YOUTH ACTIVITIES

Just read this from the Associated Press:

"NEW DELHI - A northern Indian state said Thursday it planned to use unemployed youths to sterilize monkeys to try to combat aggressive primates who have been raiding farms."

This is mildly upsetting. In fact, I feel very grateful that we live in a country where as an unemployed youth I was able to spend my time doing things such as:

1. Raiding the attic for my mom's disco jumpsuits. Then putting on these disco jumpsuits and pretending to be on Broadway, as I belted out "There's No Business Like Show Business" in the bathroom. The acoustics and mirror in there were excellent.

2. Playing endless games of Life, Connect Four, Stratego, and Clue with pals. Of course, I would always demand to be Miss Scarlett, because she was so glamorous. Occasionally, I had to fight for this honor. Once I got stuck being Colonel Mustard. This was unacceptable. A fat fuck with a bad mustache was no match for Miss Scarlett's long cigarette holder.

3. Putting bunched up pillow cases down the back of my pants, thereby creating a massive, bouncing ass and dancing to George Michael's classic "I Want Your Sex".

4. Prank calling teachers, back when there was no Caller ID.

5. Mooning unsuspecting tourists who were returning from magical, quaint Whidbey Island while we were waiting for the Mukilteo ferry.

The point is, as unemployed youths, no one had to sterilize any monkeys.
Three cheers for the Red White and Blue!

BOWEL MOVEMENTS: TAKE ME HOME

Tragedy has struck:
There is no winner for the Name That Peon contest.
This is most upsetting, so I will not dwell upon it. I wanted to give out a t-shirt, thereby garnering publicity for Mama D's and offering a gym t-shirt for someone else.
Alas, it was not meant to be.

Anyway,
I was talking to a former CNNer the other night, and I came to a truly fascinating conclusion:
My bowels prefer their home base toilet.
It's true.
It's as though they have Toilet GPS. They know! Only my own toilet will do.
When I am on vacation--I will be stopped up for days.
When I am at work--never happens.
At a friend's house--no way.
The only other place my bowels will accept is the Lord and Taylor bathroom on 5th Avenue.
How fortunate this is for Lord and Taylor! It's like they won the lottery.
But does any one else have this problem?

Yeah.
Wow.
I wonder if Al Gore is pleased to know that his invention has spawned discussion about Toilet GPS...

Happy New Year, by the way.

NAME THAT PEON

Happy New Year's Eve! To kick off your celebrations, we're introducing a brand new sensation here at Peon Confidential: It's our Name That Peon Contest!
As you can see in the above photo, a former CNN Peon had the distinct honor of posing for a glamorous photo with Charo. Not many people can reach such a level of glory and fame by proxy.
So-
Here's how this will go down. The first person to email me with the correct name of the individual hiding behind the Mama D's Arts Bordello logo will win a prize. The e-mail address is VJDUTTON@GMAIL.COM
A subsidiary of the Peon Confidential enterprise, Mama D's Arts Bordello is a sleazy variety show offering burlesque, live music, trivia contests, readers and films. As such, the prize for the Name That Peon Contest will be a beautiful Mama D's Arts Bordello t-shirt. This high quality, fashionable item is emblazoned with our sexy logo, designed by yet another former CNN Peon. This t-shirt is like no other. You will surely get laid just because you wear it, and provide advertisement for Mama D's Arts Bordello.
But remember:
Please don't post the name of this former CNN Peon on the blog. Veiled references are okay, but no names. It is essential to preserve the integrity of anonymity here. For the same reason, when we have a winner, I will offer an update with a sneaky nickname of the winner's choice. Consequently, this is a contest where only the winner and I know:

A. what the correct answer is
and
B. the winner's name

Is this unsatisfying or strangely intriguing?
Will this crazy scheme work?
Let's find out.
Good luck!

5 WORST TV THEMES OF ALL TIME

I'd like to begin by promising that you will all get your George Jefferson strut as soon as I can figure out how to work the camera feature on this new fangled computer here.
But until then-
In the last post, I celebrated my winter friend TV. Today, I point out TV's flaws. Unlike Barbra Streisand's "Prince of Tides" manicure, Burt Reynold's circa 1982 mustache or Clay Aiken's heterosexual tendencies, TV is not perfect.
Some theme songs are an abomination. Take these for example:

1. FULL HOUSE
I fucking HATE this show. This was the worst show OF ALL TIME. And yes, I'm including both "She's the Sheriff" And "Cop Rock" when I make this assessment. (And in all honesty, COP ROCK was kind of cool.)
But this anal wart of a show was rancid. Horrible. Horrible. Horrible.
Every episode went something like this:

Uncle Jessie: Michelle, girls can do anything boys can do/You're special/It's okay if you made wee wee in my guitar.
Interchangeable Olsen Twin: (Making Fonzie thumb) You're cool, dude.

Cue laugh/AAAWWWWW track.

2. PERFECT STRANGERS
Cousin Larry?
Yes Balki.
Why does your nose look like a penis?

3. PUNKY BREWSTER
Annoying pussy singer. I'm picturing him living in an apartment with too many ferns. Wow. Ferns are such 80's plants. No one has ferns in their home anymore, do they?

4. ALF
Who decided that smooth jazz=creepy alien puppet?

5. FRIENDS
I always hated this damn song. That clapping bit makes me want to rhythmically fart on all of the actors.

Anyone want to defend these theme songs? Or add to this tragic list?

TOP 5 TV THEMES OF ALL TIME

So-
In the winter months, TV is my friend. TV is right here. I do not have to find a cab in the snow and sleet, battle subway crowds or buy a bottle of wine to present as a hostess gift. TV demands nothing of me.
In celebration of my winter friend, I have compiled my all time favorite TV themes. These are in no particular order:

1. THE JEFFERSONS
I'd also like to point out that I can do a mean George Jefferson walk. Perhaps I will incorporate this into my elf shtick at the Elf Academy.

2. SANFORD AND SON
Pure, sweet 70's wonk.

3. MR. BELVEDERE
Shitty show, brilliant theme song. A favorite of mine when singing in the shower.

4. MAUDE
Now, I rarely actually get to watch this show, as it doesn't appear to be in heavy TV Land rerun rotation. But oh, that Maude with her flowy vests and bitchy liberal diatribes...

5. WONDER WOMAN
Mostly because this tune includes the lyrics "In her satin tights, fightin' for your rights, and the red white and blue--WONDER WOOOMAAAN!"

Bonus: JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS


Did I miss any good ones?

NEW CAREER ASPIRATIONS

Merry Christmas everyone!
I know most people focus on the joy of he holiday season, but it's also a time to think about where you are in life, and how different the reality is from your childhood dreams. (Really, how many of us are astronauts, ballerinas or cowboys? And yet we still trudge to work anyway, our childhood dreams in tatters.) The the dying of one year and the birth of a new one are cause for a lot of introspection...
Which is why when I read that there is a brand new school of higher learning, where I can better my professional prospects, I got excited:

ROVANIEMI, Finland (Reuters) - Customer service, story-telling, nature studies and wilderness survival are essential skills for any elf worthy of the name. Anyone who aspires to a job as a Santa's helper can acquire them at a new Elf Academy in Rovaniemi, 2,600 km (1,600 miles) from the North Pole, which Finland claims as home to the "real" Santa Claus.
Christmas 2007 is in full swing as tourists seek Santa in the Arctic Circle but after the school opens next April, the 2,000 or so "elves" will be able to raise their game.

The competencies an elf needs are vast, says Esa Sakkinen, project coordinator and teacher at the Lapland Vocational College which will be running the academy.They do more than pack the gifts that families pick up at the Christmas market outside "Santa's house" or help answer the 750,000 letters that arrive at his local post office each year.

"An elf needs to know how to make a fire in the snow ... also the local nature and animals, because you never know what the clients or kids are going to ask," he said.

Exams to earn a professional certificate are part of the program, which will be open to all ages. On arrival at the airport, elves dressed in green jackets and red gloves and hat ferry visitors on buses to their destinations through the winter twilight.
After a day driving a snowmobile they may accompany families to a reindeer farm or tell stories of Santa and Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer...


Okay-
I am seriously heading to Elf Academy to get my elf certificate. I am the right height, I'm Finnish and I already have Exotic Dancer certification, so I can add this to my list of achievements. I know you people are scoffing, but when I sell my story to Esquire magazine, and one of the Olsen twins plays me in the movie version, who's gonna be laughing then, huh?

2008 is looking good!

SESAME STREET: THE MENACING YEARS

Throwing caution to the wind, and ignoring the stern "This Material Is Not Suitable For Today's Preschoolers" warning, I recently purchased "Sesame Street: Old School" for a toddler I know. As it is not Christmas yet, I won't know what kinds of damaging effects it will have on his little brain for a few more days. Will I live to regret to exposing him to "Monsterpiece Theatre" and Cookie Monster smoking (then eating) his pipe?
Like most people my age who heard about the warning on this delightful DVD set, I was curious about how different the show actually was back then. My memories are a bit foggy. I mean, of course I remembered this:

1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12

(Although I had no idea it was sung by the Pointer Sisters.)

But then...I found something truly shocking:

ON THE SUBWAY

Amazing, right? It's like a Martin Scorsese-directed segment. This Sesame Street musical number captures 1970's New York perfectly:
Filthy streets!
Bitchy muppets!
An obviously stoned, unhygienic drug-addict muppet!
An elderly muppet operatically singing, "You could lose your purse or you might lose something worse on the subway"!
An inefficient, over-crowded, grungy subway system!

No wonder I wanted to move here from the time I was old enough to talk.

BLIND ITEM #8

Which former CNN Atlanta VJ, now a Beltway Babe, recently hosted a dinner party in which the i-pod mix revealed a disturbing musical predilection? A Peon Confidential spy says the party ground to a halt when Celine Dion's harrowing "Titanic" song assaulted everyone's ear drums...
Sounds like a sonic BLITZ KRIEG to me!

LET THE VAGINA BREATHE

I'd like to thank the person who posted about her "tweenie". If I could, I'd buy you a drink. So consider this a virtual toast to you.
For a while now, I've been asking any women I know if their mothers told them "you have to let the vagina breathe." I am amazed at how widespread this adage is, and how each mom puts her own spin on it:

MY FINNISH MOM: "Saara, don't wear panties to bed. The piiko needs to breathe." (And no, "piiko" isn't actually a Finnish word. No one knows where it came from. But this doesn't stop my mom from using it.)

MY OHIO FRIEND'S MOM: "Honey, you have to air it out. You'll get twat rot."

MY JEWISH FRIEND'S MOM: "Bubbulah, the vagina is like fine wine. It has to breathe."

MY TRINIDADIAN FRIEND'S MOM: "Let a little breeze into your tun tun." (Not sure if I spelled that right.)

MY NEW ORLEANIAN FRIEND'S MOM: "Boo, respect your area and let some air in."

CHARGED WITH "MISUSING A TELEPHONE"

Today, I am applauding New Zealand. Check this:

WELLINGTON (Reuters) - A New Zealand woman who sent a naked man to the wrong house on the promise of a good time has been charged with misusing a telephone, local media reported on Wednesday.
The 17-year-old woman sent the man an enticing text message offering him an early Christmas present in the shape of two friendly women and suggested he take off his clothes to save time, the Manawatu Standard reported. The 31-year old man wasted no time in arriving at the house, and took off his clothes and threw them through the window before entering.
But it was the wrong house and the householder did not see the funny side. The police were called and the man arrested for being unlawfully on a property. The woman, who sent the tempting but deliberately wayward message, was also tracked down and charged for misusing a telephone.

This story is brilliant. Charged with "misusing a telephone". I say we take that concept and apply it to an irritation that has grown steadily worse over the past five years: being within earshot of obnoxious, overbearing, idiotic, unnecessary cell phone conversations. And as we all know, there are multiple types of offenders:

1. The "Lonely Phoner" Offender
This person is ashamed to eat dinner/lunch at a cafe alone, so they talk on their cell phone the ENTIRE TIME. This apparently proclaims to other diners; "See! I'm not a loser! There is a friend on the other end of this phone! That's right! Plenty of people like me! ME!"
As I eat alone often and don't give a shit if people think I'm a loser, I am usually tempted to grab the cell phone and shove it up this person's ass with a cheery, "You're sitting all by yourself. Just you. With a cell phone up your ass. Deal with it."

2. The "Indecisive Shopper" Offender
This person cannot buy a pair of socks, a package of Jimmy Dean sausage or a stick of deodorant without consulting a friend. I was at the grocery store once and heard a man going through every cut of beef and rattling off the price to some cheap fucker on the other end of his cell phone. He caught me looking at him with disgust and I just muttered, "You're some bargain hunter, buddy."

3. The "Dirty Laundry" Offender
This person has no problem walking down the street and bellowing out the most embarrassing, personal information about themselves, their friends and anyone else. A couple weeks ago I was walking down St. Mark's and heard:

"She tol' me her vajayjay's on fire. She got some kind of infection. I tol' her you got to air that shit out when you go to bed. You know? My mom always tol' me you can't wear no underwear to bed. That shit needs to breathe."

I stared at this woman, mostly because my mom told me the same thing, and I got to wondering if this is a country-wide, globe-spanning, culture-connecting adage that all mothers pass along to their daughters. (Seriously--if anyone else's mom told them this, will you let me know? I'm fascinated.)

Anyway-she then glares at me like I'm rude for overhearing her conversation...which is another hallmark of these offenders. This is why I say, good for you New Zealand; holding people accountable for telephone malfeasance. I'd like to see that type of vigilance here in the States.

IRRATIONAL CELEBRITY HATRED

So-
I know it's the holidays, and I should not be thinking unkind thoughts. I should be thinking about wondrous children, delicious cookies and adorable cards featuring contented mice clutching tiny cups of hot chocolate by the fire.
However:
I can't help it. Today I woke up thinking of celebrities that I really hate for no apparent reason at all. And I'm not talking about the obvious, idiotic celebs like Paris Hilton, George Bush or anyone from "The Hills".
No, what I'm talking about here is talented, attractive celebrities who have done nothing to offend me. I am not a waitress who has been poorly tipped by any of them. I am not a prostitute who has been forced to eat a shit cake by any of them.
I simply don't like the following people. I hate them so much that I will not see a movie/watch a TV show that features any of them. It's shameful thing to admit, especially now that Santa is on heightened alert. But I feel compelled to unleash the following list:

1. Katherine Heigl. I don't care how you pronounce your name, I just call you "That woman I can't fucking stand for no apparent reason."

2. Rachel Ray. I think this is because we are both squat little women, and I worry that my body looks like hers. Possibly worse. And that upsets me. Immensely.

3. Justin Timberlake. He hung Janet Jackson out to dry after the Nipplegate fiasco. And I will love that woman forever, mostly because someday I want this scenario to happen in a bar:

SUAVE GUY: I noticed you from across the room, and had to say hello. What's your name?
ME: Saara. Miss Dutton if you're nasty.

4. Gwenyth Paltrow. I realize that I am not alone on this. In fact, I think her fame is partly based on women hating her, yet being drawn to her particular brand of anemic, scrawny, vegetarian beauty. I'm not. I think she looks like she'd have a permanent yeast infection.

5. Patricia Cornwell. Not an actress/TV personality, I know. Instead she's an immensely successful, attractive author. Loaded, books in every airport, constantly on the best seller list. Plus, the books are well-written thrillers. So I can't even say she's a hack...Bitch.

Anybody else want to unleash some irrational celebrity hatred?